Falling through universes had started to feel routine.

  John didn’t enjoy it.

  But he was getting good at landing.

  This time he hit grass.

  Soft.

  Real.

  No neon lights.

  No cosmic casinos.

  No screaming bro gyms.

  Just wind.

  Actual wind.

  John rolled onto his back and looked up.

  Blue sky.

  Clouds drifting slowly.

  Birds flying in lazy circles.

  He sat up.

  “Okay,” he said cautiously.

  “This one looks normal.”

  No cosmic messages appeared.

  No glowing scoreboards.

  No rule notifications.

  Just the sound of distant traffic and someone mowing a lawn.

  John stood.

  He was in a small town park.

  Kids were playing soccer nearby.

  Two old men argued quietly over a newspaper.

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  A dog trotted past carrying a tennis ball.

  John waited.

  Nothing happened.

  “Hello?” he said.

  No answer.

  No House voice.

  No cosmic dealer.

  Just a guy jogging past who nodded politely.

  John frowned.

  “This feels suspicious.”

  He checked his pockets.

  The ace chips were still there.

  But they looked different now.

  Quieter.

  Not glowing.

  Just… chips.

  Like they belonged in a normal casino.

  John walked through the park slowly.

  The world kept behaving like a world.

  A couple argued on a bench.

  A food truck sold hot dogs.

  Someone dropped a coffee and swore loudly.

  John stopped in the middle of the sidewalk.

  “Oh.”

  He finally understood.

  “No rules.”

  This universe didn’t run on special mechanics.

  No losing-to-win.

  No performative kindness.

  No bro confidence multipliers.

  No cosmic tables.

  Just…

  life.

  Messy.

  Random.

  Unfair.

  A notification flickered weakly for a moment.

  Then faded.

  RULESET: NONE

  John rubbed his face.

  “Great.”

  For the first time since the House had started throwing him through universes…

  his powers didn’t automatically activate.

  He flipped an ace chip in the air.

  It landed.

  Heads.

  Just a coin flip.

  No explosion.

  No impossible outcome.

  Just luck.

  John sighed.

  “Well that’s new.”

  A bus passed by.

  A woman inside stared at him for a moment.

  Then looked back at her phone.

  No crowd cheering.

  No cosmic audience watching.

  Just normal indifference.

  John leaned against a streetlight.

  “So this is the final table.”

  A quiet voice spoke behind him.

  “Something like that.”

  John turned.

  A man stood there.

  Simple black suit.

  No glowing eyes.

  No cosmic aura.

  Just a guy.

  John squinted.

  “Let me guess.”

  The man nodded.

  “The House.”

  John pointed at the park.

  “This?”

  The man shrugged.

  “You wanted a fair game.”

  John looked around again.

  Kids playing.

  Cars passing.

  Clouds drifting.

  “No rules,” John said.

  “No rules,” the House agreed.

  “No mechanics.”

  “No mechanics.”

  John sighed.

  “So what’s the game?”

  The House smiled faintly.

  “Living.”

  John stared at him.

  “That’s it?”

  The House nodded.

  “No tables.”

  “No dice.”

  “No cosmic rules.”

  “Just decisions.”

  John thought about it.

  Then laughed quietly.

  “You know what?”

  “What?”

  “That might actually be the hardest one.”

  The House nodded again.

  “That’s why it’s the last.”

  John flipped the ace chip once more.

  It landed on the pavement.

  Heads.

  Just luck.

  He picked it up and slipped it back into his pocket.

  “Well,” he said.

  “Guess I’ll play.”

  The House turned and started walking away.

  John called after him.

  “Hey.”

  The House paused.

  “What happens if I win this one?”

  The House looked back.

  “If you win this one…”

  He smiled slightly.

  “…you stop needing the aces.”