The Golden Apples
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Chapter One: Gyakuten no Megami
Far above the sight of man, hidden by the cloud cover of Olympus, the three in question look down towards the new chosen.
"A man with an interesting past," one murmured. "This one has known pain, and suffering, and yet looks ever forward. Doubtless he shall know true beauty when he sees it."
"A warrior, one who fights to defend," the second mused. "Indeed, the apple chooses well enough."
"So the both of you think," the third said. "When all is said and done, nothing will have changed. I am, and still will, be."
"Then each shall appear, and the judge shall choose. So mote it be," all three recited simultaneously.
With a final roar, the engine of the Yusei Go died as its rider swung one leg down from it, dismounting neatly with the ease of long practice. A few passers-by gave him looks, some of recognition and some of amazement, but Neo Domino City was such that the Riding Duel King entered the Tops district with little trouble.
Being friends with the rich twins Rua and Ruka, money was not much of a intimidating thing to Yusei. The fact, however, that there were people who lived even better than the twins was saying something for the awe he currently felt before the foyer of the building. The clean design of the outside clearly hid the sumptuous clean Grecian influence of the foyer, an entrance to clearly earmark this place as one with money, and serious old money at that, with everything to snub everyone like you are poor and common and know your place and when was the last time you shaved, boy?
It was amazing, how much snobbery one building could manage to give off. At least to him.
The curious bellhop's expression cleared as Yusei produced the card he had been issued along with the summons, to place it crudely. The interior was much more understated than the foyer, which made up for it somewhat, even as the Duellist shivered from the curious eyes upon him.
On his arm and back, something burned.
The elevator was a masterpiece of machinery, he found as he appeared at the top floor of what must be a building over three hundred feet above sea level, and then he decided one thing:
I wish I've told Crow where I was going... I think I'm in over my head.
Someone had taken out the interior of the entire top floor, and moved in its place a huge garden that was definitely not indigenous to the Japanese geography. There was actual sunlight, and birdsong, and everything trite and forest-like and wrong. Yusei heard laughter, clear and ringing like bells, but of such clear pitch as to be humanly impossible.
"You are here, then," he heard the voice. The voice was comforting and mellow, like what he supposed a mother's would be, and yet something held him in his place.
On his arm, the mark burned red.
Very, very slowly, he turned around to look at her.
There must have been a good reason, he told himself, for Zeus's infidelity. There must have been something the king of the gods had seen, something ugly of the soul that caused him to seek others. There must have been something, anything at all, that did not make this beauty the apple of the god's eye, so he told himself. Otherwise he would have had very good reason to question the god's judgement.
Fudo Yusei would have had better luck convincing himself to surrender a Duel.
She was the kind of beauty that artists prayed and partied like Mardi Gras had come early to find on this earth, a mother-saviour that shone with some light that he could not identify with. The classical chiton complimented her well, along with the simple diadem she wore. Beauty like such needed no additions, and here was an example of why.
"You are the apple's holder," she murmured, in a voice so soft Yusei caught himself before he could lean forward. "Do you know who am I?"
"Er..." he pushed a not-inconsiderable will towards the intellect. "...Mrs Basíleia? I was called here about..." he stopped. "I can't remember."
"Here, is the highest point of the city," she murmured, taking a slow step back, her feet making little noise on the soft grass. "Walk with me."
He followed, albeit reluctantly, as his arm burned and his back continue to glow with the dragon's mark. They moved past trees and orchards bearing fruit, to a single large pool of clear water the likes of which could not be seen ever. In the waters, amidst the undulating ripples, were...
Yusei blinked. "Neo Domino City!"
"The city which you were born in," she intoned as the sights of Neo Domino in their cleanly aesthetic beauty occupied. "The city which deserted you once, but you never left it. The city which you unite and shall continue to do so, the city which at the focal point of so many destinies continue to elude you. And more."
The ripples changed again, the colours shifting to outline the sights of various capitals, a heavy bell tools, the spire of a slender building against the sunset, the night outlining so many more sights of human architectural and aesthetic beauty that Yusei's eyes remained wide.
"All these, for you," she murmured, leaning closer to him with every smooth, graceful step. "The centres of powers, within the palm of your hand, truly you shall stand at the top."
"I... this..." There were no words that could accurately describe what the Signer felt at the moment.
"And all you have to do," she whispered, leaning ever closer to his ear. "Is. Give. Me. The. Apple."
The mark of the Crimson Dragon burst with red light, and she cried out as the light struck her. At the same time, Yusei woke from his stupor as the entire formation of the Legendary Signer burned on his back past the blue jacket he wore.
"How dare you!" she screamed, no longer the serene goddess but a vengeful one.
Yusei, stunned, immediately ran for what he perceived as the nearest exit: the pool. She shrieked again, but what exactly he never quite heard as he leapt into the pool–
–breaking the water surface in a blaze of red light to realise that he was now about three hundred feet above sea level and with nothing between the Signer and what was now looking to be cold, hard and unforgiving ground.
Goodbye, cruel world?
Gravity took over, and there was something to be said for Yusei's state of mind that he just sighed, closed his eyes, and dived ever faster downwards.
Diana landed on her feet as she arrived at the cave, grimacing at what she was about to do. "I'm in," she spoke into the comm-piece.
"Good," Batman's gravelly tone muttered. "Ask the Fates what exactly is up with the apple."
"Ah, the princess comes to us," one voice, high and cold, rang through the gloomy confines.
"Upon the orders of the dark knight," another chuckles.
There was an ominous silence. "Ow!" a third voice yelped. "My ribs! Oh. Ah, what a paradox might this be."
"Moirai," Diana spoke clearly, formally, her cadence that of the Greek scholar. "I seek to ask the purpose of the apple's destiny."
"The apple of Discord," Clotho, she who wove the threads of the tapestry, uttered. "It is a mere tool of us, and think no more of it, for we are–"
"–the Fates," all three spoke as one.
"Ask away, then, little Amazon," Lachesis, she who measured the length of the threads of life, echoed.
"But three questions you may ask of fate, and no more," Atropos, the holder of the shears that cut the threads from the tapestry, spoke, her voice holding an edge.
Diana would have proceeded to ask her own question, but Batman intervened. "Ask why Yusei Fudo."
She stopped. That was... a very good question.
"Why Yusei Fudo?"
It was silent. Too silent. Diana was about to give up on any answer when Clotho gently coughed. Lachesis followed soon after, and Atropos the last, before they broke out into song:
In a world where Fate rule supreme,
there lies the trios of threes.
One of the already, one that will,
and the last, of the yet to will.
Each decrees are absolute,
each cannot be defied,
yet the gods do like the try
to deviate from our guide.
They are the beings who serve us,
and that in turn we serve.
Sometimes, it is even we
who serf instead of served.
There was silence.
"The boy's destiny is strong," Lachesis said after a moment. "So strong that it hides all others."
"The tapestry is yet to be woven," Clotho added.
"It cannot be seen." Atropos finally said after a long protracted silence. "Some higher power interferes, as they do with the dark knight."
"The Fates cannot see his fate?" Diana slowly repeated.
"We can," Clotho impatiently repeated. "The beginning of it, and certainly the end of it, but not the interim. Not this time. Contrary to mortal belief, Amazon, we only fix the major points of mortality. We don't fix how they go. He can go right, as he'd always done, or he can go left. What's that word used again...oi, what's the word for when there's nothing to describe it?"
"Mysterious?" Atropos suggested. "Transcendent?"
"When in doubt," Lachesis said with all her authority, "go with the established."
"Ineffable." all three goddesses of fate agreed, completely forgetting about Diana there.
The Crimson Dragon itself, a red mass of eldritch power and gaping maw, caught Yusei in its jaws as he fell.
The majestic beast flew quickly into a dive, only pulling out in time for an unharmed Yusei to drop from the folds of power straight into the saddle of the Yusei Go. The man of the hour himself sat there, stunned.
"The things that happen," he sighed, starting the bike up.
As he drove off, another motorcycle followed behind him.
Basíleia is an epithet for Hera.
By the way, the poem is not meant to be deciphered. It'll just screw around with the mind until one gives up.
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