The morning sun shone down on the Neo Domino City skyline, brightening another weekday. Sunlight glittered off of countless buildings, turning the city of metal and glass into an artful scene of energy and awakening potential.
The worker in his sky-high cubicle didn't even bother looking towards a window. He sat at his desk, idly sifting through his junk mail. He savored a few precious minutes of calm in the card design department of Industrial Innovative Integrated Illusions (I_4), the world-famous dueling product conglomerate.
Somewhere behind him, a radio talk show host was saying, "...and in local news, Security Director Godwin has announced the upcoming Fortune Cup duel tournament! Godwin made a press release yesterday evening."
The Director's calm and stately voice emanated from the radio. "There are countless visitors to our fair city who have been here for days without getting to see a tournament, and I'm determined to stop this oversight before it goes any further."
The announcer chimed in, "That's great news, Mr. Godwin. And the winner of this tournament will get to challenge the King of Riding Duels, Jack Atlas! Here's our King's reaction to the news."
His young and fiery voice barked, "I've crushed everyone who has challenged my title! Do you know how many of them were tournament winners? And yet they couldn't beat me! Two days of audience exposure won't help this challenger stand a chance!"
From closer at hand came the sound of, "Hey, Mike?"
The man looked up to see his co-worker leaning over the top of the cubicle's neighboring wall. "What, Tom?"
"I got this design for a new card here. This is really weird – check it out." Over the wall, he handed Mike a page on a clipboard.
Mike scanned the lines calmly. "Thorn of Malice, equip spell... huh, could be useful for prolonging battle damage–"
"No, not the effect!" Tom interrupted. "Read the top line!"
"Equip only to a Plant-type monster or to 'Black Rose Dragon'..." Mike gave the clipboard back. "What about it?"
"Have you ever heard of any 'Black Rose Dragon' monster?"
His eyes narrowed. "Don't start this again."
"I mean it this time! I have never heard of a card like that!"
Mike tried to smile dismissively. "It might just be an older card–"
"But that's the problem! I tried looking up when it was published, and I found this." Tom hoisted his laptop over the cubicle wall for his co-worker to see.
The screen had gone entirely black except for several lines of vivid red text:
Nobody has ever printed a "Black Rose Dragon."
Nobody is ever going to print a "Black Rose Dragon."
Nobody has ever printed any dragons that are in any way related to a "Black Rose Dragon."
Even if such dragons existed, they would not be related to any security system for any world-class cutting-edge multibillion-yen power plant.
No, not even that one.
You are hallucinating.
Close your browser window.
Now.
In stony silence, Mike looked back at his co-worker and raised an eyebrow.
Tom waved a frantic hand towards the text. "What are we doing, designing cards for dragons that show up out of nowhere? It's just like that Stardust Xiaolong we printed way back when, working with a so-called 'Stardust Dragon'–"
"Hey, first off: you're nuts. And second: there is a Stardust Dragon – we've both seen that Jack Atlas guy use it."
"Yeah, sure, but he doesn't use it nearly as often as his Red Daemon's Dragon! And every time he does use Stardust Dragon, he goes all silent and stares off into space like he's expecting aliens to land! You can't tell me that's not weird!"
Maintaining deadpan eye contact, Mike muttered, "Oh, I've seen weirder..."
"But that's not the worst part!" Tom looked around the office, leaned a bit closer, and whispered, "Last time I passed by the boss' office, I heard they just greenlighted another half dozen Stardust Dragon support cards. How many have we published for Atlas' ace monster, huh? Just one! How do you figure that?"
"I figure you've been drinking too much of the toxic waste that the secretary calls 'coffee.' For crying out loud, they're playing cards, not bombs! We don't have to check their sources – we just make sure they're balanced and get 'em to the printer!"
Tom's eyes lit up. "And about that balance thing–"
Mike held up one hand. "Do not give me your 'Joe had to smuggle twenty Speed Spells and overpowered trap cards into the Satellite' theory again. I do not want to hear it."
Silence stretched between the two men.
Mike sighed and said, "Honestly, do you really think these cards are designed by conspiracy?"
/ / /
Multiple years ago
At the heart of a California high-rise office, Mr. Crocketts stood guard outside a pair of locked double doors. In the room behind him, everything remained calm. He had prepared the room well.
Someone knocked on that room's door.
He sighed and called, "It unlocks from your side, sir."
Someone fumbled with the latch, and the door cracked open. Clouds of smoke and strums of guitar music wafted out into the hallway, and Pegasus J. Crawford staggered out the door. Clad in a paint-stained smock, he leaned towards his head of security. "Crocketts, I have seen... wow, I have seen the future. I have received a vision... from a world of genius." He reached back into the room, fumbling with several heavy and unwieldy objects, finally bringing out a stack of painted canvases. "This is the future here."
Crocketts loaded the canvases onto a waiting cart. "Yes, sir. How long should these stay in cold storage?"
Pegasus smiled. "Hmm?"
"Storage, sir. How long should we wait to make the cards?"
"Oh, that... Oh, you'll know when." He started giggling. "That's not just the future, that's... that's two futures!"
"Understood, sir. I'll store them immediately." He began wheeling the cart away.
Pegasus called after him, "Oh, and I need another two... no, three bags of potato chips!"
/ / /
Tom stood without speaking, his shoulders sagging as his anxiety gave way to exhausted non-protest. "...I guess you're right."
"Don't worry about it," Mike waved. "Just don't take this industry too seriously – you'll last longer." He returned to his mail, then looked back up. "Hey, you want to check out that new ramen place for lunch?"
Tom slumped into his chair and cleared his computer screen. "Yes. Thank you. That'd be nice."