Disclaimer: I do not own anything Yu-Gi-Oh GX related.

Ripples of black acid jealousy had seared through Aster Phoenix's gut when he had first dueled Jaden Yuki. Unbidden, his own words had floated through his mind; echoed within his ears.

"You think this is a game?"

As Aster's gaze had lingered on the prone unconscious body of his once bitter rival, the prematurely gray-haired boy had caught the faint impression that somewhere along the line of being taken over by all-consuming darkness with the lives of his friends literally up in the air--yeah—Jaden had finally gotten it. Life was like that sometimes.

As he had watched that face, a vein had twitched in Jaden's forehead while his closed eyelids spasmed. He had been both physically and mentally overwrought. Unbeknownst to him, Aster had full well known the feeling. At that moment, the teenaged boy had been the total opposite of the exuberant youth whom had so innocently strutted his Elemental Heroes off of a simulated darkened skyscraper field spell.

What an eternity ago that was.

But, oh, how Aster had envied him back then. Dueling for fun? Friends? How dare he had been so damned…happy?

But, to be fair, how could one even begin to explain sunny days and star-bright nights of bliss and irresponsibility that often accompanied peer socialization?

One of the first things that had been taught to Aster was discipline. Discipline that had driven Aster from when he had first awoken at sunrise to sometimes as late as moonrise. Pro studies. Dueling styles. Dueling techniques. Normal studies such as History. Foreign Languages. (For the record, his favorite subject.) Mathematics. Very little time for socialization. Not so much as sharing a milkshake after school or one night of movie-watching, popcorn-munching, and armrest-lingering.

A wasted life in some individuals' opinions.

His only constant ally had been endurance. Endurance that had kept him standing when he was at the point of exhaustion. Endurance that had willed him to keep his eyes open when the words in his textbook were near blurred from lack of sleep. Endurance that had been marked into his very palms when he had once clenched his hands so tight that his own fingernails had sunk into them in a fit of rebellious rage. Rebellious rage that never seemed to matter in the end.

Now, that same hand had hastily smoothed away a stray strand of brunette hair from Jaden's overheated brow. It was one thing to unknowingly destroy yourself but to have it forced upon you was just wrong. Sickening. A pang of sympathy had then bloomed in his chest for the broken, lost, little boy.

Deep down, he knew he wasn't quite as arrogant he'd been or quite as rigid and as unyielding as the hands on a clock face. He'd become more compassionate despite it all. Better acquainted with human nature itself.

As the most capable person at the present place and time; he had taken over the responsibility of watching over the fallen hero. His discipline demanded it after all. The pain and heartbreak of loss he himself had experienced that had punctured the very core of his being also demanded his service.

Patiently, he had waited until Jaden opened his eyes. Easily, Aster had bestowed a reassuring smile on him as the boy's wide eyes grew wider when he saw who exactly had been his guardian. Had he been surprised? Amazed? Or merely dazed that something familiar was looking back at him after the unending nightmare he himself had just endured?

How vulnerable Jaden had been earlier under that tree—arms wound so tightly around himself as if he was concerned his entire being would simply fly away into the unforgiving wind if not properly supported by something real and solid. Identifying with the despair he himself had never been allowed to properly show; Aster had laid his hands on Jaden's shoulders and had felt them shake with uncontrolled fright under the pads of his fingertips.

In that instant, they had been connected. By grief. As fate would turn out, they would soon be connected by a lot more.

In that primordial cave that shed no light, Aster had stared right into the face of Evil. The dark green of his cape framed his bronzed arms. His deep russet hair stood sharp as blood-stained daggers. This student was nothing more than a stone-cold murderer with a callous yet ambitious gleam in his eye as he prepared to embrace what he so thought he deserved.

Weakened and literally swaying on his feet, Jaden could have been of no use. And what's more, he shouldn't have been expected to. Once more, Aster's always available endurance had been put to the test—perhaps to the ultimate test. His discipline had required it after all. There would've been no possible way of backing out of this confrontation lest he had dared to cast a blind eye to his own values.

Plus, the situation had just really pissed him off. Traitors didn't deserve to exist.

Suspecting his fate even at the very beginning phases that this would be no easy fight to win; Aster had once again foolhardily stepped into the role of a hero. To say that the odds had been stacked against him were laughable. No. The odds had been literally suffocating.

He had never witnessed the five pieces of Exodia being used first-hand in a duel, especially against him. They were legendary of course and enough to cause any duelist's blood curdle. When all five pieces were assembled, it could only mean one thing: an imminent loss. And in this case, it would mean the loss of his life. Strange what he had mused at the time.

This could be Jaden right now.

But, Jaden couldn't die. No. Not after what he'd been through. Jaden Yuki possessed the endurance, but did not possess the discipline.

And, the treacherous Adrian had really needed a tough bastard right then.

Even when it had become far too readily apparent that the duel was lost, it truly hadn't dawned on Aster right away. However, the twist of Adrian's thin mocking lips had pushed Aster into an entire new threshold of anger. Aster had played the game and lost. His life had just been shortened to under a minute. Like a tiny microbe.

Throwing his arms out in a convincing parody of an angel; he had protected them all. The fallen hero, Jaden. The cowardly Crowler. The ambiguous Truesdale brothers. He had lost, but he would not let everyone be lost.

Out of sheer defiance and perhaps a shred of desperation; (Aster was human after all.) Aster sent out one final attack to counter the blinding white light that had engulfed him all too soon.

He was dead now. That much was certain. He was currently in a place that contained no darkness and no light. In a place where it was as hot as a furnace and as cold as a freezer—all at the same time. A place where there was no rest, no solace, and no love. Where agony and anguish were prominent and involuntary screams pierced the air.

It was…hell.

Here, his endurance did not matter. Whether the most resilient warrior or the most submissive weakling, all fates were identical. Chazz, Tyranno, Alexis, and her brother Atticus were all present in this dimension. Good people. Aster's own goodness and disciplined "never say die" approach to self-sacrifice had landed him here as well—making the foundation of his concept of justice wobble just a little bit more. Again, here, justice didn't matter.

Before all reason abandoned him completely, he comforted himself with one last notion.

I did the best I possibly could ever do. I endured until I could endure no more.

Now, it would be up to another hero to save him and to save them all…

Author's Note: This is what happens when I think far too much on a topic. Psychological undertones are a personal favorite of mine. My main muse for this was Aster's sacrifice.