Challenge Name and Number: Trap, #035
Drabble Title: Pride Goeth Before A Fall
Word Count: 599
Warnings (if applicable): N/A
Author's Note: Set during the Doma arc.
Summary: Everything depends on this one moment.
Take the bait.
He'd spent months preparing for this moment, readying himself for the duel to come and studying his adversary's deck. He had spent countless hours recreating and strengthening his deck to counter his opponent's; he did not know how many nights he had spent in the conference room with cards spread before him on the mahogany table, with no one to keep him company save a cooling mug of coffee and the cards in front of him.
He had spent even more time going over the details in his plan and finding the perfect location for their duel, tweaking things here and there whenever an obstacle was encountered; it was a pain when he had to adjust to whatever wrench was thrown in the works, but there were always minor setbacks in a major operation and he did not mind.
The moment the opportunity to enact his plan presented itself he had taken this chance, and so far it had been executed perfectly. From his adversary's arrival to this point of the duel everything had been running smoothly. However, it was this one crucial moment that he was counting on for his plan to be a success.
Everything would be decided in this turn.
Take the bait.
He'd backed his opponent into a corner and the other duelist knew it; at the rate things were going, the shorter man was going to lose in this turn unless he came up with a miracle. His rival's monsters were trapped unless the attack power changed and his life points were being whittled away by an earlier played magic card, but there was only one thing in the other duelist's hand that could change the way the duel was going—he had ensured its presence earlier.
Sure, his opponent could go ahead and lose. After all, there was really nothing at stake here in this duel; no rare cards being surrendered, no souls being sealed away, no lives being threatened…there really was nothing potent at risk yet. The only damage done would be to his enemy's pride. The Nameless Pharaoh could choose to accept the loss and walk away from this unscathed.
But it was that same pride—no, more like arrogance—that he was counting on for his plan to work.
Take the bait.
He watched the conflicted emotions play out on the Pharaoh's face, resignation battling with indignant pride; clearly the other man had never been caught in a situation where he had only one alternative. And judging by that frustrated expression, his latest draw had yielded nothing that could help him—the Pharaoh's deck had failed him.
Take it.
He continued to observe the other man patiently, watching the resolve in the Pharaoh's expression fade away as he slowly drew out a card from his hand and held it at arm's length. The shorter duelist seemed to hesitate for one last second, as if he was arguing with himself.
It only took one look at the Pharaoh's eyes to know that his plan had succeeded.
"I play the Seal of Orichalcos!" barked the Nameless Pharaoh authoritatively as he set the magic card into his Duel Disk. Almost at once a familiar green circle of energy spun around them, darkening the skies around them. The Seal of Orichalcos etched itself on the Pharaoh's forehead and tinted his eyes red.
And Raphael smiled in triumph.