The metal manhole cover sizzled under the heat from Lumina’s magic, but any further sounds were muffled once Phil wrapped his battered Ra Yellow jacket around his hands and eased the warped, scorching hot metal over his head and to the side. He sneaked his head over the lip of the hole and flicked his eyes left and right. This was the third time he’d poked his face above street level, and the first time that he hadn’t been met with the sight of uniformed police officers scurrying about in the distance.

“Lumina. Looks like this is our best bet.”

Lumina silently nodded her head and activated her magic with a flick of her fingers to once more toggle her invisibility back on to her preferred mode now that she didn’t need to interact with the physical world anymore.

As soon as Lumina gave him a thumbs up, Phil lifted himself out of the stinking hole in the ground and began to amble down the alleyway, where not even ten feet away there was a cluster of ragged men grouped around a gently smoldering metal trashcan. Then without even having to speak a word, Phil grabbed a discarded wooden crate, placed it on the ground near the men, and sat down like he’d been there the entire time.

The two men closest to Phil mumbled a greeting, seeing nothing but a battered kid down on his luck and smelling of sewage. A third man causally passed a scratched metal flask around the circle, one which Phil flinched and politely refused after smelling the liquid within when passed his way.

Lumina gently smiled upon seeing Phil’s reaction to the whiskey, and her hand fell back from where it had been inching closer to where her bag was floating.

“I’m proud of you, Phil.” She said with an approving voice, shifting herself to lay back on her super fluffy cloud like it was the most comfortable couch in the world.

Phil sighed, closing his eyes and letting his mind slip away from the present to daydream of places that were anywhere but where he was currently. The soft conversations of the ragged troupe of men sitting with him around the smoldering barrel drifted through the air and winded around his ears to form a low-pitched buzzing sound in the background. Minutes passed into hours, and Phil still sat on the crate with his eyes closed, as solid as a statue that had been there since New York City had been first founded. Lumina’s hand brushed over his hair to ruffle it reassuringly without care for the bits of sewer sludge scattered around Phil’s head.

Phil quietly sighed again. The faint mental images of his daydreams that rushed around his mind were like a multi-headed hydra. His apartment back home. He’d left laundry drying on racks in the living room before he’d left for the tournament at his local game store. His last one. His folks were planning to visit his place the next day. They would catch up. Maybe eat some brownies.

The constant fuck ups he’d made in his first few months in this world. In all honesty, he’d been lucky the others had stuck around until he’d gotten his head screwed on correctly. The duel on the roo-

His eyes shot wide open to stare silently at the clouds above. He’d never felt this thirsty before in his entire life.

-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-

One foot in front of the other. One foot in front of the other. That was the mantra that was running through Anastasia’s head in a constant loop. To put it frankly, it felt like she’d been run over by a car. The damage from the fight against that uncouth man, Big Shoe. The wounds she’d sustained not even dueling, but more of just surviving against the cur that ambushed them afterward.

The worst part was that she knew Gecko was having an even more difficult time. Anastasia could tell fairly easily that her friend was gritting his teeth to try and hide his limp. Maybe through a fit of pride, or simply to try and reassure her. Either way, Anastasia pointedly ignored the soft hisses of pain that escaped his lips every time he took a step. He could have that small victory, at least. It likely didn’t help that Gecko was still carrying poor Samui over his shoulder like a limp sandbag.

There was nothing either of them could do about that. Samui Kori had barely been conscious when Bon Lectro had first revealed himself. That consciousness had vanished into the wind as soon as their opponent had fled. She wasn’t quite sure why. One moment his eyes were open, and the next he let out a piercing wail of pain and collapsed.

At least Gecko said he was still alive. That was better than nothing, at least until they could get to a payphone to call an ambulance from the best hospital her family’s money could buy.

The door creaked open and Anastasia continued looping her mantra through her head to step through it… until she ran into Gecko’s broad back. The impact, slight as it was, was enough to jolt her out of her thoughts. Had Gecko seen something? Another enemy?

Anastasia peered around her friend. As soon as her eyes cleared his back, her mind completely blanked out.

It was…

Carnage.

Her mind blanked out as she tried to process the carnage. Splatters of blood coated the grass in a slick, sticky paint. Students still clad in their Duel Academy uniforms were scattered along the grass and the sidewalk around the nearby parking garage like clumps of discarded dolls left by a careless child. Some merely looked like they had just gone to sleep where they’d fallen. Others were worse. Broken bones piercing through flesh. Bodies that were literally cut in half by whatever object had struck them. Paramedics rushed around with stretchers like ants scurrying around a disturbed nest to find the lucky few that still breathed. They all ran around a crimson path leading from the exit of the parking garage to the gate separating the campus from the city. Beyond that, all she could see were thick columns of oily black smoke reaching up to the harsh noon sun.

“Christ… those people…” She choked out. Her hands flew up to her mouth once her brain finally understood precisely what she was looking at. “I… I…”

Words failed Anastasia Capet in the end. She continued to stutter, stomach convulsing until Gecko’s firm, solid grip landed on her shoulder like a moving mountain to redirect her gaze. Anastasia didn’t even have the strength to look up at him. She merely walked with rubbery legs as Gecko solemnly steered her out of sight from the blood-soaked lawn.

“It’s best not to look. We’ll find another path off campus."

Anastasia pushed down a wave of rising bile back into her stomach and glued her eyes to the ground so she could only see a foot or two in front of her. No matter what, she couldn’t lose any more of her composure. Samui was unconscious. Gecko was not. Losing her composure would only worsen the effect of that sight on her friend, who was trying so hard to keep up his usual calm demeanor. She didn’t even need to glance up at Gecko’s face to see how difficult that was.

It was almost funny. In an exceedingly grim sort of way. She knew, and likely Gecko knew, that both of them were fighting desperately to stay outwardly calm so that the other wouldn’t break down and collapse before they could get Samui medical treatment.

-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-

Water splashed against concrete as Bon Lectro pulled himself out of the disgusting, trash-filled waters of the East River. He let out a series of hoarse, foul curses as his legs bumped against the artificial concrete shore. Nothing was broken. There was no blood coming from them. But it was still a rock-solid fact that jumping through a glass window on the second floor of a building wasn't a great way to keep your body in tip-top shape. He could still clearly remember the sounds of his bones creaking on impact in his mind’s eye. Of his ankles nearly fracturing. Hell, they would have fractured if he hadn’t used a bit of magic to slightly soften his fall.

Bon Lectro let out a few more words that would even make a sailor blush in shame. He took off his puffy blue jacket, stained black to the point that he couldn't even see the 'security' words printed on it, and wrung out the sodden fabric. At this point, it was probably ruined forever. His sunglasses were missing. No doubt snatched away by the cruel current of the East River he'd been forced to swim through to avoid the literal packs of hunting hounds barking at his heels. No doubt deployed by Kaiba to run down the scattered remains of MacKenzie’s forces. He didn’t even fully understand why and how Kaiba even had packs of hunting hounds sitting around in New York City, waiting to be used to track his enemies.

If you stumble upon this narrative on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen from Royal Road. Please report it.

It just didn’t make any sense!

Damnit, the whole day hadn’t made sense. One moment Bon Lectro had gotten paged to deal with some rats who were busy killing his psychic in the security room while his boss was rampaging around the city trying to squash a gnat.

And the next? Seto fucking Kaiba had shown up. That alone had put him on edge. But they’d made a contingency plan for that. Ninja Nan would head over with their asset from the infirmary and intercept the man before he could cause too much damage to the campus. Then they would stall until Principal MacKenzie could arrive to deal with the situation.

That was the plan. At least until the shadowy connection between the principal and his servants had just… disappeared.

It hadn’t even snapped. One moment it was there. The next? It was like the connection had never even existed in the first place. That was the absolute worst-case scenario. If it had snapped, that would have implied that somewhere out in the world, the other end of the connection still existed. It would have implied that in some shape or form, the monster known as Tragoedia was still alive. It would have almost been like a string. A string cut in half still had pieces that could be taped back together with time and effort. Just like a creature like his boss could have, in a normal situation, been revived with enough time and effort.

But the connection had disappeared to be replaced by utter nothingness.

That was what scared Bon Lectro the most. The fact that there was someone out there who completely eradicated every single atom of that monster's existence. That made it literally impossible for his boss, a duel spirit, to be resurrected. He didn't even know it was possible to completely erase a duel spirit before today.

So, Bon Lectro fled. He'd jumped out of the second-story window. Prevented his ankles from snapping like twigs with what magic he had left. Jumped into the fucking East River to avoid the dogs. Endured the damage of the darkness punishing him for fleeing the shadow game before it had ended.

“And how did you get out in one piece? Weren’t you supposed to stall Kaiba?” Bon Lectro finished his thoughts with a question directed to the faint presence a few feet away. Given the fact that he could actually sense her… she probably wanted to talk. Probably.

Ninja Nan’s shadowy form flickered into view.

“Oh, you know. I had the asset with me. He bought enough time for me to get out before that crazy fella broke the admin building. Though…” Nan gently caressed her left arm with a pained smirk, “I had to pay a price regardless. Those shadows sure are merciless against runaways, aren’t they?”

Bon Lectro grunted in irritated agreement. He opened his mouth to reply, but Nan answered before he could even form his question with words.

“I already checked the safe house. It’s undiscovered by Kaiba for now. But… I found something interesting.”

Nan flicked a single tarot card toward him, which Bon Lectro caught with a look of mild curiosity.

“Death?”

“Both of them are. Upright when I found them.” Nan lifted another tarot card, which was an exact copy of the one she threw at him. “I also found this spell card. Selection of Fate.”

Bon Lectro turned the card over in his hand. “Upright. That would mean change, transformation, or transition. Perhaps even an ending. But this address on the back…”

“Interesting, isn’t it? I think it’s somewhere in Domino City if I had to guess. A place where our mysterious benefactor wishes to meet us.” Nan replied. She took on a more frivolous tone, but there was an undercurrent of hesitation in her voice that Bon Lectro almost immediately noticed. Was the woman worried about what would become of them now that their leader was dead? Hell, he was too. Any sane person would be. To stay in this city would mean death. To meet with an insane fortune teller could mean a fate worse than that. But the word ‘could’ was far less certain than the word ‘would’.

“So. What are you going to do?”

Bon Lectro flicked the card back over and stared at the picture that signified Death.

“An ending and a change, huh?”

-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-

“So thus The Magician remains upright.”

Sartorius stared at the card with a slight frown. For just the briefest of moments, it had almost appeared as if the death of The Moon would have caused The Magician to permanently remain reversed. But there was some sort of outside force providing a counterbalance… one that he couldn’t quite read. Troubling. An outside force with enough influence to keep The Magician upright, but small enough that he couldn’t see it.

No matter. The Fool was still the highest priority. It was no matter that The Hanged Man could no longer be used. That The Strength would not be a factor in the equation. That The Fool was propped up by the power of The Magician.

No. Perhaps this was indeed a problem. The influence of The Magician was cutting his plans to pieces bit by bit. Like an enthusiastic kid with a pair of scissors and an energy drink. But what could he do? No matter how hard he tried, the fate of The Magician could not be influenced by his power. But why? The cards held no answers. No. He needed to look at this from a different angle.

Sartorius let out a deep sigh. He stood up ramrod straight and walked neither quickly nor slowly over to the window to raise the blinds. Before him, the streets of Domino City spread out in all their glory. Hundreds of thousands of pedestrians laughing and chatting and walking without a care in the world, unknowing of Sartorius’s goals.

“Aster.”

The boy in question smoothed his spotless white suit and stepped out of the corner, closer to the fortune teller.

“Yes?”

“The events in America have concluded. The results are not ideal. We must move quickly, to be ready by the time the summer ends. The tarot calls for another champion, one to work alongside you. That fellow champion is here. In Domino City. Confront Truesdale. Shatter his wavering resolve and show him the truth of the light.”

Aster Phoenix nodded but did not immediately leave the room. "As destiny desires. Should I also confront The Emperor?”

Sartorius gently shook his head. "No. I shall bring him to the light myself. However, before you face Truesdale, contact The Hermit. Tell him it is time. He will know what to do.”

“As destiny desires.” Aster repeated. He bowed deeply towards Sartorius and walked out of the room, moving neither too quickly nor too slowly. Time hardly mattered. Not when destiny would ensure that his objectives were met at precisely the time they needed to be.

-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-

“Found the MacKenzie siblings.”

Kaiba glanced over to Roland, who nodded wordlessly and stalked out of the office his men had converted into a temporary command center. That was another thing resolved. First, his men had encountered Adrian Gecko, Anastasia Capet, and some unconscious kid heading out the rear entrance of the campus. All three were covered in wounds, and the two conscious kids had spun quite a story for his ears.

An abrupt alliance between those two, Phillip Jenson, and David Rabb to rescue a classmate and defeat a group of powerful dark mages. If Kaiba hadn’t dueled several of those mages himself, he might have considered the possibility of them feeding him tall tales. That they’d heard about Kaiba’s own exploits in his younger years and thought to copy them. But no, they’d actually done it. In the short period of time between Phillip contacting Roland about the murdered student, and Kaiba’s arrival on campus, this group of students had done something that was nearly impossible for most people on the planet to do.

They’d actually somewhat impressed Seto Kaiba.

The scions of the Gecko and Capet families. The adopted child of MacKenzie, who had somehow managed to shake off the possession put in place by his foster father. And a Ra Yellow student of the central branch of his Duel Academy. It was an unlikely alliance, but the fact remained that the four teens managed to tear their way through a series of potent enemies.

They were duelists. Worthy duelists, all four of them.

As soon as Kaiba put those four in his incredibly small box of people he actually considered fellow duelists, he sent out a posse of men to find them. At first, it was just a group of suit-wearing men with guns to comb through the chaos of the campus. Then Mokuba arrived after finishing up with the Mayor and Roland was added to the search team. The process sped up greatly once that happened.

Gecko, Capet, and the unconscious boy were relocated to the best hospital in New York City. No paperwork or payment needed. Mainly because Kaiba owned the hospital.

David Rabb and Reggie MacKenzie were found on one of the upper floors of the infirmary. Lying in a bloody, exhausted, but somehow triumphant mess on the floor. They joined the trio in the hospital.

Phillip Jenson’s location was still unknown, but Mokuba was under the belief that he would call in once the heat died down. And even if he was injured, Phillip was last seen in the company of some mysterious woman who could doubtlessly get him to a hospital if necessary.

Kaiba shook his head and turned around toward the door. Now that the dust was settling, there was little point in him staying. Roland and Mokuba could handle the rest.

“Oh, and Roland.” Kaiba halted in the doorway. “Let me know when Phillip is found. I have questions that need answering.”

Roland muttered a quick affirmative and hesitantly returned Kaiba’s words with a question of his own.

“Roger that. And… about the boy that passed away. What should we do?”

Kaiba’s face darkened at Roland’s question. “I’ll handle it.”

That was all Roland needed to hear. As soon as Kaiba vanished from the room, he let out a sigh of relief and turned his full attention back to the radio setup and the computer screen in front of him. Cleanup after a massacre like this was a horrible experience. It always was. But at least he didn't have to deal with the heart-wrenching duty of telling a parent their child was dead… and the reactions of Midori Hibiki and Vellian Crowler once they were informed.