The world was slipping away.Jace’s body convulsed as the reflection’s palm pressed harder into his chest, its fingers splayed like claws digging straight into his ribs. Heat seared him from the inside out, and he felt his heartbeat weakening under the pull, as though his very soul was being unraveled thread by thread.“No” he gasped, clawing at the wrist. His fingernails dug deep, but the flesh beneath his grip wasn’t flesh at all. It was glassy, slick, and impossibly cold, like trying to hold onto ice submerged in oil.The reflection’s face hovered inches above his. The calm, terrible smile never wavered. Its eyes were abyssal, dark pits that seemed to stretch on forever.“You think you’ve built something real,” it whispered, voice dripping like poison. “Money. Power. People who bow to you. But all of it is hollow. And hollow things… belong to me.”Jace’s lungs screamed. His ribs arched upward, bending against the unnatural force. His vision swam with black spots, every nerve shriek

The darkness swallowed him whole. It was not the absence of light. It was not silence. It was a hurricane of noise, a suffocating flood of screams, whispers, and echoes of his own voice reverberating inside his skull.Everywhere he turned, there were faces. His faces. Smirking, crying, laughing, sneering. They pressed against him, clawing at his skin, tearing at his thoughts.“You’re weak.”“You only have power because it was handed to you.”“Without us, you’re nothing but a beggar in fine clothes.”“Fall, Jace. Fall.”Their words cut deeper than blades. They weren’t lies. They were the truths he had feared most, the insecurities he had buried under money, power, and blood.Jace roared, swinging his glowing fists into the void, golden arcs exploding outward. Faces shattered, screams ripped apart, but for every one destroyed, ten more replaced it.[Warning: Host consciousness entanglement at 64%.][If percentage reaches 100%, permanent assimilation will occur.]The system’s voice echoe

The chandelier light shimmered across faces that weren’t supposed to exist in the same room. Billionaires, old-money dynasties, warlords disguised in tuxedos, masked figures whose very presence reeked of power. The underground auction wasn’t just exclusive, it was forbidden.And Jace was walking straight into its den. Every step felt wrong. His polished shoes clicked softly on marble, but the echoes were too loud in his head. The air smelled of incense and aged leather, but beneath it lingered iron, blood.His invitation, folded crisp in his breast pocket, burned against his chest. It wasn’t just a pass. It was bait.He scanned the room, eyes darting past jeweled gowns and smirking masks. At the far end, beneath the raised stage, a velvet curtain concealed tonight’s "main item." That was why they were here. Why whispers moved like smoke across champagne flutes.The Black Ledger, Not money. Not art. Not weapons. Information. The kind that toppled empires, Jace’s throat tightened. He kn

Silence.Not the silence of peace, but the heavy, suffocating kind that presses against your ribs and makes every breath feel like theft.Jace’s eyes snapped open, The first thing he saw wasn’t light. It was blackness so deep it seemed alive, swallowing the edges of his vision. Then a flicker. A faint glow, distant and wavering, like a candle fighting against the dark. He tried to move, Chains rattled.His wrists were bound, iron biting into his skin. His ankles too. He was seated, back pressed against cold stone, the air thick with damp and rust. The metallic stench told him everything, a prison, deep underground.His pulse thundered. Last thing he remembered, the double’s face lunging at him, the Ledger burning like fire in his hands then nothing. Now the Ledger was gone. Panic surged. His chest tightened, breath catching like he was drowning. “Looking for this?”The voice cut through the dark. Smooth. Mocking. Familiar. The faint glow brightened, not a candle, but the Ledger itself

The scream tore out of Jace’s throat until his lungs burned raw. He plunged through the abyss, fire-chains snaking tighter around his arms and chest. His body should have been shredded by the flames, but instead the pain felt alive, crawling into his veins, digging into his very marrow.He slammed against solid ground, hard. The impact rattled his skull and sent cracks through the stone floor beneath him. For a long moment, he lay still, gasping, his eyes fluttering against the searing weight of the fire-chains.When he forced himself to look up, the world had changed again, This wasn’t the cavern of wretches anymore.He stood in a vast hall, lit not by molten rivers, but by hanging lanterns of crimson flame. Black marble columns stretched so high they disappeared into the gloom. The air was hot, metallic, carrying the acrid stench of burning coin.And there were thrones.Dozens of them, arranged in two lines leading to a colossal seat at the far end. Each throne was occupied by a fig