Marcus snorted in derision at the comment the punk-rock girl, Jennifer, had said.

"No, haven't gambled in my life before now," he explained. "Moment I woke up, and everythin' was clearer and brighter and stuff, I knew I was one. Only took an afternoon with one of my friends to figure out what my Domain was."

He took out a single, worn six-sided die from one of his pockets.

"I keep a lot of trinkets and knick-knacks around, just kept sorting through them until it finally clicked. Didn't have to go to Vegas to find out."

A guttural yet civilized noise rang out throughout the room coming from the podium, the sound of a man clearing his throat. Marcus turned to the front of the room, where a lean yet well-built man stood, finely dressed, his eyes a sinister shade of grey, and a gaunt-looking face. It was as if a fire burned inside him, controlled but destructive all the same. His presence seemed to dominate the room, but it was not one that Marcus feared, rather, he was in awe of the power he held just by being there.

His powerful voice resonated throughout the room as he made his speech to the dozens of Wild Gods in the room. After some time, he stepped down from the podium, and prayed to each God. Marcus could not hear what he was saying, but as Arven neared to where he and Jennifer were standing, it sounded like a plea for help. Before long, Arven reached Marcus.

The calm and collected facade that Marcus had built up shattered as the words left an impact on him.

"I can't promise anything... but I'll try," he said, voice shaking a little bit. He unconsciously brushed back a lock of orange hair as he breathed heavily, trying to keep his composure. He had never thought about risking his life before for anyone, not even friends or family. And yet, he accepted that this was his fate, to die entrusting the future to those he had died for.