NO POVs WILL BE STATED.

I'm working on characterization, so just bear with me while I play with my story.

As always, thank you for reading beloved readers!

~AxJfan

Disclaimer: I do not own 5ds, but I do own my twisted imagination and sick, ironic sense of humor. Isn't it grand?

Interlude

First Person POV

In the end, there was no light.

I died in the last haven of the sun, and now where there should have been millions of galaxies unfolding at my fingertips, stars and nebulas and the deepest desires of my soul—there were only storms. No warm smiles, welcoming hands, sparkling eyes, snarling teeth, curved claws, or waves of fire greeted or led me to eternal rest or damnation. No Godly voice offered advice or Satanic cackle taunted victory.

The only sounds were the crashes of thunder and the sobs of rain. Like a hideous, polluted whirlpool, clouds and dust swirled around me, concealing the edges of buildings and streets, alike, leaving the sole heir of chaos to reign free beside my lost soul. And in the eye of it all, he laughed, cackled with the storm, the din masking his tears.

Coated in my blood, cleansed by the downpour, his face upturned, he held his arms outwards, embracing all that was sick and cruel in the world, sheltering the worst of it deep within his heart.

My lips twitched into a pained smile at the sight of him, shattered like the mirror and bodies beside him where he had once stood so tall beyond the rest of us. Even now in this psychotic, self-loathing fit of chained freedom, with the rain on his face and his features alight, he was something different, he was still the leader that had saved us.

I whispered his name, and it was left unheard, swallowed by his hurricane.

But it seemed that God had heard me. He was alive, my comrade, my brother, my precious person, and I had found him—found him, and tried to save him. Even if I had failed him once and for all in that, at least I could overlook him and the other two I had left behind. Maybe he could wake up on his own. Maybe it would not be for nothing.

But the rain kept washing him clean, leaving the blood on his cheeks to run down the drains, leaving him weeping in laughter. I watched and wept myself four our twisted, sick salvation, watched and cursed the name that had brought it upon us.

It was all I could do.

Chapter 2:

Salvation

Third Person POV

"It will not be for nothing."

A head twisted upwards, snarling like a wounded beast, eyes narrowed and bright. He looked down at the man kneeling before him, twisting the wrench in his hands slowly between his fingers before dropping it to the floor, where it came to a rest amid piles of gears. The wind kicked at his long white robe and sent it billowing around his feet, gray in the torrents of rain and salty ocean gusts.

White lightning flashed, illuminating the shadows of three still figures bearing the wicked surges together. Two stood across from one bent at the knees as if in prayer, and the later quickly rose to his full height, glaring at the other two.

Something about them was familiar, but he couldn't quite place it.

"This is what you were created to do. God has Chosen us three, and we must fulfill his will."

The addressed' gaze sharpened into reflexive confusion, but his shoulders and fists did not relax. Walls of dirt and discord crash between them, soiling their skin and robes before being pelted away by the downpour, a viscous cycle that relished his silence.

Finally, he could bear it no more, "God's will?"

The few remaining windows rattled under the threat of the gales, trembling in fear and anticipation. If there had been any humans left outside in this newly created hell, any sane souls for that matter, they certainly would have sought shelter.

Only three remained.

"Yes. There is something terrible that happens in the future, and the God of Destiny has willed us to gather three and prevent it. In order to do that, we must approach His Throne, and the only way to do so is through completing the Circuit."

That word—that was familiar. He had heard it many times before; he knew it down to his trembling core. But these two didn't need to know it yet. "The Circuit?"

Three sharp cackles accompanied the end of that question, and he whirled at the familiar taunt, eyes narrowed. "You really don't know anything, do you?"

Thunder rolled above them as the smallest snickered, rolling a metal plate between his hands in obvious glee. He kicked at a piece of loose shrapnel on the ground and repeated his joy, louder this time, "To think you screwed up so badly that we have to bail you out! You really should be our lowest member!"

Thunder's partner finally made its appearance, crashing down beside them, drawn by the discarded metal and cracked headlights of a defeated enemy. Fire exploded onto the slick of spilled oil beside them, charring the remains of a vaguely familiar face sprawled on the floor. Hateful recognition flickered through his dark eyes and stance at the sight, and he turned back towards the others, knowing on some level that he had at least vanquished one enemy tonight.

"I did what I had to. I couldn't wait any longer."

"Hee-hee-hee! Is that what you think now?" the other replied, his young green eyes alight in the flames. The glare of the obvious leader silenced him, and he sulked with a sneer, kicking at the tools granted mercy by the storm. The rebuilt and remade's eyes followed his movements, searing to find their significance, detesting that the clouds in his mind prevented him from finding it.

Flooded and burning, the fire spat between them.

Seeing this, the leader continued, "You have been gifted by God to save the future—to save mankind. Their evolution"—the individual's fists trembled, he knew of the poison of that, knew it personally and visciously—"is leading towards the destruction of the world."

His rage relaxed the others, and the younger commented with his usual cryptic sort of flair, "I guess you're pretty much the same after all."

He laughed. Thunder crashed. Lighting screamed.

Using the pause to his advantage, the leader frowned, observing the young man before him, awed by the same hate and force resonating from deep within, even if he lacked the exact memories to back them. Running his gaze up and down the convulsing man before him, he accepted the wise-crack of his annoying partner, agreeing that indeed, he was the same. Eyes betraying the calm smirk behind his face plate, he turned his sharp gray eyes towards the warring heavens, speaking softly, "I see you understand that much."

Ignoring the confused glance the other two shot upwards, the eldest continued, "God has given us a mission, and that is to find Him. As I said before, we must complete the Circuit to do that. And it must be done around this city." Speaking with such cool serenity, it was easy to recapture the other's attention, and the words themselves were smoother still, slipping easily through the cracks in his armor, caressing the tender, vulnerable parts of his being still in need of repair.

His eyes flickered wider before glancing before him, past the dead city street, into the cataclysmic waves swallowing the coastlines. In his chest, what still remained of his heart shuddered in thunder-struck anticipation, reacting to those miraculous, healing words, "The Daedalus Bridge."

"Hee-hee-hee! He's finally getting it!" Where the other found it all inspiring and frozen in stone, this one saw it all as one huge cosmic joke, enough to easily boil the blood of the two withstanding the explanation together. The three exchanged glares, already establishing ties between them, ties that they would all too eagerly shed once their duties were complete. The man continued, "By completing the Circuit, this city has to be destroyed."

His breath caught. His hands shook. The fire burned amidst the downpour.

The largest noticed and pressed on, enticing, "Do you see? Do you understand what you have been willed to do? Can you wield that power—the gift that will allow us to understand God's will?"

The words served as a heavy restart, a jolt that his foggy mind need, a flip of the switch that had all of his memories and actions rolling out before him, making connections and conclusions that had eluded him moments before. Any lesser man—any human for that matter—would be floored, would have to sit down, lose consciousness, or lose a part of themselves that would never come back. But he had started with nothing to lose, and thus he gained something from all this, something that had been eluding him from the moment he opened his eyes to this new, gray world: Understanding.

A single, bitter noise escaped him, "I see, I see his will."

The elder nodded, his long beard leaving huge watermarks down his cloak. His one visible eye smoldered with a bizarre kind of contentedness, and he said, "I am José, the leader of the Three Emperors of Yliaster. Luciano is next. Do you know yourself now?"

Wind shattered a window to their right, the only sound that passed between them as the new rights were played out. Luciano passed the plate in his hand over to the self appointed leader with a pouting sneer, overlooking the casual destruction around him. With these actions, he knew everything and nothing. He saw what he must do.

"I do."

"And do you accept this?"

There was no hesitation, "Yes."

With a steady grip, he held out the shard between them, the rain tracing the mark of infinity, of God, washing it clean of grime and muck. It shone like precious silver in the weak light of the flames. "Then take your throne. Take it, and repent your hasty actions."

Their hands clasped over the metal.

As José beckoned him back towards shelter, offering him the lost sword to open a portal, Luciano approached the sizzling embers and ash, nudging the scalding remains with his blacked foot. He took in the charred remains of the other that had somehow cheated his way into God's will, eyes sharp and well practiced. Very little remained to look at, none of it al all recognizable. His perpetual amusement grew into mirth. "Then they'll still cling onto Yusei's hope."

His mirth grew into laughter. "It's surprising how powerful the death of a star can be, eh Placido?"

No one answered, and he departed with his companions, out of the rain, and into the shelter of their out-of-place throne room, where they could watch and plot and complete the Circuit that had been protected tonight, where they could strengthen themselves now that the enemy was certainly dead.

The fire burned out behind them.

So did this experiment work out? Likes? Dislikes?

On an unrelated note, I love Luciano, his laugh makes me laugh!

Thanks for reading and I appreciate any feedback,

~AxJfan