Aetheric Chronicles: Reborn As An Extra

Round tables, draped in rich velvet cloth, were spread throughout the hall. Each table was surrounded by high-backed chairs upholstered in fine leather, and the guests who occupied them were just as refined.

The Elites—men and women adorned in the finest silks and jewels—sat engaged in quiet conversations, most of their voices barely above a whisper. Golden candelabras illuminated their faces, highlighting the sharpness of their features and the haughtiness in their eyes.

Adrian counted around twenty or so patrons. Each one was attended by servers dressed in crisp, black uniforms, who moved with a grace and efficiency that suggested years of training.

The air was thick with the aroma of exotic dishes, delicacies that could only be sourced from the farthest corners of the continent. The gentle clinking of silverware against porcelain was the only sound, aside from the hushed conversations that ceased the moment Adrian entered.

All eyes turned toward him, the quiet dining hall suddenly still. It was as if the entire room had taken a collective breath, their curiosity piqued by the presence of someone new—someone they didn\'t recognize.

The surprise on their faces was palpable, their eyes narrowing in assessment, trying to place this unfamiliar figure who had dared to enter their exclusive sanctuary.

Adrian met their gazes with a cool, unwavering stare.

He knew what they were thinking. In a world as insular as this, newcomers were rare and often unwelcome.

Yet he remained calm, his posture relaxed, his steps unhurried as he moved further into the room. If any of these elites doubted his place here, they would find no sign of uncertainty on his face. He was one of them now, at least for the moment.

As he walked, he noticed the subtle shifts in the patrons\' auras—curiosity mingled with suspicion. Some were intrigued, others wary.

Adrian caught the eye of an older man seated near the center of the room, a figure draped in deep crimson robes adorned with gold embroidery. The man\'s expression was impassive, but his eyes were sharp, appraising Adrian with a keenness that spoke of decades of navigating the murky waters of high society.

\'Is he \'him\'?\'

Adrian inclined his head slightly in acknowledgment, a gesture that was returned with a curt nod. It was a silent understanding, a recognition of the game they were all part of. He continued toward the back of the room, where a table had been left unoccupied, as if it had been waiting just for him.

As he approached, a waiter appeared at his side, as if summoned by an invisible command. The waiter was a young man with a flawlessly pressed uniform and a neutral expression that hid any surprise he might have felt at seeing an unfamiliar face.

"May I take your order, sir?" the waiter asked, his tone respectful, with just the right amount of deference.

Adrian paused for a moment, glancing at the menu that was handed to him. He skimmed over the items—each dish more extravagant than the last.

He chose something simple yet elegant, a dish that was known among the elites for its subtlety and refinement. After placing his order, he handed the menu back, and the waiter bowed slightly before disappearing into the background.

As Adrian sat down, he allowed his gaze to drift around the room. He knew that the mastermind—that woman—was likely aware of his presence.

If she was here, hidden among the elites, likely on the second floor, she would be watching him closely. Her eyes, or perhaps those of her agents, would be assessing his every move, waiting to see how he would navigate this treacherous terrain.

The thought of her experiments, those two monstrous creations she had unleashed at the Myrandor mountains, crossed his mind briefly.

She was more than just a dangerous opponent—she was a mad genius who had crossed ethical boundaries that most would never dare to approach. And yet, here she was, becoming one of the Elites and brewing a plan that might as well destroy the whole city.

Adrian\'s fingers lightly traced the edge of the table, his expression unreadable. He knew that she might recognize him, despite him not having the mask and the clothes he wore that day.

After all, she had experimented with numerous...

No, he shook the thought away. Dwelling on it wouldn\'t help him now. What mattered was the here and now, and the game they were both playing.

The hush in the room gradually faded as the other patrons resumed their conversations, though Adrian could feel the occasional glance still directed his way which meant they were talking about him.

But, it didn\'t bother him. In fact, it amused him. Let them wonder. Let them speculate.

Adrian leaned back in his chair, a slight smile playing on his lips as he waited for his meal to arrive. He was in the lion\'s den now, surrounded by the city\'s most powerful and influential. But he was no lamb.

"Hello, cutie,"

Well, it seems like someone thinks he is one.

Adrian turned his head slightly to the side, his gaze meeting the eyes of the woman who had spoken. She was striking, no doubt—her beauty had a mature charm, enhanced by the way she carried herself with an air of confidence.

Her attire was as lavish as the Hall itself: a gown of deep emerald silk that shimmered under the chandelier light, adorned with intricate gold embroidery. Around her neck hung a necklace of rare gems that caught the light with every movement, and her fingers were adorned with rings that gleamed with the same opulence.

Her eyes, a sharp green that matched her gown, were fixed on Adrian, filled with a mixture of curiosity and amusement. She was clearly someone used to getting what she wanted, someone who had played the game of high society for years and had mastered every move.

But Adrian\'s thoughts were less than appreciative. Inwardly, he cursed his own luck.

\'Why do I have to pique her interest of all people?\'

He had hoped to remain under the radar, at least for the time being, but it seemed that his entrance had drawn more attention than he had anticipated.

Still, he kept his composure, schooling his features into an expression of polite interest. There was no point in being rude—not here, not now.

"Hello, miss," Adrian replied, his voice smooth and controlled. His tone was respectful, yet held just enough detachment to signal that he wasn\'t overly interested in engaging further.

The woman\'s lips curved into a small, knowing smile, as if she could sense the careful distance he was trying to maintain. "Quite the entrance you made," she remarked, her voice low and sultry, meant to draw him into conversation. "It\'s not often we see a new face here at the Valerian Hall."

Adrian inclined his head slightly, acknowledging her observation. "I imagine it\'s not a place where just anyone can walk in," he replied, his tone mild, though his words held a subtle edge.

The woman laughed softly, the sound like the chime of fine crystal. "Indeed. Only those with… certain privileges find their way here." Her eyes gleamed with interest as she took a step closer, as if trying to see past the carefully crafted mask Adrian wore. "And you, young man? What brings you to this little sanctuary of ours?"

Adrian knew he needed to reply carefully. She was probing, testing to see what kind of player he was in this game. He couldn\'t afford to reveal too much, not to someone he knew how dangerous they were. But neither could he appear evasive.

"Business," Adrian answered simply, his gaze steady on hers. "The kind that requires a certain level of discretion."

However, his plan seemed to have backfired as the woman\'s smile grew wider, indicating the growth of her interest.

\'Damn, now I don\'t have a way out...\'