As Adam listened to the battering ram hammering down the reinforced door to his office, he thought back on what brought him here.

 

As an orphan in a not-so-nice part of the world, he’d been exposed to injustice and crime from a very young age. He’d wanted to change it, improve the world around him, but found too many roadblocks put up by the supposedly ‘just’ governments. This led to the creation of his organization, Sicariidae.

 

Sicariidae was a criminal organization, through which Adam attempted to improve the world. He felt like he’d done pretty well, too. He squashed nearly every other organized crime group and assimilated any of their members who weren’t too far gone and were willing to turn a new leaf. He took over the entire underground drug trade, enacting policies that significantly reduced both addiction and overdose deaths worldwide. He exposed countless corrupt rich criminals and politicians, funding his operations with assets stolen from them. His organization was a haven for those unable to work properly in ‘normal’ society, and he thought of it as the family he never had.

 

Despite all the good he’d done for them, the governments of the world were not content to leave Adam alone. The public reason was all the crime he committed, but Adam knew the real reason was they were afraid of his power and influence. With Adam gone, the criminal underworld would once again devolve into many smaller factions fighting for power, and despite the worse outcome for the average citizen, they would no longer be a real threat to those in power.

 

The door to the office was starting to break.

 

Adam knew they’d likely kill him as soon as they entered, despite his lack of weapons. He was too dangerous to be left alive. It was likely no prison could hold him for long, given how many of his followers were around the world.

 

As the door shuddered once more and a screw popped out of a hinge, Adam took one last reminiscing look at his office. He’d collected countless trinkets throughout the years, and his office was decorated with many of them.

 

Something reflecting light caught his eye, and sparked a memory.

 

A thin jade talisman, scored along the centerline. It was a gift from an old homeless man he’d saved from some street thugs decades ago.

 

Suddenly the man’s words from that time played back in his head, remarkably clear. It felt like he was hearing them for the first time. “Some day your time will come. When you know you will die, snap this. I’m sure it will be of help.”

 

Adam smiled. It was a strange habit of his - he smiled uncannily wide whenever he felt something was going right. Usually when a scheme played out correctly, he thought of a new plan, or he saw his enemy realize they had lost. Sometimes he didn’t know why, like now. The smile had actually given him his criminal nickname - The Smiling Demon.

 

As the door broke down, he turned to face it. Smiling as wide as his face allowed, Adam snapped the talisman.

 

As his body was filled with bullets, his smile never left.

 

-

 

Something absurdly bright was in front of Adam, and he reflexively tried to close his eyes against the light, but nothing happened.

 

As Adam got used to the light, he realized why he couldn’t close his eyes - he didn’t seem to have a body. He was floating in a seemingly infinite white expanse, and he couldn’t see or feel his own body.

 

“I must be dead. Huh. Hope there’s more than this, I’m already bored.”

 

Adam’s statement was answered with a crack in the white facade, a being seemingly made of light descending toward him.

 

Mortal. Through Jade Order your soul has been pulled from the cycle and you will be placed within another, given privileges based on your achievements.

 

“That sounds interesting. What exactly are these privileges?”

 

You will be granted power equal to the power you had when you died. Looking at the memories of your life, you were quite the powerful Lord. The power you commanded in your previous life will be condensed into your new body. It will be formed with your soul as a base, and slotted into your new cycle.

 

“New cycle… new world? Do I get to choose where I go?”

 

The new cycle you enter is based on your soul’s desires. If you were given a choice and proper information, you would make the same choice. But that would take too long, and ruin much of the fun.

 

“I see. Am I supposed to do anything when I get there? Any rules?”

 

You were given Jade Order for a purpose, which even one such as I am not privy to. However, do not worry about it. Live your life. You have the remarkable opportunity to live another life in a new cycle, not only with immense power, but also the knowledge of your previous life. Your purpose is fated, and you will accomplish it whether or not you try.

 

“I see. I guess I’ll try to have some fun, then.” Adam began smiling, imagining the possibilities.

 

Good. Now you may go. Your new body is finished. 

 

A hole opened next to Adam, and as soon as he thought about entering it, he did. As he crossed the threshold, he fell unconscious.

 

-

 

When Adam next awoke, he had a massive headache. As it subsided, he realized why it had happened - whatever thing he spoke to in that white space had shoved a bunch of information about his new world into his head. The headache further dissipated as his brain compartmentalized what he now knew.

 

He was in Akraya, another world, with markedly different physics. At normal scales and with normal objects they approximated his old physics, but they allowed for much more. Something akin to magic.

 

The world was still a planet, orbiting a single sun, and with three moons following a complex orbital pattern. The star system was part of a larger galaxy, and a larger universe, but this planet had yet to achieve spaceflight. 

 

They were on the trailing edge of a magico-industrial revolution. The majority of the population now lived in towering multi-leveled industrial cities, like the one he’d woken up in - Wellspring.

 

Adam stopped perusing the information to get his bearings. He stood up, and looked around. He was in a back alley in one of the city’s underlevels, and it should have been pitch black without a light source, but Adam could make out clear outlines of his surroundings. Must’ve been an effect of his new body, but he’d figure that out later.

 

Making his way down the alley he was in, it opened up to a wider alley, and he could see lighting near the end to his right, so he moved towards it cautiously. As he got closer to the light, he began to pick up voices. Despite how clear they were, he knew exactly how far away they were, which was a lot farther than he had been able to hear before. Another feature of his new body, he guessed.

 

He stopped under a large pipe with a window in it, emanating light as the glowing fluid inside passed by. It was enneofluid from the Wellspring the city was built on and named after. Basically magic crude oil, though it had many more uses than energy.

 

In the light he could now fully take in his surroundings with color. He was wearing nondescript robes, similar to those worn by members of the weaver sects that populated the city. Most people in the city either lived under the protection of or were members of the weaver sects.

 

The sects acted like autonomous governing bodies, while officially being subordinate to the city and country government.

 

Adam checked his person. The robe had several hidden pockets on the inside, containing a not insignificant amount of money in the form of gold and silver coins, a magical scope and navigation device called an eld, and a smooth crystalline sphere. In his pocket it was kaleidoscopic and ever-changing, emitting a faint glow, but as soon as he grabbed it and inspected it, it changed. The surface became clear, and suspended in the sphere was a smaller crystal sculpture of a brown recluse spider - the symbol of Adam’s organization, Sicariidae.

 

Adam knew what this was from the infodump that energy-being gave him. It was a sect core, and it represented the authority of a sect leader. They were magical objects, and extremely hard to get. They gave one the privileges afforded to the owners of sects, and as such the methods of acquisition are controlled by the government tightly.

 

As soon as Adam had processed the information given to him about sects he was planning on starting one, and this would allow him to skip the immensely long and onerous process of acquiring one normally. He gave a short thought to the idea they were trying to push him in a certain direction to fulfill his “purpose” here, but that thought quickly left. They told him to just have fun, and who was he to deny that when he was just dropped into a fantasy world with a bunch of gifts?

 

Switching from checking his belongings to checking his body, Adam was somewhat disappointed. As far as he could tell without a mirror, he looked the same as before, if a bit taller. A lithe, pale man with moderate muscle definition and waist length hair tied back into a long ponytail. He thought a new life would have given him a significantly different body, especially with the energy-being’s talk about his new body.

 

Taking a second to parse through the information he’d been given by the being, he realized it didn’t say much about his body beyond that he was no longer human, but rather a species native to this world called a daemon, and that his “aspects” were “assimilation” and “beyond”. He knew that daemons were a rare species, and each were unique, embodying an aspect or aspects of existence that granted them certain abilities. Beyond that though, they were a mystery.

 

He felt like there was more to his body, but he didn’t see a reason to spend a while trying to figure it out before he sorted his living situation out.

 

Stepping out of the alley he was in, Adam entered a mainway, one of the primary paths through the labyrinth that is the Wellspring underlevels.

 

The mainway was lined with shops and restaurants, enneofliud signs reminiscent of neon signs from his previous life. People meandered about, and many wore the telltale robes of weavers.

 

Adam wandered, his robes giving the impression he was a weaver, but their plain construction indicated he was from no important sect, so most people took one look and ignored him. He followed the mainway as it grew steadily wider and more busy, taking him deeper into the city.

 

Soon he was in a veritable sea of people, the evening rush of people browsing wares or purchasing food and drink. He went with the flow, taking in as much of his surroundings as he could, until he found what he was looking for. The information he’d been given had told him what to do to get his sect started, and since he already had the core, all he needed now was to fill out the paperwork, and establish a base of operations. The first of which could be handled through a registrar’s office, which he now stood in front of.

 

He entered the small, nondescript building and heard a small bell chime as he walked through the door. Inside was a small waiting area in front of a counter, a cramped space filled with shelves overflowing with papers of all sorts behind the counter.

 

Sitting behind the counter was a short, tired looking man with small glasses resting on a wrinkled nose. He looked up as Adam walked in.

 

“What can I do for you, sir?”

 

Adam smoothly pulled out his sect core, presenting it to the man. “I’d like to register a new sect, if you don't mind.”

 

The registrar’s eyes locked onto the sect core as soon as he’d pulled it out, and widened considerably. It took him several seconds to pull his gaze away and respond.

 

“Certainly, Master…?”

 

“Adam.”

 

“Certainly, Master Adam. Just give me a few moments to find the papers. “ he said, hurriedly looking through the shelves behind the counter.

 

“Take your time, registrar. I imagine it isn’t every day an upstart sect leader wants to register, especially in this out of the way office.”

 

The man gave a small laugh as he ruffled through countless papers.

 

“Here we are!” The man brought a small sheaf of papers to the counter. “Just fill these out and I’ll send them up to Central, priority queue,” he said, pointing at what looked like one of those pneumatic tubes used in banks in Adam’s old world, “You should be set by tonight.”

 

Adam looked through the papers. Most of it was simple and expected, his name and appearance, the sect’s name. Basic stuff for registering any organization. He had to use the sect core to imprint his symbol on one paper, which was one of the core’s many functions. The symbol it imprinted was magical as well and could be verified as from the core or not so they were used for signatures on important documents. A few papers were for him to keep and detailed important laws and regulations for sect leaders to know. Immediately important to him, it detailed how territory works for sects. While the city government ultimately owns and enacts laws over the land of the city, sects are allowed to “own” territory which they manage for the city. With certain exceptions, the law within a sect’s territory is controlled by that sect.

 

Land within the city is divided into districts based around enneofluid extractors. Using a sect core, one can activate an enneofluid extractor and subsequently claim the district surrounding it. The fluid produced by a sect’s reactor is theirs to use or sell, so sects want to control as many as they can.

 

However, as the sect is also responsible for public institutions, expansion is not quick, and many new sects collapse when they aren’t able to maintain the district. The city government attempts to pick up the slack by providing for sectless districts, but they’d rather have sects owning districts since that reduces the costs on them. This meant it wouldn’t be too hard for Adam to claim a district to begin his sect, though he’d need to be smart about it.

 

Adam began smiling. The plans were coming to him, aided by helpful info from that strange being. He knew what he had to do.

 

“Where’s the nearest unclaimed district?” asked Adam, handing the filled out forms to the registrar.

 

The man stroked the few wisps of beard he had left.“Two districts south of here just recently lost their sect. Financial troubles, I heard.”

 

“Perfect. Thanks for your help, registrar!”

 

As Adam left the building, smiling wide as ever, the registrar breathed a sigh of relief, and went back to sorting papers.

 

Beginning his walk to the unclaimed district, Adam began thinking about what he needed to do. While he would have liked to just claim the district immediately, that wasn’t optimal. He needed to recruit people first. He also wanted intel on the closest sects to him, given how he’d be taking them over soon.

 

While recruiting some bodies would likely be quite easy, recruiting actually talented people would be harder, even with Adam’s excellent eye for people. He needed administrative and managerial people first, and warriors not long after.

 

One of the important rules laid out in the papers he was given was that sects could legally challenge other sects for territory, using sanctioned matches. Of course, this wasn’t the only way to take a sect’s territory, you could just bust down the door and take it by force, but matches were not only the more respected way to fight between sects but were also economic opportunities. They could make significant profits similar to gladiator matches.

 

The preconditions necessary for challenging a sect are extremely vague to the point Adam was sure he’d get something made up about him as soon as he started improving his district and a nearby sect would attempt to snatch it from him. So he needed warriors. Of course, if he could convince the opposing sect leader to fight him one-on-one that would be ideal, but even then he wasn’t trained in weaving at all. Considering the unknown capacity of his daemon body, which apparently had the condensed strength of his worldwide organization in it he’d likely win, but that was a gamble he wasn’t too keen on taking.

 

Thinking about it, he definitely needed to figure out his body. And weaving too. Parsing through the information given to him from the energy-being, he found that he’d been gifted with quite the repository of knowledge about the magic that was weaving. Surprisingly enough, the name wasn’t just flowery wording; much of the system revolved around manipulating “spira”, essentially magical threads. The spira are spun from magical energy, called “ennea”, in the weaver’s “kernel”, which is a sort of ethereal organ located in the lower abdomen. The spira are then pulled out from the kernel, through the weaver’s body, and manipulated to produce effects. Weaving naturally flows with and compliments martial arts owing to the physical movement required to manipulate spira, so weavers are nowhere near the “frail wizard” body stereotypical of fantasy stories from back on Earth.

 

That was fine with Adam, who had trained extensively in martial arts when he was first establishing and expanding Sicariidae. Those old skills wouldn’t directly transfer, but the experience of learning them and the logic behind them would definitely help when he established his sect's weaving style and arts.

 

As Adam continued his walk through the mainways towards his destination, he attempted to weave for the first time. It was a strange feeling, but within a few seconds he could sense his kernel. It felt quite full and powerful, but he had nothing to compare against so he wasn’t sure. The information he’d been given wasn’t too specific about how to spin spira, but he imagined plucking at the ball of energy in his kernel, pulled on it with his will, and began to twist. Soon he could see it, in his mind’s eye. The image of a glowing thread appeared, and it was snaking up from his abdomen to his chest. He pulled it to his right arm, and his eyes lit up with delight when he guided it out of his hand and he saw a faint glow within his robe.

 

Taking a look around him he realized he’d gotten to the district in question. He could tell by how dilapidated it was that it was not being maintained well, and the only people seemed to be poor. No weaver’s robes in sight, other than his own. He could feel a not insignificant amount of eyes following him as he made his way deeper into the unclaimed district, and even caught a few whispered mutterings about him with his acute hearing.

 

Ducking into a side alley deep within the district, he finally found himself alone. His hearing told him nobody was within a good twenty meters of the entrance to the alley. Bringing out his right hand to get a better look, he could see the spira hanging from his palm. The image he had in his mind’s eye was imperfect, given this was his first time weaving, but he could now see his first spira in perfect clarity.

 

It was garbage. Uneven, rough, frizzy, every bad quality in a thread was there. He nearly laughed out loud at his thought that maybe this would be easy to master. He obviously had much to learn. Still, he was right to be proud of forming a thread on the first try. Even counting the advantage his body gave him, only a prodigy could form a thread solid enough to exist outside the body on their first try. Of course, Adam didn’t know that, and thus was somewhat humbled by the sight of his first thread. The humbling feeling, however, was overpowered by curiosity and desire as he thought of how fun it would be to learn magic in this world. A smile began to form on his face.

 

Heavy footsteps jolted Adam out of his mind. They were coming towards his alley. Two sets of footsteps, and based on their cadence and weight, he could tell they were well-built people. Adam knew being cornered in an alley, especially given his lack of fighting experience in this world, would be bad, so he quickly dashed to the entrance of the alley, stopping and smoothing his robes over before exiting as nonchalantly as possible. The unknowns were coming from the right of the alley’s exit , so he went left. As he was exiting, he caught a glimpse of them. He was right - two huge men, obviously weavers, given their robes, were walking towards him. Their eyes widened as he left the alley, and as he began walking away, they called out.

 

“Hey!” called the one on the left. His voice was gruff. “Stop there! You need to pay the toll!”

 

Adam immediately knew what was happening. It was extortion, and he was likely targeted because it's way more likely someone wearing weaver’s robes would be worth robbing. He began to smile. He hadn’t been extorted since his days as an orphan. Back then he simply would have beat the shit out of whoever tried it, given how gifted he was in martial arts as a teen. Now he had to be more careful. While he was fairly certain he could properly execute his fighting techniques in this new body, weaving was a huge variable. And given the quality of the silver embroidered white robes, they were from a not insignificant sect, raising their possible skill level.

 

He couldn’t fight them head on, but he couldn’t run either. The most basic weaving techniques were body enhancements - they’d catch up with him in no-time. That left negotiation. His smile got wider as he turned around.

 

“Ah, hello colleagues!” Adam performed the proper greeting for weavers, an upper body bow with right fist on left palm. “What’s this about a toll?”

 

The two men stopped approaching at about two meters. The one that had called out to him initially was the bigger of the two, but only slightly. He could tell they were both quite muscular even through the robes, and while they were tall they were both shorter than Adam, who guessed his new body’s height was somewhere between 6 and 7 feet, leaning to the taller side.

 

Adam’s wide smile and respectful demeanor combined with his height seemed to startle the two for a split second, before they regained composure. The shorter of the two spoke next.

 

“Yeah, the White Snake sect charges a toll for weavers visiting.”

 

Adam turned the smile down slightly in fake contemplation. “That’s strange, I was under the impression this district was sectless? Why would the White Snake sect be charging a toll as if they control it?”

 

Both men seemed slightly taken aback at his response. The shorter one made to respond, but Adam cut him off.

 

“Unless, oh no, are you undergoing financial troubles? That pains me, the great White Snake sect is in such trouble they’re charging tolls in unclaimed districts.” Adam shook his head in fake disappointment.

 

“No, we-” the bigger one began before being cut off by Adam again.

 

“And charging a poor, sectless weaver at that? Look at my robes! I’m barely living right now, and you’re trying to charge a toll from me? How desperate is the White Snake sect?”

 

The two’s eyes were wide with anger.

 

“It’s ok. I can sympathize with poverty. But seriously, if you guys keep doing this you’ll bring down your sect’s reputation, acting like common thieves. Don’t worry, I won’t tell anyone. You should go back and help out at your sect’s territory. I need to go find a place to sleep for tonight.”

 

With that, Adam walked past the men the way they came from, the two both too stunned to stop him, planning to get out of the deserted areas of the district so they couldn’t try anything. Disappointingly to him, however, he picked up what the two men said next, as he was leaving.

 

“That little bastard!”

 

“He’s sectless trash, let's just kill him and take his stuff after.”

 

“Works for me, not like there are any witnesses here who’d snitch on weavers of the White Snake.”

 

Adam lost his smile completely at that. He didn’t enjoy killing, but he did have a rule. As soon as you decide to kill someone you should be ready to put your own life on the line. He’d have no qualms killing someone who’d decide on murder as casually as they did. The problem was how. In this new world, he had no subordinates, could barely cast magic, and had no idea of his opponent’s strength. However, as he attempted to think of his next course of action, he was cut short.

 

In less than a few seconds one of the men had closed the gap and a curved blade was sticking through his abdomen. The man had given him a clean horizontal slash from behind, entering under Adam’s rib cage and cutting right up to his spine. Or at least that’s what should have happened.

 

Adam and the man alike were confused; Adam could clearly see the sword sticking through his side as it went straight through his robes, yet rather than the immense pain of being cut nearly in half, all Adam felt was a jarring impact. The man saw his sword slice through the sectless weaver’s robe and into his side, but he did not feel the telltale resistance of flesh, and instead his sword was stopped cleanly, the rebound straining his arms.

 

Both sets of eyes widened as Adam moved to get a better look at his ‘wound’, and his robe shifted, giving both of them a view of the immense, shark-toothed mouth formed on Adam’s side that was currently holding the man’s sword between its teeth. The sight caused Adam to smile his signature smile, and the man to go pale with fear.

 

“D- Daemon!” he shrieked, loosening his grip on the sword. In response Adam took control of his new abdomen-mouth without thinking, and chomped the sword down, instincts he didn’t know he had telling him to eat it. Instantly he felt a strange tingling, like when your arm has circulation cut off for too long and you can’t feel it normally anymore. Following that feeling and his new instincts, Adam ‘shook’ his phantom arm, and attempted to pull it in front of him.

 

In response, the man’s sword manifested out of his right wrist, and despite how painful it looks to have a sword slide out of your wrist, Adam felt no pain from the action. At this point the tall man was on his ass, having fallen after Adam ate his sword. Before he could get out another word Adam slashed the man’s throat with the sword. He felt more hungry than disgusted at the man’s corpse, which concerned him, but he could figure out his body after dealing with the other man.

 

The other man, after seeing his friend’s sword eaten and used to kill him, immediately began running away. He knew he couldn’t handle a daemon at his level. He needed to get to the nearest White Snake district - no, any Sect-controlled district, and ask for help. Before he could, however, Adam caught up with him, his running pace beating even the man’s weave-enhanced body with ease.

 

Adam attempted to slash the man, but unlike the other opponent this man was in the proper state of mind to dodge, and counterattacked Adam with a dagger. That turned out to be a very bad decision, as Adam manifested his other mouth on his abdomen again, biting off the man’s dagger arm at the shoulder, and promptly swallowing the dagger and arm. He was suddenly hit with the uncomfortably delicious taste of the man’s blood. Another issue to sort out when the fight was over. The man was in no state to fight back after having his dominant arm eaten, so Adam easily killed him with the first one’s sword.

 

Adam sat down near the man’s corpse and checked himself. No injuries. That was good, much better than he’d expected his first fight to go in this world. Although he’d expected his first fight to be after going through at least some training too, so maybe he should reset all his expectations at this point. Adam sighed and took a look around him. He’d turned a few corners chasing the second man, so the first’s corpse was no longer visible, and the alley was quite dark. He couldn’t see anybody back the way he came. That made sense, given how tight the alley was even with just him and the second man running side by side. He glanced at the second man’s corpse. The missing arm brought back the memory of how good the man’s blood tasted, so Adam quickly averted his eyes - and locked them with eyes staring at him down the alley to his left.

 

Both pairs of eyes widened, but neither person moved. It was quite dark, but with Adam’s new eyes he could clearly make out the other individual. It was a girl, likely in her early teens. She was thin, with almost sickly pale skin and long unkempt hair. It was obvious given the tattered cloth she wore and her general appearance that she was quite poor. Probably a resident of this district.

 

Most striking were two features - firstly, the girls eyes had the telltale shine many animals with good night vision had. Secondly, sprouting through the girl’s hair were four swept back, ridged horns.

 

Before Adam could even think of something to say, the girl dropped to her knees, planting her arms and forehead to the ground in a deep bow.

 

“Oh, great daemon! Please, help me! I’ll do anything, serve you for life, let you eat pieces of me, drink my blood, anything! Please, help me. I beg of you!” 

 

Adam was too stunned to respond. His brain was going a mile a minute. Her voice quivered with fear, but he could feel true conviction behind it. She needed help. She obviously misinterpreted his nature after seeing him eat a man’s arm and execute him, and so offered things that came to mind after that. This was definitely a strange situation, but certainly preferable to her running away to tell the nearby sects. Given the reaction of the other two daemons weren’t seen in the best light here. And though he’d won the fight with the two White Snake weavers, that victory was with daemon powers he barely understood against two weavers of likely miniscule strength given how little they fought back and how quickly they lost composure.

 

Adam stood, putting on the most comforting smile he could. The girl, still head to the ground, eyes glued shut, froze after hearing him rise.

 

“Raise your head.” 

 

The girl trembled as she raised her head to look at Adam.

 

“Explain your situation.”