Sultan awoke in the hospital, the pungent smell of antiseptic filling his nostrils. He groggily lifted his head, his gaze darting around the unfamiliar surroundings. His body felt heavy, as if the weight of reality pressed down on him, lying on the cold, hard operating table. He blinked, his vision clearing to reveal the harsh overhead lights of the surgery room, their brightness piercing through his eyes like a thousand needles. “Ouch!” He winced, squinting against the light. Then, his eyes snapped open wide, and he was met with a shocking sight. His irises, once a dark, unremarkable brown, now glowed with an eerie, luminous purple, like two amethysts radiating an otherworldly energy. The color radiated in a circular pattern, almost hypnotic, against the backdrop of his otherwise normal eyes, which seemed to stare back at him with a newfound intensity. Sultan gasped deeply, the rush of air into his lungs feeling like the first breath he had ever taken, filling him with a sense
Sultan began reading aloud, his voice filled with excitement, his eyes shining with a knowing glint. "The Fool has been successfully overpowered. Here are the pros and cons. Pros: enhanced perception and awareness, access to others' personal information..." He paused, noticing the doctors' confusion deepening, their faces scrunched up in disbelief.Dr. Patel's face turned red with frustration, his brow furrowed, and his hands clenched into fists. "This is the wrong surgery! He needs to be in a psychiatric home. He needs to have his brain operated on!" The doctor's voice rose, his words dripping with disbelief, as he threw up his hands and stormed out of the room.Sultan watched him go, a strange, knowing smile spreading across his face, his eyes glinting with a hint of mischief."Just wait and see," he said, turning to Dr. Thompson, his voice filled with conviction, his head nodding slightly. "He's going to get a call."Dr. Thompson raised an eyebrow, her skepticism evident, her eye
Sultan recognized him instantly, memories flashing before his eyes like a rapid-fire slideshow. Days spent as Sultan Armstrong, poor and struggling, working at a restaurant where Emmet had once forgotten his gold W card. The humiliation and anger of living poor came flooding back, but Sultan's smile never wavered. He stretched out a hand, his eyes crinkling at the corners, and said, "Oh, yeah Emmett Watson," his voice calm and serene. "It's good to see you again."As he spoke, he took a step forward, his movements fluid and graceful. Emmett's eyes widened, his face pale, as he took a step back, his hands raised in a defensive gesture.Mrs. Watson stepped forward, placing a gentle hand on Emmett's arm, her eyes scanning Sultan's face for any signs of distress. "He just went through surgery," she said, her voice soft with concern, her brow furrowed in worry. "But he doesn't seem like someone who just underwent surgery." Her gaze lingered on Sultan's face, searching for any hint of w
Lugard's eyes narrowed, his mind racing with questions. "How did you know about Lord Lin, young master? No one knew about our...arrangement. It was a secret, known only to a select few."Sultan's smile widened, and he looked at Lugard with a hint of amusement. "I...I don't know, Lugard. I just recalled that my father spoke of him in hushed tones, with a mix of reverence and fear. And now, here you are, connected to him in some way. It's all very… uniting, don't you think?"He spoke like a tease! And Lugards respect for him just doubled… No, quadrupled!Lugard's gaze intensified, his voice low and urgent. "Tell me, young master, what exactly did your father say about Lord Lin? And you called him Grand Uncle? How is he still as young as you if he is that? Every detail is crucial.”***In the ethereal realm of the Major Arcana, a grand court convened, its vast and shimmering expanse filled with an otherworldly light that seemed to emanate from nowhere and everywhere simultaneously. The
The argument escalated, voices overlapping in a cacophony of accusations and defenses, the room echoing with the intensity of their words. "You have no right to speak of lies!" The Hermit's voice cut through the noise, his eyes flashing with indignation, and his finger pointing accusingly at the Devil."You thrive on deceit, you devil," he continued, his voice steady and firm, "and that's why you are the devil!" He spat out the words, his lips twisted in disgust, and his face set in a stern mask."At least I don't hide behind false pretenses," the Devil shot back, his voice dripping with sarcasm, and his eyes glinting with mischief. He leaned back in his chair, a sly smile spreading across his face, and his hands steepled together in a mocking gesture. "What are you afraid of? That I'll uncover your true intentions and maybe... try to steal something?" He raised an eyebrow, his gaze piercing and provocative.The Magician raised his hand, attempting to restore order, his palm facing
As the Devil left the realm of the Major Arcana, he vanished into thin air, only to reappear instantly in a golden room. The lavish space gleamed with opulence, the walls adorned with intricate patterns of gold leaf that seemed to shimmer in the light. With a fluid motion, he removed his dark attire, revealing a tailored suit underneath, and the fire in his eyes subsided, replaced by a calm, human gaze. The glowing ring on his hand dimmed, transforming into an ordinary black band, and his eyes lost their otherworldly intensity, becoming soft and brown. The formidable presence of the Devil dissolved, revealing Sullivan, the president's son of M-City, standing tall, his chiseled features relaxed, and a hint of a smile playing on his lips. He looked around the room, his eyes taking in the lavish decorations, and his expression turned thoughtful, as if he were lost in thought.Sullivan's eyes adjusting to the opulent surroundings. On the bed lay another figure, a tall man with blonde
Sultan Armstrong sank into the plush armchair in the grand living room of the Watson estate, his weary eyes scanning the opulent space. After a long, arduous trek with Lugard, they had finally arrived at the estate, and the extravagant furnishings and heavy drapes seemed almost comically luxurious to him. A soft chuckle escaped his lips, earning curious glances from the Watson family, who had gathered to discuss his unexpected presence in their lives. They sat in silence, their faces a picture of confusion and concern, as they tried to process the events that had unfolded.Mr. Watson, a tall man with graying hair and a stern expression, broke the silence first. His bushy eyebrows furrowed as he spoke, "You... You..., we need to understand why you pretended to be Emmett. This is a serious matter."Sultan, grinning widely, shrugged his shoulders, his eyes sparkling with mischief. "Well, you see, it wasn't exactly a plan. More of a happy accident." He let out a hearty laugh, the sound
Emmett sat on the edge of his bed, staring blankly at the ornate wallpaper that lined his room, its intricate patterns blurring together as his mind wandered. The evening shadows lengthened, casting a gloomy pallor over his face, and the flickering light of the lamp beside him danced across his features, accentuating the turmoil etched on his face.He reached for a bottle of whiskey he had hidden in his nightstand, the glass clinking against the wood as he poured himself a generous measure. As he took a swig, the fiery liquid burned down his throat, mirroring the turmoil inside him, and he winced, feeling the sting of both the whiskey and his own self-doubt."How useless am I?" he muttered to himself, the bitterness in his voice stark against the silence of the room, which seemed to swallow his words whole. "My own parents had to adopt someone else without even asking me. Just how worthless have I become?" The words hung in the air, a challenge to the shadows that seemed to closing