Sitting up, James finally looked at Paul, who was expertly looking away from him and focused on the cards in his hands instead.

"If it's not a real card, what is it?" James asked.

"I mean, it is a card," Paul said as he set down '???'. "It's just probably not Puppeteer."

"What? Why do you mean?" James said, still tired but curious about the item that had brought him so much trouble.

"The foil has the wrong pattern. The cards from this gen used box patterns, and this one used swirls." Paul shrugged as he looked at the card. "I mean, it's well done though."

"How is that possible? It works on the slates."

"How should I know. Do only real cards work on them?" Paul asked, looking at James.

James worked his jaw before finally scowling at Paul.

"Don't know?" Paul said as he looked down at the card in his hands.

James shook his head. "That doesn't make any sense. The Illusionist Trainee card changed when I used it. Shouldn't this card reflect whatever it actually does?"

"Why are you asking me?" Paul said as he pulled one of his card arenas from the shelf. "Besides, that card doesn't even have a description now."

"Yeah, but... the image changed," James tried but gave up as Paul placed the 'fake' Puppeteer down. "How are cards even made?"

"Uhm... a factory?" Paul said uncertainly and shook his head before looking up at the two Wandering Pixies still floating above them. "Are you going to do anything about these?"

"They don't listen to me for some reason," James said as he rolled over and removed the cards from the slate, the pixies breaking apart into swirling mist as he did so.

"Well, these are common pixies. You need to summon a noble or royal pixie if you want them to fight."

"What?" James's mind tries to catch up with the sudden apparent change in topic.

"The Pyx set had a lot of rules like that," Paul said. "You never played that expansion."

"Uhm... no... I skipped it. I wasn't really interested in pixies," James admitted.

"Here," Paul said and handed James the two cards. "You should probably add some kind of equip card to keep the monster from being influenced by another summoner."

James' face turned slightly green at that thought. He hadn't even considered that. Would that even work? Could he end up as someone's play toy if they had the right card and took control of his monster form? He shook his head. "It doesn't matter, not like I will be changing back into her again."

"That's too bad. I like you better as a girl," Paul grinned.

"Don't you have a girlfriend?" James said with a flat expression.

"Yeah, but she doesn't randomly pull down her pants and show me her butt," Paul joked. "Well, except on special occasions, but that isn't random."

"S-shut up," James said, standing up and changing the topic. "Don't you want to hear what happened?"

"Yeah, but..." Paul said, looking at James and glancing down at his leg. "Can you... clean up first. You're kinda getting blood all over my floor."

"Right, uhm," James said as he put down the cards before pausing and looking around the apartment. "Where's the..."

"First door on the right," Paul said, pointing down the short hallway. "I'll see if I can find you something to wear."

James nodded and stood up before turning back to Paul. "Try not to summon anything dangerous."

"I wasn't going to," Paul said defensively. "I'm not you. I do have some self-control."

James took a deep breath before he turned, waltzed down the hallway, and entered the small bathroom. He examined his pants, slightly shredded and slightly bloody denim, before tossing them into the small garbage can. They had largely dried at this point, so the chances they could be saved were about nil.

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Paul sat in his living room alone as the shower started up. Things had happened very quickly. There he was, enjoying a nap, when a strange girl appeared at his door, claiming to be an old friend.

Sure, James had visited a few days beforehand but hadn't seen the man since he moved to the city.

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Paul lived off a modest trust as he pursued his dreams of being a top player. He wasn't, though. It wasn't impossible to live off the game, but it was far from possible for someone like him. He knew he was basically just throwing his life away. He had more than a few sleepless nights thinking about that, but he decided to enjoy it while he could. Whatever happened next would happen.

That was... of course, before today. Paul eyed the Arcane Slate that James had left sitting on his coffee table. Minutes before, two Wandering Pixies had floated above the table. Then there was the Emperor Osprey and even James himself.

Paul turned to look at the few drops of blood drying on the hardwood floor. He turned away, feeling queasy. He didn't have the stomach for that kind of thing.

Of course, he had dreams of the card game being real, but it was just a dream, an actual dream. Now, it was all too real.

Paul fished around in his couch and eventually pulled out the remote to his television. He turned it on, hoping to get his mind off his current situation and distract himself from the siren song of the magical device sitting only feet away.

His mind failed to rest even as he idly flipped through the channels. The implications were staggering. He paused now and again on a channel before resuming his mindless surfing. He thought he really should find James some clothing and was about to switch off the television when something caught his eye as he flipped past a channel.

"Oh, oh no," Paul said after changing the channel back to what turned out to be a local news network. James' face was plastered all over the screen.

"-is still at large. Anyone with information related to James Hawthorne is urged to contact their local-"

Paul flipped the TV off and sat there frozen. The need for air eventually forced him to resume breathing as he tried to think. Maybe it wasn't as bad as it seemed. He should watch the entire thing. Paul glanced back up at the blank screen. It was just a misunderstanding, right?

Paul shakily lifted the remote in his hand and turned back on the television.

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"James!" A voice called from outside the bathroom just as he finished washing his hair.

"What?" He called back. Maybe he was dropping off the clothing he had promised to find for him.

"JAMES!" He heard Paul yell and turned off the water.

"What?!" James said slightly louder.

"What the hell! What did you do!?" Paul yelled back.

James frowned. What was he talking about? He hadn't done anything but run away from some kind of action-hero ninja assassin or whatever the hell Elias was. "Can it wait?" He finally shouted back.

"No!"

James sighed and pulled himself out of the shower. He wanted to relax under the water for a while, and he hadn't really gotten clean yet, but he pulled one of the towels around himself and cracked open the door.

"What?" James said.

"You're all over the news!" Paul said, still shouting somewhat. "What... what... why?!"

"Uhm..." James said, feeling a bit hesitant at Paul's manic expression. "It's a long story."

"Try!" Paul said as he stepped back. "You're all over the news channels."

James gave a final longing glance back at the shower before sighing. "Okay."

James exited the bathroom, still only clothed in a towel, and followed Paul to the living room where the television was... well, it wasn't good.

"See, they said at least a dozen people were seriously injured, and at least one died!" Paul yelled at James, who was standing there watching the scenes on the screen.

"That rat bastard," James said. "That fucker isn't shown in any of these. I didn't do shit!"

"Did they show a guy on a motorcycle following me?" James asked, turning on Paul.

"What, no, just you fucking up the city," Paul shouted back.

"All I did was run away, it was... some ninja assassin or something that was chasing me that did all..." he gestured at the television. "That."

"Ninja Assassin. Really? Is that what you're going with?" Paul said, incredulous. "People are dead!"

"Paul," James said. "Listen. I only ran away from that guy. I didn't do any of that."

"But-"

"Paul! Look!" James said, pointing at the television. "They never show me doing anything, just riding on the wolf. All that other stuff just happens around me."

Paul glanced back at the television and then back at James. "Why-" he started, but his question was cut off as someone pounded on his front door, startling them.

"That-" James started, but the door was pounded on again.

"One moment!" Paul yelled before he turned to James. "This conversation isn't over."

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Paul opened the door to find the thing he least desired to see. He was fucked. So very fucked.

"Paul Brown," the solitary uniformed officer said, "I'm with the ELCPD. Do you mind if I come in?"

He wore the standard officers' pressed blue uniform with the recognizable ballistic vest and radio. He looked tired and wore a five o'clock shadow but stood impatiently.

"Uhm.. what is this about?" Paul said, keeping the door only cracked even as the officer tried to peer past him and into the apartment.

"It would be better if we discussed this inside," the officer pressed. "It's about an active case."

Paul almost passed out. On a scale of 1 to 10, he would have to say he was fucked. "Uhm... I... I kind of have company over."

That only seemed to increase the man's interest. He would have to say that he was fucked from the head down to the knees.

"Who is it?" a voice sounded from behind Paul, causing him to jump. He turned to see not James but the girl who had shown up at his door only hours before. She was dressed in the same clothing as earlier, and her head was once again covered by her loose hat, but he saw her tail peek out from behind her legs.

"Ah... It's the police," Paul said on autopilot. This was good, right? Right... no... good... yes...

James's appearance seemed to mollify the officer before he turned back to Paul. "Do you know of a man known as James Hawthorne?"

"The one from the news?" James asked, then shook her head. "Never seen him before."

"Ah, y-yeah. I don't know him," Paul said, looking very nervous. "Why do you ask?"

"Just some old records. We're just following up on every lead." The officer nodded before tipping his hat. "Thanks for your time."

The man looked between Paul and James. He simply smiled at them, "Enjoy your night. Try not to make too much noise."