Drake

Cypher soon left Gunter behind, stepping forward through the imposing black iron doors of the palace.

It was entertaining for him - to experience all that life had to offer. A new world meant new customs and, of course, new ways to spread his wings.

Unlike others of his commoner background, Cypher fit in seamlessly here, the perfect newcomer to high society. After all, he had done this before.

You don't get to be the lead scientist in America's MKUltra retry without pulling a few strings and stroking a few egos.

The grand ballroom unfurled before him.

The first floor was almost entirely covered in a fine, velvety carpet, woven from the furs of Dreambeasts - the finest the empire had to offer. A wasteful luxury, but expected. The faint scent of exotic oils clung to the fibers, mixing with the spiced aroma of imported wines.

Golden-glazed tables filled the hall, each surrounded by noblemen and women draped in only the highest-quality vests, tunics, and dresses. Rare earth metals lined the surfaces of the tables, reflecting flickering candlelight as their owners laughed and gossiped.

Drops of wine spilled onto the carpet without a care, staining the fabric in deep crimson hues. There must have been at least two hundred nobles here - just the lower lords, barons, and viscounts.

At the centre of the room was a curtain covered stage not in use, while a large space was positioned directly Infront.

It was the ballroom floor, where nobles danced atop red timber flooring that did not creak, despite the press of leather shoes and heels. Some danced with their spouses, others with their betrothed, and many more in search of a match worth their station.

The occasional glint of jewelry caught Cypher's eye as ladies twirled, their earrings swaying like pendulums, their gowns spinning in delicate waves of silk.

Cypher craned his neck toward the upper balcony.

He could see them - the ones with true power. Their figures loomed in shadow, faint silhouettes of heads barely visible through a red veil that separated them from those below. Archdukes, perhaps. Maybe even lesser members of the imperial family.

No sign of an emperor. No throne in sight. This hall was merely a façade - a place for appearances and celebration.

A sharp whistling sound caught his attention.

Cypher turned, spotting a red-haired man waving at him from one of the round tables in the corner.

It was Orion.

The poor man looked slightly off-guard, surrounded by a small flock of noblewomen, their eyes keen with interest. So, what better move than to call someone else into the fray?

Cypher waved back, striding over with a rehearsed politeness. Then, just as he reached the group - he turned away, leaving Orion to his fate.

It was faint, but he could here the sound of grinding teeth through his enhanced senses.

Cypher smirked but didn't pay it much more attention.

Instead, he focused on something far more interesting. The barons.

Unlike the higher nobility, the barons relied on the businesses they taxed to maintain their dominance. Their wealth grew alongside the middle class - prosperity meant profit. Unlike the old-money aristocrats above, they needed innovation.

And in this world, there was no better ally than Cypher.

Why?

Because he was a genius, filled with the knowledge of modern-day medicine, fashion, and technology. If they had Cypher on their side, anything that could make money would make money.

'Time to shine.'

He pulled a small piece of parchment from his coat and moved toward a table where a group of young men chatted around an older gentleman.

The man at the center had sharp features worn by age, his neatly parted hair now fully gray. Though he appeared middle-aged at first glance, the truth was clear - time had long since caught up with him. A walking cane rested against a nearby flower wall, while he adjusted the black blazer and shirt he wore with weathered hands.

"Old man Drake, you're losing money, aren't you?" One of the younger men leaned back in his chair, watching the elder like a hawk.

"If you refuse my offer again, you'll never get another chance at such a good deal. Think about it - one loan, and you can fund that silly research of yours until your heart gives out."

The men beside him chuckled, their amusement barely concealed.

And yet, despite the insults, the old man's expression barely changed. He simply frowned, watching the fools before him perform their little act.

"If you think I would use my estates as collateral, you are mistaken," Drake said, voice calm yet firm. "Your tactics are almost wicked—not worthy of a single penny of my family's wealth."

His words wiped the smugness off their faces.

"Tsk." The group shifted, irritation flashing in their eyes.

A heavier-set man scoffed, mouth still half-full of meat. "You think those commoner rats will thank you? Think again, old man. They don't care."

Another sneered. "Our families will hear about this."

"Don't say we didn't warn you," the first man added with a smirk. "When you croak, there won't be a single descendant left to inherit your lands. And when that happens, some lord far more eager to hear our proposals will take your place."

With that, the group departed, moving toward an older gathering at the far end of the room.

Drake exhaled sharply, pinching the bridge of his nose. His wrinkles deepened under the ballroom's dim glow.

After a few moments, he stopped his actions, instead speaking toward the presence that had listened the whole time.

"You shouldn't linger on another man's business. Reveal yourself at once..."

Of course, it was Cypher and Rain, the latter comfortably resting on his shoulder.

If someone were in the old Baron's shoes right now, they would immediately think Cypher was some sort of noble. As much as he said he didn't want to stand out, the unfortunate fact was...he was too beautiful.

Even his hair was stunning despite the tragic story it told of the original Cypher's fate. The boy had been so utterly stressed, his black hair had drained of color, creating the silver-gray it was today.

Cypher almost felt sorry for the boy, but he also understood that freedom does not favor the idle man. The original Cypher made this very mistake. He was stagnant - never adapting, never seeking out power, never reaching the infinite potential he could offer to the world.

A shame. The boy was smart. It wasn't a coincidence that Aleck had possessed him, having had similar talents to the invader.

But this was for another time.

"Are you here for a loan as well? The younger generation is certainly more aggressive than I remember." Drake followed Cypher with tired eyes as the young man sat down, leaning back just enough to let the eye of Endo resting on his chest catch the light.

"I'm sorry if I came at a bad time, but you can be at ease, sir. I'm no noble." Cypher took on a more soothing voice, slightly higher and softer, appearing easygoing and caring.

"Not a... I see. Then I suggest you leave this place immediately. For your own good, don't let this old man draw attention to you." Clutching his cane, Drake slowly tried to stand - only to shake in the attempt and slump back down.

"Please, Baron, you mustn't worry about me." Cypher moved across the table, steadying Drake's arm. "I just... I just overheard your struggles. I've been searching for someone with an honest heart. Baron, I think that man is you."

"M-me? Boy, don't play games with me. I'm old, so let me be."

"If you hear me out, I promise thousands of lives will be saved."

Drake quieted. His head hung low, and his heart shook for a moment before he regained his bearings.

"What is it that you speak of?" he relented. "Be quick. The Emperor will soon take the stage."

Cypher's eyes gleamed like golden flashes as he hurriedly placed a piece of parchment on the table. "Sir, you're the first person to listen to my proposal. I'm honored. Thank you, I didn't think their were any nobles left like you."

And though Drake rarely cared for flattery, the admiration in Cypher's voice sparked something forgotten within him.

Pride.

He had always been a talentless Dreamweaver, choosing to remain at rank one simply because he no longer had the strength to build his soul Alter.

As his family died one by one, he soon found himself as the last heir of the family, eventually becoming the family head to a family that was dead.

It was in this that he had time to see a world other Dreamweavers never saw. The hell beneath them, the world of commoners.

He had barely been able to look at the children lying starved on the street while their fathers died in some region of the deadlands. He had barely been able to look at the widows desperately clinging onto rags to keep themselves warm.

It was his motivation. That is, to help those who had no power themselves. Reality however, can be disappointing. He was not a scientist, and so he was woefully under prepared when trying to research medices, human anatomy, and chemistry.

In this, he was talentless.

But with Cypher by his side, he may not have realised it yet - however his dream was only a matter of time.