Morning came slowly.

  John hadn’t noticed when night arrived the day before, and he didn’t notice the sunrise until the park began filling with people again.

  Joggers.

  Dog walkers.

  Parents pushing strollers.

  The universe kept dealing hands whether anyone was paying attention or not.

  John sat on the same bench with the same deck of cards.

  He had shuffled it a hundred times.

  Nothing strange ever happened.

  The ace of spades stayed just an ace.

  Which was unsettling.

  Across the path, the House sat on another bench reading a newspaper.

  A real one.

  Paper pages.

  Ink smudges.

  John walked over.

  “You ever sleep?”

  The House folded a page.

  “Sometimes.”

  John pointed at the paper.

  “What’s the headline?”

  The House held it up.

  LOCAL TEAM LOSES CHAMPIONSHIP

  If you come across this story on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen from Royal Road. Please report it.

  John laughed.

  “Figures.”

  He sat down.

  “You know,” John said, “this is the longest game you’ve ever put me in.”

  “It’s the only one that lasts.”

  John shuffled the deck again.

  “So when does the boss fight happen?”

  The House looked at him.

  “No boss.”

  “No final table?”

  “No.”

  “No cosmic showdown?”

  “No.”

  John frowned.

  “That seems anticlimactic.”

  The House pointed toward the soccer field.

  The kids were playing again.

  One kid tripped and fell.

  Another helped him up.

  Game continued.

  “That’s the table,” the House said.

  John watched for a while.

  “Feels like everyone’s just winging it.”

  “They are.”

  “That’s the strategy?”

  “Yes.”

  John leaned back.

  “That’s terrible strategy.”

  The House smiled slightly.

  “It’s the only one that works.”

  John thought about the other universes.

  The casino.

  The Loserverse.

  The grunge club.

  The kindness arena.

  The bro gym.

  Each one had rules.

  Each one had a trick.

  Once he figured out the trick—

  he won.

  But this place didn’t have a trick.

  Which meant there was nothing to solve.

  John flipped the ace of spades onto the bench.

  “Feels like the deck’s stacked against everyone here.”

  The House shook his head.

  “No.”

  “How so?”

  “Everyone gets the same deck.”

  John picked up the card again.

  “Some people definitely get worse hands.”

  “Yes.”

  John waited.

  “That’s still the game.”

  John laughed quietly.

  “That’s brutal.”

  A kid ran past them chasing a dog.

  The dog had stolen a hot dog bun from someone’s picnic.

  Chaos erupted.

  People shouted.

  The dog escaped triumphantly.

  The House nodded toward the scene.

  “Round in progress.”

  John smiled.

  “Messy game.”

  “Yes.”

  John stood up.

  He stretched.

  “So what’s my move now?”

  The House folded the newspaper.

  “Whatever you want.”

  “That’s it?”

  “That’s it.”

  John slipped the deck of cards into his jacket.

  He walked toward the park exit.

  Then he stopped.

  “Hey.”

  The House looked up.

  “What?”

  John pulled the ace of spades out of the deck.

  For a second he thought he saw the symbol glow.

  But it didn’t.

  It was just paper.

  John flicked the card across the grass toward the soccer field.

  It landed near the kids.

  One of them picked it up.

  “Cool card!”

  The kid stuck it in his pocket and ran back into the game.

  John watched for a moment.

  Then he shrugged.

  “Guess I don’t need it.”

  The House nodded.

  “Most players eventually stop counting the cards.”

  John walked toward the street.

  Cars moved.

  People talked.

  The world continued without asking him to win it.

  Behind him, the House fed the last crumb to the pigeons.

  The cosmic casino remained quiet.

  For the first time since the anomaly appeared…

  the tables were closed.

  And somewhere in a kid’s pocket, the ace of spades rode along through a completely ordinary game.