“There you are! I’ve been looking all over for you.” A girl with pale hair, green eyes, and a frilly white dress that had somehow survived the trip through the tower entirely undamaged ran straight into the middle of the chaos without so much as slowing.

She didn’t even dodge the attacks going off in all directions, just ran in a direct path toward James that somehow didn’t get hit a single time.

“Why are you playing around with these boring people?” she demanded. “We have much more interesting things to be doing!”

James felt oddly nostalgic, the way she smiled at him. But… who…? How?

“Don’t look so confused, Representative James. It’s me! Loke!”

James took the revelation in stride. “What interesting things?”

“Let’s finish things here, then I’ll show you.” Her excitement was so great she nearly vibrated in place. “The tower things! Don’t you notice anything? I’m here! I’m in! Well, kind of.”

“I did notice that. It’s… new.” They both ignored the totems ravaging their surroundings and the constant barrage of attacks. “Guess I’ll quit playing so you can show me what all the fuss is about.”

—

Laril watched the entire confrontation play out as though in slow motion, his body and mind frozen in stunned disbelief.

This was his mother, the ultimate weapon of the whole family. There was more firepower in this confrontation arrayed against the single enemy than what would be sent against a frontline boss-clearing expedition…

And this man was tearing through it like it didn't exist!

His hand dropped numbly from the controls. The voices in his ears faded to a jumbled buzz. He really was dead. He'd overreached to the point where nothing and no one could save him.

It was so unfair!

One little brat had to pick his position to shove past? She stuck her prancy fancy nose right into the middle of his business, and now he was the one to suffer for it? His whole family, even?

He was clutching at his chest, as though he could physically force the cards to become something more than what they were.

There had to be something more he could do. Anything!

"I'm really sorry," said someone from behind him. He whirled and found a little girl with white hair staring at him with her hands together behind her back. "If you hadn't tried to kill my representative, you'd have made a great customer." She leaned back and inhaled deeply, a smile on her cherubic face. "But no amount of desperation is enough to repay what you've done."

Laril couldn't find the words, the comprehension. Who was this, what was she talking about?

"How did you get in here?" was all he managed to ask, and his voice sounded weak and frantic even to his own ears.

"The same way that does." She pointed to him. "Transmission. You're broadcasting your desperation like a beacon. I couldn't resist checking it out. But..." She tilted her head to one side, the light of the projection casting one side in blue outlines and the rest in shadow, her teal eye glinting in a way that suddenly made him very afraid. Even her voice changed, from light and soft to something cold and utterly merciless. "You are fully disqualified as a customer."

The narrative has been taken without permission. Report any sightings.

"W-why? Customer for...?" Laril backed away a step, but ran up against the edge of the table.

"Anything you wanted." She held up five legendary cards casually in one hand, flicked through them, then shrugged and tossed them over her shoulder where they disappeared into golden glitter. "But you hurt my friend. And tried to kill my representative. There's nothing you could offer to make me change my mind."

"Wait, no, I didn't, I'm not—" Laril didn't even know what he was denying, but the sight of those cards... thrown away so dismissively... He wanted them, needed them! They would allow him to save himself, save his family!

The battle raged on across the screens and the projection table, his family and their strongest allies falling one after the other as the arrogant shaman's Legendary totems did his dirty work for him. He just stood there, looking bored.

Bored.

Laril's fists clenched in fury, tears of helpless frustration leaking from his eyes.

"See?" Her voice sounded sad now. "You'd have been perfect. But I can't help someone who would immediately use that power against me. I wouldn't be above playing a prank or two on my dear representative, but this would be too far for a joke."

"Please. I'll do anything. Whatever you want. Just save my family."

The girl crossed her arms, tapping one finger against her chin. "Not yourself? Interesting. And here I thought you'd be a narcissistic prick until the end. Let me think about it."

"Who are you?"

"Loke! Also known as The Shop. Want to sell your soul?"

"My... what, n-no. There's no time! Don't you see what's happening?"

"Oh, shush. There's plenty of time to fix them. The tower is a flawless seal. They won't be going anywhere. You've got a good three or four minutes before they're irreparable."

"If you won't help me, then I'll make you!" He lunged for her.

She danced aside with a little laugh. "I really wouldn't try that if I were you. You don't have the capacity to handle what would happen if you actually managed to damage my avatar."

Laril was past caring about consequences. He was past reason. He just needed to feel like he was doing something, anything, to rectify the situation.

And if that meant strangling an arrogant little Legendary girl, then it wouldn't bother him in the least.

"Hold still," he growled and lunged for her again.

"If you insist. But I warn you, you really won't like the consequences."

He grabbed hold of her scrawny throat—

His whole body went rigid as though he'd stuck his finger in the wrong end of a spell battery. He barely had time for his eyes to widen in horror before something cold and empty gripped his chest. The tighter he held the girl, the deeper the cold sensation grew.

Unfortunately for poor Laril, he jumped to the conclusion that this was something she was doing to him, and that killing her faster would be the way to get rid of it.

If he were any less desperate, he'd not have been able to move. But the panic and adrenaline were just enough to fight past the paralysis. Moving jerkily in little frantic bursts, he grabbed a sword from the nearby weapon rack and jammed it into his adversary's chest.

His deck imploded in his chest. Consciousness fled.

The last thing he saw was the girl holding out her hand, head tilted curiously, as the silver dust that was once his priceless inheritance drifted up from his collapsing body.

He woke up to a yawning emptiness that threatened to consume him from within, and a very angry young man with black hair, red eyes, and a scowl that could melt the flesh off a terrorfrog.

Laril yelped and tried to back away, but he was already lying against the wall. He scrabbled helplessly, reaching for something, anything, but there was nothing.

The girl was gone. Maybe he'd imagined it.

But, no. The gaping emptiness in his chest... That was real. His deck... his stats, his levels, all of it was gone.

"Impossible," he croaked.

"I have one question for you, Laril. How do you want to die?"