My Dark King

by Masterdramon

In a world where Dark Signer Carly succeeded in turning Jack to her side, the remaining Signers are left bereft and hopelessness descends. Earth's only chance for survival lies in the love that the Dark King and Queen share; a love that has survived even death.

11. Rebellion

My Dark King – Chapter 11: Rebellion

Disclaimer: In case you haven't figured it out yet, I don't own Yu-Gi-Oh! 5D's. All Yu-Gi-Oh!-related characters, settings, etc. are the intellectual property of Kazuki Takahashi.

[-]

Jinbei Tanigawa sighed deeply as he stared off at the smoldering ruin that, so very recently, had been the gleaming metropolis of Neo Domino City.

For a low-class, country rube such as himself, Neo Domino represented the possibility of a genuine utopia…or at least, Jinbei needed to believe that. If only so that he could have something outside of this irrepressibly dreary life to aspire to.

But now that shining beacon of limitless possibility had been reduced to cinders – by what, Jinbei couldn't even fathom – and the tiny shreds of hope that Taro's recent acquisition of a D-Wheel had awakened within their hearts had been crushed into fine powder, never to return.

What, after all, was the point in going through all that effort – when the Heaven they'd dreamt of all their lives had descended into Hell?

"Err…Jinbei?" rang out the unmistakable voice of Taro Yamashita, cutting short the blue-haired teenager's depressed musings. "I think you'd better come in and take a look at this!"

Irritably, Jinbei rose from his position and entered Taro's shed, only to find the brunette listening rapturously to an accented voice being emitted by the Duel Disk attached to their wreck of a D-Wheel.

"…bring as many nonperishables or other such items as you can to bolster our stores. Good luck to all of you, and godspeed," the voice announced gravely, before looping back to the beginning of the message.

Jinbei listened for a moment to this "Jean" as he issued a call for revolution against whatever had devastated Neo Domino, staring at Taro with wide eyes as he did.

"You're not seriously considering…" said Jinbei, but Taro cut across him.

"Of course I am. We were talking about going to the city pretty soon anyway," Taro replied calmly.

"But…just look, dammit!" Jinbei shouted, gesturing to the burning carcass of Neo Domino that lay past their window. "The city's dead! It's all gone…there's no point now!"

Taro just placed a hand on his friend's shoulder.

"And that precisely is the point," he declared. "Think about how many people must be suffering there. And what are we doing in the meantime, huh? Milking fucking cows and laying fucking fertilizer. We may just be a ragtag team of farmboys…but that shouldn't prevent us from doing what's right."

"But what can we do?" demanded Jinbei, his expression uncertain. "We've got one D-Wheel that looks like it could fall apart at any moment, as well as three of the absolute worst decks in history. No revolution on Earth could actually want us."

"Y'know, Jinbei…you worry too much," said Taro, chuckling. "Look, I know we're probably not the ideal freedom fighters, but something tells me these Team Unicorn guys are gonna need all the help they can get. And you're forgetting the one big advantage we still have up our sleeves…Zushin, the Common Man's God."

At this, Taro fished the djinn-like monster out of his pocket, holding it up triumphantly as if to say that Duel Monsters' ultimate long-shot would be more than enough to handle whatever the hell it was that'd rent Neo Domino asunder.

Jinbei opened his mouth to utter another objection, but stopped as he stared intently at the creature before him. There was a glint in the massive giant's crimson eyes that the blue-haired youth had never noticed before – one that seemed almost to be…egging them on.

"Alright…alright, fine. I'll go get Yoshizo," Jinbei responded after a lengthy silence, his mind now set…even if he really couldn't be quite sure how. "Gather up whatever food we can fit into the sidecar, and swap that seat for one that can fit all three of us while you're at it."

Smiling at his pessimistic friend's abrupt change of heart, Taro pocketed their boss monster and bumped fists with Jinbei to seal the plan, before getting to work on the tasks he'd been delegated with intense fervor.

And simultaneously, somewhere deep within the heart of the Duel Monsters Spirit World, the true essence of Zushin smiled with pride. He was far too minor of a God to interfere with this situation directly, as the Akaki Ryu or the Polar Gods could…but He would lend His power nevertheless, if these courageous mortals chose to call upon Him.

As a spirit, that was both His honor and His duty.

[-]

The palace of the Dark King and Queen was rather untraditional in its structure; rather than being subdivided into strict, linear floors or levels, the various wings of the fortress all converged upon a single point, resembling nothing if not a massive spider web.

And located at the center of that network was the royal couple's magnificent throne room, an enormous atrium through which the monarchs could greet their subjects as necessary.

Of course, given that the vast majority of their subjects were soulless wraiths, Jack Atlas was understandably confused that someone was now requesting an audience with him – particularly so soon after the instigation of their reign.

In dignified silence the pair proceeded swiftly down a corridor and into the chamber, taking their seats upon ornate thrones and motioning in unison to the undead guards to usher in their visitors. With a massive effort, the fifty-foot-tall granite doors were parted, allowing three men to hustle cautiously into the foyer.

Jack motioned for the men to proceed further, so that he might observe them more closely.

What he saw was somewhat remarkable…if only for its utter lack of remarkableness. The person at the forefront of the party was a portly man with enormous ears and a strangely pointed mustache, who was nervously adjusting his atrocious yellow suit in an apparent attempt to make a good impression.

At his side were two entirely forgettable guards, bedecked in broad black suits and standing as still as possible in support of their boss. Having expected something relating to his earlier missive regarding the Signers – perhaps even Yusei himself, ready to challenge him – the Dark King couldn't help but feel distinctly underwhelmed.

Jack was just about to ask the visitor (who, at the very least, had the good sense not to speak until spoken to) for his name, when Carly interjected.

"You are Matsuki Garome, also known as the Dark Money Trader – a lowlife loan shark with minor Yakuza connections," she said, her tone making it clear that she did not consider this to be a very good recommendation. "And what exactly is your business here? We assure you, we are not interested in signing fraudulent documents or purchasing loans with ridiculous interest rates. So we kindly suggest that you vacate our palace immediately, before we conclude that your continued presence on this Earth is decidedly…undeserved."

Garome back up a step, wringing his hands and putting on an unctuous smile as he replied, "First, let me just state that it is an honor to be in your presence, my esteemed Lord and Lady. And while I am certain that you have no need of my monetary services, I do believe that I can still be of significant use to you both."

"How so?" demanded Carly.

"I have information that I think you will find very interesting, ma'am," Garome stated carefully.

When neither monarch responded, the pudgy gangster swallowed hard and continued, "In the course of some…err…undercover work last night, I overheard a rather intriguing conversation at the Public Security Maintenance Bureau. So when the city began to fall to pieces, I immediately chartered a ferry over to what appeared to be the source…in order to offer you a bargain."

"And now we come to the crux of the matter," said Jack, shaking his head irritably. While he'd clearly heard far less of this man than Carly had (guessing that the significant disparity between their finances prior to becoming Dark Signers probably had a lot to do with it), he was liking him less and less with every word he spoke. "If you wish to strike a deal, then come out with it already. Do not waste our valuable time with meaningless blather."

"Of course sir, of course!" Garome exclaimed, his hands raised in the appearance of apology. "If it pleases your Lordship, then I shall cut right to the chase. In return for providing you with this vital information, I ask only for you to leave myself and my operations alone in this period of…reconstruction. Let it be known that I have absolutely nothing against your most venerated rule – indeed, I welcome it! – but all of this chaos hasn't been very good for business."

Jack's brow furrowed in contemplation for a moment before responding, "We shall listen to this…supposedly valuable information. If it pleases us, then we shall at least consider bestowing on you the reward that you have requested."

Garome's expression darkened at this rather significant departure from his original terms, and as the portly man adopted an enraged scowl and raised his finger in affront, the Dark King could tell that he was now staring at the real Matsuki Garome.

"Now see here!" he shouted, his entire sycophantic pretense dropping instantly. "You may be playing at being king here, but no one talks that way to Matsuki Garome! No one!"

The crime boss gestured wordlessly to the men behind him, who drew and trained their guns on the royal couple with professional precision.

Jack did not appear particularly concerned, however…mostly, because he'd mentally commanded two of his wraiths to approach the visitors from behind the moment that Garome had mentioned a deal.

"Kill the spares," he ordered calmly.

At these words, each living corpse grasped the head of one of the bodyguards and twisted, their agonizing screams filling the atrium in the second before they collapsed. In that moment, however, one of the suits managed to fire off a single shot…one which met its mark perfectly, directly in the center of Carly's forehead.

An animalistic roar erupted from Dark King's throat as his wife slumped limply in her throne, even as their mental connection informed him that Aslla piscu was already in the process of healing the wound.

But a white hot rage was rapidly filling every fiber of his being – a rage that, he realized belatedly, had a voice of its own.

I can sense it, My host. You wish to punish this ridiculous mortal for his slight upon your Dark Queen. And I have no issue with that. But…Death is not the only method of retribution available to you.

"What do you mean?" Jack muttered to the ancient condor that lay deep within his mind, causing Garome to stare at him in fear and bewilderment.

The pudgy loan shark had remained frozen in place following the gunshot, apparently too shocked to do the logical thing and run the hell away from there.

You shall see. Now, step aside…and let Me work.

Accordingly, Jack yielded a greater portion of his mind to Wiraqocha Rasca, and a moment later he was gone completely.

The spiritual energy locked within his heart of darkness exploded throughout his deathly cold form. Veins and arteries bulged as they filled to the brim with violet plasma, within which the condor Jibakushin's spirit flowed freely, exerting total control over the unliving shell in which it dwelled.

This was the first time that the God had ever taken over a host directly, and it took a moment for it to figure out the precise mental processes necessary to manipulate the Dark King's body.

But it did not take too long for Wiraqocha Rasca to do so, and so a moment later a sadistic smile spread across Jack's face as the condor forced apart his eyelids, revealing empty pools of endless, free-flowing darkness.

"Pathetic fool," Wiraqocha Rasca hissed, Jack's voice taking on an eerie echoing quality as the Jibakushin roughly worked his vocal chords. "You have dared to desecrate the flesh of a chosen avatar of the Underworld. The seething fury that courses through My host's veins at this egregious act shall not be abated, until due vengeance is exacted upon you. But…how to do it?"

The condor tapped Jack's pointer finger against his chin, a gesture it had observed in its previous host during countless moments of contemplation. Meanwhile, Garome's mind was already hurtling into overdrive, trying to imagine just what sorts of excruciating punishments the Dark King might have in store for him.

Finally, Jack's cruel smirk widened further, and Garome recoiled in horror as Wiraqocha Rasca whispered, "Hold him."

It was an order that the murderous ghouls immediately followed. The possessed Dark Signer then brought his right wing to his palm and plucked a feather from its tip, which he held aloft as he slowly approached the defenseless gangster.

The pointed tip of the jet-black plume gleamed in the torchlight as it drew closer and closer to Garome's heavy chest, and he squirmed desperately against the zombies' unyielding grip until, with a single stab directly into his rapidly pounding heart, everything became silent.

[-]

It did not take long for Tetsu Ushio to realize that Mikage hadn't followed him back to Zora's apartment.

It took even less time for the burly Security Officer to set back out again to search for her, cursing himself all the while for letting her out of his sights at a time like this.

True, he had wanted to achieve the effect of a "dramatic storm-off" after their heated argument regarding Jack, hoping that the emotional abruptness might snap some sense into her, but with those weird walking corpses shambling about he realized leaving her alone at all had been enormously foolish.

Praying that she'd merely gotten lost on the way back to their safe house, Ushio began ducking into every dilapidated building and dark alleyway he could find, searching desperately for some sign of the woman he still loved more than anything in the world.

Mikage Sagiri, for her part, was struggling violently against the ropes and heavy cloth gag holding her in place several blocks away, terrified and nauseated by the revolting sight that lay around her.

While her mysterious abductor had knocked her out immediately after capturing her (she wasn't feeling the aftereffects of any kind of injury, so she assumed that her captor had used chloroform or some equivalent), she'd awoken to a room that was almost excruciatingly bright, with lamps and overhead lights of every shape and size ensuring that there wasn't a single patch of darkness within the nondescript chamber.

Unfortunately, this gave Mikage an unobstructed view of her company: no less than a dozen corpses of other young women, propped up in chairs surrounding her and grinning with cold, plastered smiles.

Each specimen was remarkably well-preserved, their dead skin smooth and completely unblemished…with the exception of their eye sockets, each of which were mutilated beyond all recognition.

Staring at the mess of bloody pulp halfway up each cadaver's face made Mikage want to vomit profusely, and the former secretary acknowledged that it was only the minimal amount of actual food she'd ingested over the past forty-eight hours that was preventing her from retching up more than a few mouthfuls of bile.

As the blue-haired woman fought to expel the liquid past the tightly implanted gag, she heard heavy footsteps approaching her position, and though she was unable to turn around she was certain they must belong to her kidnapper. Listening intently for some clue as to who the sadistic individual might be, she heard a gruff, low male voice address her in slow, erratic tones.

"You…from…Darkness," he mumbled, reminding her vividly of a homeless, mentally ill invalid whom she'd encountered sparingly in her youth. "From Darkness…like…others. Darkness…take…everything. So me…take…you…too."

Mikage worked desperately to try and piece together these disjointed ramblings, but her panic reflex rapidly took over as she heard the distinctive sound of a knife being sharpened behind her.

Whoever this insane abductor was, he apparently wasn't a huge fan of the dark…and he'd somehow become convinced that murdering young women and cutting out their eyes was the best way to combat it. Deranged that worldview might be, but her captor was the one with the knife and she was the one strapped to a chair, so she wasn't exactly in a position to point this out.

Mikage Sagiri's eyes widened with dread as the mysterious man grasped her head with one of his massive hands and brought an enormous butcher's knife directly into her line of sight.

Ushio-sama!, she screamed mentally…before hazily wondering, through all of her panic and terror, why she'd suddenly jumped to his name instead of Jack's.

[-]

Since the transport that Sherry had arranged back to Japan apparently wouldn't be ready until sundown, Yusei was spending the day in the Leblanc manor, catching up on the other task his father's spirit had set him: learning more about the human life of the most enigmatic Dark Signer, Carly Nagisa.

This was actually not particularly difficult, mainly because her mother (a farmowner in a rural township adjacent to Neo Domino) had apparently taken her reported death as permanent, and so had already commissioned an obituary – one which was readily available online.

Admittedly, it'd taken several moments for Yusei to figure out how to display Japanese characters on the Leblancs' French computer. But once that small hurdle was cleared, Yusei had little trouble finding out everything he needed to know about the unassuming woman who was now well on her way to conquering the world.

Carly Mayoi Nagisa was born on March 8, 2008. Daughter of farmowners Keisuke and Suzuki Nagisa, Carly was raised on her family's farm and educated in the nearby township of Ayasato.

It was while she attended Ayasato High School that Carly first became interested in her life's passion, journalism. By the age of eight she was well known for always having a camera handy, and in her freshman year she become a stringer for the Ayasato Gazette, helping to revitalize the small-town paper from the brink of cancellation.

These early successes, however, were tempered by tragedy. Throughout much of Carly's childhood, Keisuke Nagisa was waging a losing battle against leukemia, and it was when she was only sixteen that the cancer finally claimed his life.

Carly was, by all accounts, devastated by this loss. Her relationship with her father ran deep, and during the months that followed Carly entered a state of severe depression, one which she never fully recovered from during her high school career.

Following her graduation, Carly resolved to move to Neo Domino City and pursue her career. This abrupt transition from rural to urban life was taxing on both Carly and on her mother; Suzuki Nagisa, by her own admission, disapproved strongly of her daughter's plans to relocate.

But Carly would not be swayed, leaving Ayasato for good in the summer of 2025, and opening up a rift between herself and her mother that, unfortunately, she would never have the opportunity to repair.

Carly eventually secured a freelance position with the Neo Domino Bulletin, covering street-level duels and the occasional local tournament for the paper's "Sports and Leisure" section.

Little else is known about Carly's life in Neo Domino, however. Those who knew her regularly describe her as a simple, career-minded young woman who disliked the limelight, preferring to report on events from the sidelines rather than actively participating in them.

Carly would go on to write over a hundred published articles over the next three years, many of which went above and beyond the parameters of her assignments. Her breakthrough exposé on a ring of D-Wheel thieves resulted in the outing of their inside man, a Security Officer by the name of Syd Wilkes, in a move that firmly established her career as one of controversy.

Carly's last published article was a detailed spread about the participants in the recent Fortune Cup, and is credited as one of the few pieces in existence containing information about the tournament's dark horse champion, Yusei Fudo.

Just over one month ago, a massive fire in Neo Domino's business district leveled five city blocks and resulted in numerous casualties and missing person reports. Carly's name was present on one such list.

The Public Security Maintenance Bureau was soon informed by an anonymous tipster who went by the alias "Figurine" that Carly had most likely been investigating the Arcadia Building – which was located near the center of the affected area – at the time of the conflagration.

As the building was reduced to smoldering ruins by the end of the night, no body was recovered. However, this information proved sufficient for Security to declare Carly legally dead. She was twenty years old at the time of her passing.

Carly Nagisa leaves behind no kin apart from her mother, who wholeheartedly requests that she be contacted should any additional information about her daughter's present state be uncovered."

The article also provided a smiling picture of Carly herself, at what appeared to be her high school graduation. Yusei had to admit that she'd been rather beautiful, in her own way; her human form possessed a simple, humble elegance that the Signer leader found appealing.

It was admirable, really, that the girl could appear this optimistic, even with her father's death still weighing so heavily upon her…or was that jovial smile merely a façade, like the one Kiryu had so often worn to hide the monster life's pain had gestated within him?

Yusei stared deeply into the oversized bifocals that masked the young woman's eyes, and wondered just what dark secrets lay behind them – all the while silently cursing the Jibakushin for twisting such tragedies for their own purposes.

As Yusei continued to focus on the picture, a nagging tug of familiarity flared up within the back of his mind. Without a doubt, he had seen this girl at least once while she was alive, though it took him several moments to recall exactly where.

But then, memories of the first time he'd faced off against the wielder of a dark birthmark came flooding back to him, and it clicked.

She had appeared to him right after he'd defeated Dick Pitt and banished Rudger's darkness from the street duelist's mind, frantically demanding an interview from the "New King" on the spot.

Yusei remembered his first impression of her as being mildly annoying but harmless, and hadn't spared her a second thought since he'd fled from the incoming Security personnel and left her to sort things out.

And yet, his mind was finding it exceedingly difficult to bridge the connection between that unassuming, stripe-shirted journalist and the madwoman who had, by Ushio's account, nearly succeeded at killing Ruka and Rua…

"Image mignonne. Is that your girlfriend?" came a snide voice from behind him, startling Yusei out of his reverie. The Signer leader turned around to see Sherry, now adorned with a casual shirt, leather jacket, and jeans, smirking at him.

"No!" Yusei exclaimed, blushing slightly. Sherry raised an eyebrow, so he elaborated. "This is actually one of the leaders of the forces that've been wreaking havoc on Neo Domino and Satellite. I've been conducting…err…background research on her."

"Never a bad idea to gather intelligence on one's enemies," said Sherry, nodding sagely. "But seriously…her? She doesn't exactly scream Maîtresse de tout le Mal to me."

"That's just because you haven't seen an…updated picture of her," replied Yusei. "Trust me on that one."

Deciding that it might be best to change the subject, he added, "So…what've you been doing for the past few hours?"

Sherry's lip curled. "I was visiting the graves of mes parents," she answered.

Yusei shivered slightly, recalling that this was something of a…sensitive subject with her. "Is that why you were back here in Paris, then?" he asked carefully.

Fortunately, Sherry did not appear to be in an overly antagonistic mood at the moment. "Oui…I return here every year to honor their memories personally," she said. "Other than that, however, I tend to stay away from France as much as possible. Les blessures du passé fester far too greatly here."

"Where do you actually live for most of the year, anyway?" Yusei went on, choosing to take advantage of Sherry's current good spirits.

"I do much travelling, so I'm rarely tied down to a particular location for very long," the blonde duelist told him. "But Mizoguchi and I base most of our operations in Kyoto."

"You bring up this 'Mizoguchi,' person quite often, but you haven't actually told me who he is yet," responded Yusei.

Sherry furrowed her brow and sighed before muttering, "Well, since you'll be meeting with him fairly shortly…I suppose it can't hurt to tell you."

Sherry reached into her pocket and pulled out a wallet, which she flipped open to reveal a photograph of an older, stern-looking Asian gentleman.

"Kenji Mizoguchi was le majordome de ma famille for many years, as well as my personal guard," she said. "On the night that Yliaster's agents came for us, I was spared only because Mizoguchi risked his own life to rescue me from ces salauds. Ever since then, he's treated me like his own daughter – willing to do whatever it takes to assist me in bringing Yliaster to its knees."

Yusei nodded, and Sherry returned the wallet to her pocket, adding, "And on that note…I feel I should inform you that our ride is here. Mizoguchi managed to transport notre hélicoptère far more quickly than I anticipated. So grab your D-Wheel, and meet me at the rear of the estate."

Sherry gave a mocking wave and strode out of the room, no doubt to gather her own supplies for the upcoming journey. Yusei, meanwhile, turned back to the screen and tapped his chin for a moment, before deciding to print the picture of the young Carly.

It certainly couldn't hurt to have on hand as reference, at least.

Slipping the smiling photograph into his jacket pocket, Yusei proceeded to the garage where he'd stashed his D-Wheel, his mind spinning from the thousand different ways this short excursion to France had fucked with his head.

[-]

Andore was going to kill Jean once he got back inside.

Given that refugees were expected to be converging on Always from all across the city, it was only logical that someone be stationed outside to screen any potential "guests."

They were, after all, running a resistance movement – not a charity. Anyone who wasn't willing to pull their own weight wasn't getting into their base, and that was something that could only be determined in person.

But of course Jean had proposed they decide by drawing straws, and of course Andore had picked the shortest one. As he managed to do every single fucking time Jean suggested that little method of divvying out assignments.

The redhead was beginning to wonder whether, perhaps, that wasn't such a coincidence after all…

In any event, however, that explained why Andore Porthos was currently sitting atop a piece of charred rubble, tapping his foot impatiently as he scanned the streets for signs of life.

Andore had, thankfully, already achieved one major success on that front. Less than an hour after the signal has gone out, none other than the famed Senator Hideo Izayoi and his wife had arrived at their fortress, offering to pay their keep in the form of a bulging bag of gold and jewels.

While money was largely a useless commodity in this post-apocalyptic wasteland, Team Unicorn still had a handful of conduits to the outside world, and bartering those treasures with several of their "suppliers" would allow them to expand their limited resources significantly.

Unfortunately, nearly two hours had passed since the Izayois' arrival, and no other inhabitants of the barren city seemed willing to follow suit.

Andore was growing somewhat antsy. Every second he spent outside their base's walls was a second he was risking his life, and while he certainly wouldn't have minded this were he actually accomplishing something, the peril became increasingly unjustifiable as the hours wore on.

Just as the redhead was seriously considering acting on these impulses and returning to the safety of Always, however, a singular figure ducked out of a nearby alleyway and cagily made its way to his position

As the person drew closer, two things about it became eminently clear: one, that the figure was undoubtedly feminine, and two, that she was scared completely out of her wits.

Finally, when the mysterious woman was within speaking distance, she asked timidly, "I…Is this, um, the…the…oh god, I can't even remember the name anymore! I knew I should've paid more attention in English classes! The…um…the…"

At least, these were the only words which Andore could definitely hear; she continued speaking for several more moments, her voice growing progressively weaker until it became utterly inaudible.

The golden-eyed duelist sighed deeply before saying, "This is Always, little miss – the fortress of Team Unicorn. Are you here to join our cause?"

The young girl, who Andore couldn't help but notice was wearing what appeared to be a stereotypical maid's outfit, swallowed and began nodding fiercely.

"My name is…err…Stephanie, sir," she stammered. "Stephanie Bloomsdale. I've come here for…for protection. I mean, my apartment's been destroyed, and I can't get in contact with any of my friends, or my family, or my coworkers…so, um, I've really got nowhere else to go…but if you're, err, full or something, then I guess I could, um, move on and find my own shelter, but…well sir, I dunno where I could really find any now, so…umm…"

"Enough," Andore told her firmly, cutting across her dejected ramblings. First that Leo kid, and now this…was this irritating pattern of speaking some epidemic that was spreading across Japan?

"Look…we've definitely still got the room. Space isn't the issue at all," he continued. "But we're bringing people in here to start up a resistance movement, and…well, no offense, but you're not exactly giving off a 'freedom fighter' vibe. What could you bring to our team if we let you join us?"

To his surprise, the girl immediately straightened up like a board and, of all things, saluted him.

"I will do whatever is asked of me, sir!" Stephanie cried, her voice cracking. "I might not be much of a fighter…but I'll have you know that I've been awarded 'Employee of the Month' at Café la Geen forty-seven months in a row and counting!"

If this had been a Japanese anime, Andore was quite certain there'd be a comically large sweat drop running straight down the side of his face. It was rather difficult not to dismiss the girl simply based on this "accomplishment" alone, and her overall demeanor certainly wasn't helping matters.

Then again, they'd just incorporated a clock repairman into their forces to admittedly tremendous effect, so perhaps it was premature to judge…

"Alright, first of all, quit it with the damn saluting. It's freaking me out," said Andore, and she immediately dropped her arm and relaxed her shoulders. "Now I'm going to assume, based on the fact that you work at a café and your general attire, that you're a waitress."

Stephanie nodded lamely, and the redheaded duelist went on, "Well, I don't think we really have a pressing need for coffee service…but if you can cook decently as well, that might be a different story. I don't think any of us are particularly handy around the stove."

"Well, err…I think that I'm a fairly decent chef, sir," Stephanie answered. "I mean, I'm always the one my manager puts in charge of baking when the regular guy is out sick or something. Although…I wouldn't count out the coffee so quickly if I were you, sir. I can brew a mean Blue-Eyes Mountain."

Out of seemingly nowhere the brunette waitress produced a thermos, presumably containing the aforementioned blend.

Being that he'd been standing out in the biting air for hours and hadn't had a decent meal in over a day, Andore did not particularly feel like he was in a position to refuse a warm beverage. So with a shrug he tipped the edge of the thermos into his mouth, slowly taking a sip of the smooth liquid.

Immediately the duelist's eyes shot open, and as soon as his throat was clear he emphatically declared, "You're hired."

[-]

Several minutes passed before Matsuki Garome returned to consciousness, and he was immediately delighted to behold the flawless visage of his Master. After all, Garome's Master was a wonderful man and an unmatched ruler, a literal God-on-Earth for whom Garome would gladly lay down his life at a moment's notice.

It unnerved him somewhat, however, to witness the disapproving expression upon his Master's otherworldly face. Had he perhaps done something wrong?

"Master, whatever I have done, I beg for your forgiveness," Garome pleaded, prostrating himself fully before his Dark King. "Though I cannot remember what grave error I committed toward your Excellency, I see the disappointment written all across your magnificent features. Please, tell me how I may rectify it."

"You may rise, Garome," said Wiraqocha Rasca, and Garome hastened to do so, his glazed-over eyes never leaving sight of his Master's solidly violet ones. "You were just about to provide Us with the information you overheard at the Public Security Maintenance Bureau."

Garome could've laughed, if he wasn't so concerned about maintaining his professional decorum around his Master – really, how could he have forgotten something so simple?

In any event, however, this was at least a fairly easy mistake to remedy.

"I overheard this during a rather…violent confrontation between Vice Director Jaeger Dokeshi and the Fortune Cup champion," explained Garome in a flat, efficient monotone. "After some prodding, the Vice Director admitted that a card called 'the soul of the Fifth Dragon' is in the hands of a French girl named Sherry Leblanc, who's now on the run. Whatever that card is, the young man seemed extremely determined to find it."

"How very…interesting," the condor replied, Jack's lips curling into a cruel sneer as it did.

The Jibakushin-possessed Dark King stared into space for a few moments before adding, "You have done well to provide Us with this information, Garome. Your service is greatly appreciated."

The loan shark's empty eyes brimmed with tears of joy as he registered this praise, the feather still lodged within his chest pulsing madly with an ethereal violet glow.

"Th…Thank you, Master," he responded, bowing his head in reverence. "If there is any other way for me to serve your beneficence, you have but to request it."

The heavily veined face scrunched up ponderously, before alighting with the air of an idea.

"As a matter of fact, Garome…We have just the task lined up for you," said Wiraqocha Rasca, smiling malevolently. "You may approach Us."

Garome hastened to obey his Master's command, slowly approaching the Dark King with the manner of one beseeching an altar of worship.

The Earthbound God then raised Jack's hand and brought it to the jet-black feather puncturing the crime boss' heart, allowing the pure darkness of the Underworld to flow directly into the quill and lend it a small portion of the Jibakushin's own power.

This was the culmination of an idea Wiraqocha Rasca had been formulating at least since It'd taken up residence within Jack's form. The mindless zombies worked well for drones, but if and when the Signers got involved the condor's host was going to require some elite forces as well, if only to stave off their ever-increasing numbers.

The God has learned Its lesson thoroughly from the catastrophic, cascading fall of Its fellows earlier that week: sharing power between the Jibakushin was a mistake, and should be kept to an absolute minimum. But that didn't mean the condor couldn't use a fraction of Its own energy to bring a few extra pawns into the fold.

This pathetic human was the perfect test subject for this process; his will so lacking in strength that breaking required virtually no effort. One simple Thrall – tethered to Wiraqocha Rasca's host via the wings that the Earthbound God had so graciously given him – and this "Garome" had been bending over backward to grovel at his Master's feet.

Now, it was time for the next step.

The pulsing of the feather drew more and more rapid, the royal violet glow expanding in time with the beat until it enveloped the pudgy loan shark completely, new feathers bursting from the original like an erupting geyser until they swallowed his weak form whole.

The ebony plumes crossed each other as they settled into a willowy chrysalis, one which unfolded a few moments later into a set of billowing robes. Matsuki Garome could no longer be seen beneath the mass of unearthly cloth, a loose hood now obscuring his features as he rose to meet his Master's gaze.

"You are reborn now, Matsuki Garome!" declared the condor. A glance to the side informed the Jibakushin that Its host's mate had finally recovered from the hummingbird's ministrations, as she was now unsteadily attempting to regain her footing. Wiraqocha Rasca paid her little notice, however; It was savoring the moment.

"Your human identity may be discarded – you have no further use for it," It continued to bellow. "Now…you are Our Reaper! Our collector of souls!"

Deftly, the possessed Dark King plucked out six more feathers from Its sharp wingtip and handed them to the being that It had now termed "The Reaper." The jet-black quills disappeared into the folds of the massive cloak as he accepted them wordlessly.

"Take these and seek out beings who contain great Darkness within their Hearts," the Jibakushin ordered. "Use the feathers to place them under Our Thrall, and return them to Us when you are finished. Do you understand these terms?"

The Reaper merely nodded, for the power of speech appeared to have left him completely with the transformation. But that same change had brought with it monumental power, and with that power in hand the Reaper had no intention of disappointing his Master.

And so with a subservient bow, the Reaper turned and exited from the chamber, stepping over the bodies of his former henchmen without a second thought. All of his mental processes were focused solely on the mission that his Dark King had prescribed for him. Obedience was all he knew any longer.

Jack, meanwhile, slumped over as the condor relinquished direct control over his body; Its work here was done, for the moment.

Carly, who'd been staring numbly at her husband's overtaken form for the past minute or so, acted just quickly enough to catch him before he fell, and with all the energy she had left she teleported them both to their bedroom, making sure to prop him against some pillows before exhaustion claimed her utterly.

[-]

Mikage Sagiri wasn't sure whether to be relieved when she realized that her mysterious captor wasn't yet ready to make his "incisions." Apparently he had a full procedure that required feeling and measuring every inch of her face first…one which, while thoroughly unpleasant, was at least putting off her death by a short time.

Rescue was a rather unlikely prospect at this point – Mikage herself didn't even know where she was, so how should anyone else be able to locate her? – but she had to keep holding onto that hope, considering that hoping was about the only avenue available to her at the moment.

If only she didn't have the gag in her mouth. Mikage had been a psychology major in college, and ironically enough a modus operandi profile of method killers had been the subject of her senior thesis.

Perhaps, if she could only reason with her assailant…but no, even if she had access to her voice, she highly doubted that'd be a particularly effective strategy. This man was clearly disturbed in a way that her education had not prepared her to deal with, as his broken speech pattern amply demonstrated.

So then, if communication was out of the question, what options did that leave her? Her hands, shoulders, and upper shins were secured tightly to the chair, which left only her neck and feet as movable digits…

And then, Mikage saw it. Located a meter away was a table loaded up with her abductor's precious lamps, and immediately next to it was one of the chairs containing a grinning cadaver.

Gambling desperately that the mysterious killer wasn't paying close attention (from what she could hear, he seemed to be sharpening his knife yet again), the blue-haired secretary deftly used her feet to slide her chair a few inches to the right, allowing her to hook an ankle around one of the corpse's chair legs.

Then, taking a deep breath, Mikage pulled her foot backward.

The chain reaction went exactly as Mikage had envisioned it. The chair was sent crashing into the table, causing the rotten wood to splinter and the light sources to cascade noisily to the ground. Her captor let out a guttural cry just as the glass in the lamps cracked open, and a portion of the room was plunged into darkness.

Immediately the man sprinted forward to examine the shattered lights, pulling the shards of glass out of the blackness and cradling them as if they were fallen friends. Mikage took this opportunity to examine her captor, who strangely enough didn't appear to be wearing a mask or any other method of concealing his identity.

Still, the gargantuan man – he looked to be at least seven feet – was one who was unfamiliar to the young woman.

He was old, at least compared to her; she'd have guessed him to be in his late fifties or early sixties if asked. But his attire did not correspond to that age at all.

In addition to a heavy trench coat and muscle shirt (ironically, both fairly dark in tone), the giant wore a dome-shaped hat and maroon gloves, which were outfitted with thick rings around the wrists, as well as running eyeliner in the shape of black tears.

And as he turned to face her, rage and anguish etched all over his nightmare-inducing face, she noticed one other possible clue to his identity – a rather conspicuous "P" and "K" represented in English block lettering upon the chest area of his trench coat.

"You!" he roared insanely, catching her off-guard. "You…destroy…Light! You not…like others! Me…Me burn you! Me burn you!"

And then, quite abruptly, he stormed out of the room.

[-]

Being Principal of the original Duel Academia was, to put it simply, not quite as fun as it sounded on paper.

Asuka Tenjoin thought that she'd have gotten used to the stresses of being the head of the largest dueling school in the world by now – she'd held the job for over eight years at this point – but evidently that wasn't the case.

And the fact that she was now having to deal with Professor Saotome's latest budget request (that woman's serial history of catastrophic equipment failure had been a financial headache to the institution ever since she joined the staff) wasn't helping matters.

"Need some help over there, Tomorrow Girl?" came a voice from the doorway.

Asuka's lip curled in bemusement. "That was Jim's nickname for me, wasn't it?" she said. "Sounds a little strange coming from my husband."

"Aw, I'm hurt," replied Jun Manjoume in mock affront as he sauntered into the room. "I'd be jealous as well, if it weren't for the fact that we haven't seen him in over twenty years. Haven't seen a lot of the old gang in that long, actually…"

"Are you just here to reminisce?" Asuka asked, rubbing her forehead in exhaustion. "Because while that's all well and good, I actually do have quite a bit of work to get to here."

"Hence my original offer, dear," answered Manjoume, his tone playful. "Believe it or not, I've actually got quite a mind underneath this gorgeous hair."

"Once it starts graying, I think that you definitely need to stop referring to it as 'gorgeous,' Jun," Asuka told him, unable to keep herself from smiling a bit in return. "But…well, if you seriously want to help, then run that stack of requisition forms over to Fubuki." Asuka paused for a moment and placed a finger to her chin. "Where is my brother today, anyway?"

"Oh, you know onii-san," said Manjoume with a short chuckle. "Since it was so nice out today, our esteemed Vice Principal decided to demonstrate his surfing prowess to a fairly large crowd of female Obelisks."

"That's Fubuki for you, alright," Asuka responded, sighing deeply. "I hoped that he might rein in that sort of behavior once he became a teacher. But…well, in any event, can you just run the papers down to him? I don't have the time nor the energy to go down to the beach and try to reason with my brother at the moment."

"Oh, but you look so sexy in your bathing suit," declared Manjoume, which resulted in his wife flicking a random card at him.

Catching the Etoile Cyber in his fingers and twirling it around confidently, the wild-haired duelist added, "Fine, I'll do it…but only if you refer to me properly."

"Oh god, not the chant again," Asuka groaned. "Haven't you outgrown that tired old thing yet?"

When Manjoume's amused expression made it clear that he had not, the blonde Principal sighed again and deadpanned, "Ichi…"

Manjoume then turned to his right shoulder, where Asuka could only assume the Ojamas were chiming in with, "juu," hyaku," and "sen." Though she'd long since accepted the existence of her husband's several dozen Duel Spirits and allowed them free reign on the island, the fact that he so frequently had conversations with beings she could neither see nor hear still managed to unnerve her from time to time.

Particularly when the couple was enjoying their…private time. Jun always yelled at the "politely" intruding brothers to scram the moment he and Asuka retired to their bedroom, but as she had no objective way to confirm their compliance, unease with the invisible trio still tended to linger at the back of her mind.

In any event, however…

"Manjoume-sanda," she said after a suitable amount of time, certain that the Ojama brothers were joining her. "There…now will you get to it?"

"You got it, babe," replied Manjoume with a wink, making Judai's old "Gotcha!" motion with his fingers before setting off. Asuka wondered vaguely if he even consciously realized the source of the gesture, before shrugging and deciding that it didn't really matter.

Like all of her old friends, Asuka greatly missed Judai Yuki, but she couldn't blame him for laying low for the past couple of decades.

After all those oh-so-convenient "accidents" that'd taken place within months of each other around nineteen years ago – Misawa, Kenzan, Ryo, Edo, Hayato, even Junko and Momoe – even Asuka had been heavily considering going into hiding, the needs of her students being the only force powerful enough to stay her hand.

Still, it'd been at her urging that Jun gave up professional dueling after only a few extraordinarily successful years of practicing it. The inferno that claimed the lives of Ryo, Edo, and nearly half a million fans during the Pro-Leagues Championship Cup of 2010 had scared her shitless, and she had therefore insisted that he join her on Academia Island from then onward.

The deaths of so many of their old friends had come far too frequently, and in far too short a space of time, to be written off as mere coincidences. Someone, or something, had to be behind it all…and Asuka never quite stopped looking over her shoulder as a result.

Far too distracted to return to her menial work, Asuka Tenjoin turned her chair to the wall-length window that lined the rear of her office, staring pensively at the radiant sun.

Jun Manjoume, meanwhile, was taking a moment to drink in that very same radiance as he sauntered toward the beach. Being the head of Osiris Red might not be the most glamorous job in the world – at least, not compared to his brief taste of glory all those years ago – but it was worth it simply to bask in the wonderfully tropical environment of this island all year-round.

Duel Academia had been his first true home; the first place where he'd finally managed to shed the oppressive influence of his brothers and really live.

Asuka, Judai, the rest of their extended group of friends and comrades-in-arms…they'd all become Manjoume's true family, and the black-haired duelist knew he wouldn't be half the man he was today if not for their influence.

"Sanda! Sanda!" cried out a voice from the side, and Jun turned to see the Duel Spirit of Cliff the Trap Remover bounding up the hill toward his master.

Manjoume smiled fondly at the bespectacled former thief. Though his initial encounter with the Black Scorpion Gang had been rather…unpleasant at best, he'd grown to accept them over the years as some of the most useful assets in his small army of Spirit Partners.

Plus, all of them apart from Meanae were respectful enough to refer to him by his self-proclaimed title, which was always a nice bonus.

"What's up, Cliff?" the duelist asked politely.

"We're not entirely sure, Manjoume-sanda," answered the spirit. "Zaruug thinks he saw something strange heading toward the island from the west about ten minutes ago, and sent me to warn you. I'm guessing that it's probably nothing, but just to be on the safe side…"

"Say no more," said Jun. "Spirit of the Gentle Breeze, you mind checking this one out for me?"

The ethereal fairy, who'd been floating casually in the warm drafts surrounding Academia Island's volcano, bowed her head graciously and flew out over the ocean to observe. A few moments later a sharp tug pulled at the corner of his mind…and a distant, bloodcurdling scream within that same corner informed Manjoume quite assuredly that the Duel Spirit had been obliterated.

Instantly the Osiris head stood rigid, his demeanor changing entirely as his mind focused with razor-sharp intensity on the situation at hand.

"Alright…we've got something coming our way with the power to kill Duel Spirits, so we need to act quickly," he declared, Cliff's eyes growing wide as he did. "Don Zaruug's old Shadow Charm is hidden at the bottom of a well in the forest. Cliff, gather the rest of the Black Scorpions, and you guys…"

He turned to address the Ojamas over his shoulder before adding, "…You guys, show them where it is. Tell Zaruug to give as many Spirits as possible corporeal forms, and then have the ones that can pass as humans evacuate the students and faculty by boat. Give the staff the emergency code 'Chthonia'…they'll understand how serious the situation is from that."

"Y…Yes, Manjoume-sanda!" Cliff exclaimed with a salute, sprinting off in the direction of his leader with the Ojama brothers in tow.

At the same time Jun returned to his mission to locate Fubuki, though with quite a bit more urgency than he'd been beforehand. Racing at top speed, it took only about two minutes for Manjoume to reach the beach, where the handsome Vice Principal was taking a break from the waves to sign autographs for a few of his admirers.

"Shishou!" Jun called out, causing the elder Tenjoin to turn in his direction and wave serenely. Taking a deep breath, the duelist took his former mentor by the shoulder and began leading him away from his feminine company. "Look, I need to talk to you."

"Can't it wait?" Fubuki pleaded dramatically. "I was just about to show these lovely ladies the new technique I just perfected: Duel Surfing!"

"But wouldn't that get the cards…? Argh, never mind," said Manjoume, shaking his head. "The point is, I need to talk to you now. And as for you girls…you should start hauling your asses to the docks. We're evacuating the island immediately."

Predictably, this pronouncement resulted in something of a panic, as dozens of swimwear-clad students rushed to gather their things and tear off to the island's harbor. Fubuki, meanwhile, turned to his brother-in-law and asked seriously, "What's going on here, Manjoume-kun? Why the heck are we evacuating everyone?"

"Something's coming," Jun told him. "I don't know exactly what it is yet…but it was powerful enough to kill one of my Duel Spirits in about three seconds, which is reason enough to get the hell out of here while we can."

"Yeah…that definitely sounds bad," said Fubuki, leaning in close. "So how can I help?"

"Just come with me," replied Manjoume. "I've already set up a plan to get everyone off the island, and the other teachers should be able to handle it once they're given the heads-up. As for us, though…we've gotta get back to Asuka. I'm not leaving her alone for another second. Not while shit like this is going down."

"Alright, alright…let's go," stated Fubuki after a brief pause, and the two professors proceeded to tear off for the Administrative Building as quickly as their feet could carry them.

About halfway there, however, the older man broke off and started running in a different direction, calling back, "Wait, I forgot something! I'll catch up!"

"Wait…shishou! Shishou!" Manjoume cried out, but it was no use; Fubuki was an almost world-class sprinter when he needed to be. Stomping the ground and swearing loudly, Jun resumed his trek to his wife's office, not slowing his pace one iota until he burst through the door, panting.

"What's the hurry?" asked Asuka with the hint of a smirk, but her husband merely grabbed her by the wrist and began pulling her out of the room.

"No time to explain, dear…not that there's a whole lot to explain, either," he said wearily. "Someone, or something, with the power to kill Duel Spirits is coming here, so I've given the order to evacuate Duel Academia. We need to get ourselves to the docks, pronto."

"Wait…what?!" Asuka exclaimed, wrenching her arm out of his hand. "But…But what happened with Fubuki, then?"

"Onii-san knows about it…but he ran off because he apparently 'forgot something,'" breathed Manjoume with a shake of his head. "We've just gotta assume he's at least got the sense to realize we don't have a ton of time on our hands, and hope he meets us at the harbor before it's too late. But we have got to go!"

"F…Fine," Asuka stammered, grabbing a handful of small objects from her desk and stuffing them into her pocket – including, Jun noted with interest, her old deck. Then, without another word, the couple raced out to the east side of Academia Island.

It was evident upon their arrival that the Black Scorpions had been quite successful in their mission. Large swathes of students and faculty were flooding into the narrow harbor, while a now-physical Don Zaruug (bedecked in his old detective disguise) was organizing them into teams to board the Academia's generous supply of boats.

Flashing the gun-toting Duel Spirit a thumbs up, Manjoume turned his attention to the non-corporeal spirits, of which there were a great many. Floating over the heads of the panicked teenagers like silent guardians, what appeared to be every single Spirit Partner he possessed were assembled along the wharf, gazing expectantly at their master.

The spiky-haired duelist sought out three particular ones, however.

"Alright you guys, bring me up to speed," Jun demanded of the Ojama Trio.

"Everything went just like you planned it, aniki," Ojama Yellow answered, his demeanor uncharacteristically serious. It appeared that the death of Spirit of the Gentle Breeze had sobered up the normally lighthearted brothers by a fair margin, at least for the time being.

"We showed Zaruug the place where you hid the Seven Stars' old Shadow Charms, and he used it to turn himself, the other Black Scorpions, Starving Maiden, and Chaos Necromancer solid for the next couple hours," explained the Duel Spirit. "The Black Scorpion Gang is helping load people on the boats, Maiden is with the kitchen staff grabbing supplies, and Necromancer is below deck, holding onto the rest of the Shadow Charms for safekeeping."

"That one was my idea!" Ojama Black piped up. "Figured we probably shouldn't give whatever's comin' the chance to get their hands on 'em!"

"Pretty impressive…for a gremlin wearing a Speedo," said Manjoume with a curled lip. "So is everyone here, then?"

"Looks like it," replied Ojama Green, clearly not wanting to be left out of a rare chance to be truly useful to their aniki. "Once Zaruug spread the message to Saotome-sensei, she raised hell getting everyone out here. She even sent people into the dorms with bullhorns!"

"She can always be counted on never to do anything halfway," Jun told them with a small grin. "Like most of her best traits, she learned it from Judai. And speaking of…Rei! Kohara! Get your asses over here!"

While the lowly head of Osiris Red was ostensibly ranked below them in the Academia's power structure, female Obelisk Blue head Rei Saotome and Ra Yellow head Kohara Brayer both deferred to Manjoume as a general rule, if for no other reason than that he was married to their boss.

But beyond that, the former pro-duelist was a natural leader and strategist in times like this, and the attentive way that the other two professors answered his summons was proof that they understood this.

"What do you need, Manjoume-san?" Kohara asked politely.

"Well, I thought it best we get the whole administration together for a quick chat, so we can make sure we're all on the same page," responded Jun. "Err…right, Asuka-chan?"

"Oh! Um…yeah…" murmured the blonde Principal, clearly surprised to be consulted despite her position of authority. She was evidently quite distracted by something, stealing glances every few seconds at the opposite horizon, and Manjoume was sure he knew why.

Ever since that business with Darkness (both times), and even moreso after that horrible year where death had come suspiciously frequently to members of their old gang, Asuka's protective instinct where her brother was concerned had swelled massively.

Jun knew that, as with himself, the main reason Fubuki had remained to teach at his alma mater – rather than leave to pursue his teenage dream of pop stardom – was to assuage his sister's worries.

"He'll be fine, dear," said Manjoume, attempting to reassure her. "Fubuki-sama is the most diehard and resourceful man I've ever met; there's a reason I call him 'shishou.' Besides, it looks like that thing isn't as close to the island as we feared. If it was almost here, we'd have noticed something by now…"

Jun Manjoume was just about to add that this gave Fubuki plenty of time to rush back after completing whatever the fuck he was doing…but the gaping, bloody hole that appeared in the center of Kohara's chest cut off the rest of his statement rather forcefully.

The Ra Yellow head gasped before collapsing to his knees in instantaneous death, and that's when all hell broke loose.

Gazing upward, Manjoume observed to his horror a flock of what appeared to be slime-covered birds, circling murderously over their heads before diving one-by-one at the crowd below, ripping people's hearts directly from their chests.

The loading of the boats, which a moment ago had been proceeding at a fairly steady pace, immediately grew frantic as students pushed and shoved past each other in a frenzy. Several of the fully packed ships panicked and started their motors, but the avian demons were evidently both intelligent and swift. Without delay they began dive-bombing the boat's engines, committing explosive suicide to prevent the students and faculty from escaping.

And worst of all, very few of the students or staff appeared to have the slightest idea where the monstrous creatures were; indeed, many ended up running directly into the birds' paths, with mortal consequences.

It took just a moment for Manjoume to realize that, like Duel Spirits, these beasts could not be easily seen by the naked eye…and just a moment longer to shove Asuka and Rei to the ground, narrowly avoiding decapitation by an approaching swarm.

And as Jun poked his head up, grunting at the roughness of his own dive, he found himself staring directly at what was clearly the master of these nightmarish entities.

The thing was enormous – at least the height of a skyscraper, if not greater, with the breath of a suspension bridge and a sense of sheer, unbridled weight on par with a blue whale. Worsening the effect was the fact that the creature was composed of the same grayish ooze as its birdlike servants, giving it the appearance that it was constantly melting as it slowly trudged its way across Academia Island.

Manjoume watched helplessly as the titanic beast began to demolish the Obelisk dormitories, razing the buildings to the ground with a jet of dark fire. But before the behemoth could proceed onward to Ra, it was struck ferociously from the side by a massive blue claw.

Jun Manjoume, Asuka Tenjoin, and Rei Saotome all stared with their mouths agape as the Divine Flame Emperor Uria, Descending Thunder Emperor Hamon, and Phantom Demon Emperor Raviel began to engage in a colossal battle with the invading creature, using their demonic powers to hold it off from the escaping students and staff.

And at their feet was none other than Fubuki Tenjoin, holding up the cards that housed their phantasmal spirits in apparent triumph.

But even from this distance, Manjoume could tell that that appearance was deceiving; the Vice Principal's legs were shaking violently, and sweat was dripping down all across his skin.

Jun recalled with horror that the Sangenma materialized in the physical world by absorbing life energy – Kagemaru had managed it by utilizing the Duel Spirits of every card on the island, while Yubel had taken advantage of the ambient power she'd absorbed from Professor Cobra's Des-Belts.

But Fubuki had no such advantages. He was fueling the godlike entities solely with the life force of a single mortal…and it wouldn't be long before that very limited well would dry up.

Asuka immediately rushed forward to her brother, with Rei close in tow. Though he was sorely tempted to follow them with figurative guns a-blazing, Manjoume instead forced himself to think logically about the problem.

"Chaos Necromancer, get out here!" he shouted after a brief moment's thought. Obediently, the fiendish puppeteer leapt from his hiding place within one of the stalled boats, an enormous coat drawn around himself to block his less-human parts from view. The coat was bulging, as if something was hidden under it, and this was what Manjoume's strategy was hinging on.

"Zaruug, it's time to dispense with the subterfuge!" Jun further ordered. "Give physical forms to every Spirit here, and take care of these fucking birds!"

"You heard him, gang!" Don Zaruug cried out, his tone equal parts overdramatic and genuinely dangerous. "Black Scorpions, assemble!"

Immediately the band of Duel Spirit thieves threw off their human disguises and got together in formation, while Zaruug's Shadow Charm burned fiercely. A moment later the harbor became populated with dozens and dozens of formerly invisible Spirit Partners, and with an explosive firing of Zaruug's pistols as their signal they struck back at the invaders, tearing the filthy birds apart at every turn.

Satisfied that the odds had been balanced on this end, he gestured for Chaos Necromancer to follow him and raced to Fubuki himself.

"So this was what you were up to, shishou?" asked Jun as they reached the brunette Vice Principal's position.

Asuka was grasping onto her brother in sheer desperation, feeding him some of her own life energy to sustain the activity of his brain and heart. Still, anything more taxing than the response of a pained grimace was clearly beyond Fubuki's power at the moment.

Deciding to eschew further verbal communication for the time being, Manjoume began reaching into Chaos Necromancer's coat and sliding the aged Shadow Charms onto Fubuki's body.

His own pendant from the period where he'd been possessed by Darkness came first, and the older man visibly relaxed when it slipped around his neck. Then came Carmilla's choker, and Taniya's gauntlet, and Abidos' headband, and Titan's mask.

By the time that Fubuki received Kagemaru's ring, he no longer appeared to be even remotely exhausted, the shadowy energies of the talismans boosting his own strength tremendously.

"T…Thanks, Manjoume-kun," said Fubuki with a strained but confident smile, and at his silent behest the Sangenma began pushing back more aggressively against the behemoth.

Uria burned a great hole in the beast's torso, Hamon tore massive portions of its limbs away with concentrated lightning strikes, and in a magnificent coup-de-grace Raviel charged up its clawed fists with shadowy energy and, grasping the creature's beaked head, wrenched it clean in two.

For a moment – just a single moment – Jun Manjoume almost believed that they had emerged victorious. But in the next second the monster was already repairing itself, a seemingly endless supply of hellish slime oozing up to replace what was lost.

As this small war of attrition continued, it became quite clear that in terms of sheer physical might, the Sangenma together bested this creature by a fair margin. But their enemy was far more durable than they, seemingly able to regenerate from even the most overwhelming damage.

After the third straight instance of the beast pulling itself back together, Rei Saotome stepped up from the sidelines and said, "Y'know, I really don't think this is working…"

"You've got a point there, Rei-chan," Fubuki replied with a sigh, the Eyes of Wdjat upon his Charms glowing bright. "On my signal, start running back to the harbor!"

Manjoume, Asuka, Rei, and Chaos Necromancer all nodded in recognition, hoping to high heaven that the affably quirky Vice Principal knew what he was doing. And as the glowing of the Shadow Charms peaked, so too did the Sangenma shine to an almost blinding gold.

The monster took a few steps back as the three silhouettes flashed brilliantly and then converged, unleashing the demonic Gods' fused form: the Chaos Phantasm Armityle.

Having been a mindless Duel Zombie at the time that it was first summoned, Manjoume had never before had much of a chance to admire the incredible figure that was this 10,000-ATK behemoth…

And he wouldn't have much of a chance now either, as Fubuki took that opportunity to cry, "Alright, let's go!"

At that command the four professors and single Duel Spirit raced madly back to the docks, and as they ran Jun shouted, "So you went back for the Sangenma, huh? That's both the smartest and the most motherfucking stupid thing I've ever seen you do, shishou!"

"Well, you know me. Smart and motherfucking stupid is kinda my specialty," Fubuki responded with a humorless chuckle. "These things have already come close to destroying the world at least twice…I just couldn't stand the thought of some new evil force getting a hold of them. So I retrieved them from the Spirit Gate, figured I'd destroy them once we got out of here. But then I saw that thing heading toward you guys and, well…I thought, hey, maybe there might be some leftover energy within me from when I was a Star Assassin, so I gave it a whirl…"

"And nearly killed yourself in the process," said Asuka, a small catch in her throat. "I'm pretty sure that's where the 'most motherfucking stupid' part comes in, onii-san."

"Still, it worked…well, sorta," declared Fubuki. "But thanks for bringing me these old Shadow Charms – I don't think I'd have lasted more than a minute or two longer without them."

"What was that last trick you pulled with those artifact things, anyway?" Rei asked, her long blue hair trailing behind her as she struggled to keep up with her longer-legged colleagues.

Manjoume silently reminded himself that Rei hadn't been there for all but a day of their first year, so she was unlikely to know all that much about the Shadow Charms or the Seven Stars.

"Poured all the remaining juice in the items into Armityle, so it could remain solid without me having to stand there and feed it constantly," Fubuki explained. "Think it should be able to remain separated from the original Sangenma cards for a good hour or so."

Jun chanced a glance back at the clashing titans and noted with satisfaction that the fused god appeared to be pushing back against the invader, keeping up a steady burst of flame from the arm that incorporated Uria's maw to keep the beast from following them.

The sight awaiting them at the harbor, however, was rather less heartening.

Fresh human casualties appeared to be fairly low, but this had clearly come at a horrific cost. Corpses of now-physical Duel Spirits strewed the battlefield, having given their lives in droves to protect their Partners from harm.

The birds, meanwhile, had disappeared from the scene utterly. The distinctive sound of flapping above alerted Manjoume to the remains of the swarm fleeing back to their creator in a frenzy, chased from the rear by a steady string of Zaruug's potent gunfire.

Turning his attentions back to the carnage with an increasingly heavy heart, Jun noticed that the remaining Black Scorpions had abandoned the battle to surround the limp figure of Gorg. A moment later Chick moved his head, giving Manjoume a clear view of fallen Spirit, and the duelist was forced to hold down vomit as he observed the disemboweled abdomen of the amicable strongman.

Letting his still-smoking pistols drop as the creatures passed out of range, Don Zaruug raced over to his aniki and bowed slightly.

"Manjoume-sanda, your plan was truly inspired. I only wish the price for its success hadn't been so high," said the former thief, his vision cast downward. "But you should be pleased to know that nearly all of your students have survived this first assault with…minimal damage. I've counted thirteen human casualties: ten students, Kohara-sensei, Takadera-sensei, and Sorano-sensei."

Manjoume felt a massive lump form in his throat. "And the Duel Spirits…?" he asked, dreading the answer.

"It would be easier…to name the Spirits who didn't perish in this battle," Zaruug answered, his voice ringing hollow. "Only Meanae, Cliff, Chick, the Ojamas, Sacrifice, Soul Tiger, Blood Vors, and myself remain."

"I…I see…" whispered Jun, his eyes moist.

Surveying the war-torn harbor a second time revealed to him the truth in Zaruug's words. Mimic Illusionist, with the mirror that made up his face shattered cruelly; Matatabi Cat, its royal blue fur stained liberally with blood; Dark Blade's helmeted head, severed cleanly from the remainder of his armored body.

Turning to the side, he observed similar expressions of numb shock on each of his fellow humans. No reaction was as clear or as visceral as Chaos Necromancer's, however – the puppeteer's mute lips stretched open in a silent cry of agony.

Manjoume thought he could understand: the Spirit's innate abilities increased his strength with the demise of his fellows, and the bountiful power now pouring into him was doubtless serving as a constant reminder of the sheer scope of the casualties.

"Now, if you'll excuse me, sanda…" Don Zaruug added after an uncomfortably lengthy silence, his own tears brimming at the sight of the Necromancer's noiseless breakdown. "I should…rejoin my gang. We need to…to say goodbye…"

"Do what you have to," the Osiris head said in a low voice, and the normally happy-go-lucky thief walked over to his friend's corpse and knelt, Meanae's comforting arm placing itself upon his shoulder.

Asuka did the same for her husband a moment later, and the ever compassionate Fubuki took it upon himself to offer the same courtesy to Chaos Necromancer, who was now coming as close as a perpetually masked Duel Spirit could to weeping in sorrow.

As such, it was Rei who first noticed that something was wrong. "Umm, guys? You should take a look at this," she told them, her tone brimming with fear.

Simultaneously, all four of the other figures within hearing distance turned their heads, and their eyes widened in unison.

The birdlike creatures, rather than fleeing back to their master as Manjoume had assumed, were now diving headfirst into the puddles of slime the enormous monster had left behind wherever it stepped.

And in turn, each of the puddles began to boil and churn disturbingly, culminating in several stranger, much larger constructs rising in a process that could only charitably be called "nightmare fuel."

While not quite as enormous as their creator, these entities were still absolutely titanic, towering over every still-standing building on the island. Jun counted several vaguely humanoid figures among their numbers, as well as massive lizards, spiders, monkeys, and even great floating whales.

Each otherworldly abomination that rose from the depths of the grayish slime was more horrific than the next, their visibly unstable forms bulging and contracting revoltingly as they moved.

The few remaining humans and Duel Spirits were helpless to do much more than stare as these new wretches rushed to aid their master, leaping onto Chaos Phantasm Armityle with absolutely no regard to self-preservation. The artificial god struggled to throw off these new threats, but they were replicating at an alarming rate and in any event, the original monster was taking full advantage of the significant distraction they represented.

With the oozing beasts restricting the use of its limbs, Armityle was finding it increasingly difficult to counterattack against the other creature's constant stream of dark flames and physical battery, resorting to repeatedly firing off lightning that seemed to do little more than mildly slow the behemoth.

Despite the sheer amount of dark magic that'd gone into its realization, the greatest of the Sangenma was showing considerable strain, and Manjoume could tell that at this rate it would not be lasting much longer…

That was, before an obese, chalk-white mutant wearing a Speedo, cape, and miniscule crown slammed directly into the monster's abdomen, knocking it off balance and sending it crashing into the side of the volcano.

Silently applauding the Ojama Trio for their resourcefulness, Jun wasted no time in taking advantage of the surprise attack.

"Load up the boats that still work, now!" he shouted to the remaining students and staff, cursing himself for not giving this order sooner. "As many as can fit to each one, and then move out for North Academy!"

"Yes, sensei!" cried one of the more levelheaded third-year students, who immediately got to work guiding the younger teenagers onto the two ships that the birds hadn't managed to wreck.

Manjoume then turned to his fellow professors and affixed them with a stern glare.

"You all need to help load up those boats in an orderly manner, and then – and this is key – I want you three to get on them," he said, his voice kept forcefully steady.

"And leave you to die?" Fubuki asked quietly. "That's what you're planning…isn't it, Manjoume-kun?"

"Let's just say I'm prepared for that outcome," replied Jun, before offering his wife a slow and sensuous kiss. "The only beings on this island with any hope of combating these creatures are the remaining Duel Spirits, and they need someone to lead them. That's gotta be me. So…don't go trying to stop me."

Asuka was silent, her eyes desperately avoiding her husband's, before she muttered, "G…Go on. It's what he would have done, anyway. No doubt about that…"

None of her friends required any clarification as to who "he" was, and it was in memory of his example that no one made further question of Manjoume's nigh-suicidal heroics.

And so, with a final exchange of nods, Rei and the Tenjoins began helping to direct the students. Jun, meanwhile, headed over to where the few surviving Duel Spirits were gathered, Chaos Necromancer trailing behind him.

"This is it!" Manjoume declared, reminding himself vividly of the time he'd organized virtually the entire Academia in ousting the Society of Light from the island. "Over the years we've all fought side by side, defending this island from anyone who's tried to fuck with it. Now this new creature has invaded our home and slaughtered our brothers and sisters, and I say it's about time we make it pay! Let's go, everyone…to our final stand!"

Manjoume's short speech had quite a profound effect, as a great battle cry erupted from the throats of those Duel Spirits blessed with the power of speech, charging forward in a small but formidable mass.

Chaos Necromancer in particular was giving off a palpable sense of righteous fury as mystical wires burst from his fingertips and lodged themselves within the corpses of the fallen spirits, readying his most gruesome and terrifyingly desperate technique. A few seconds passed before the faint tendrils pulsed with energy, and the mutilated bodies rose up like an army of marionettes, prepared to fight once more.

As the Spirits' general in all but name, Manjoume helped lead the charge in an all out assault on the oozing servants, assisting Armityle in throwing them off while Ojama King continued to distract the master beast.

Don Zaruug laid down a constant battery of covering fire as the other Black Scorpions furiously hacked, slashed, and whipped the creatures from closer range; Gorg's demise had clearly tapped deeply into the thieves' collective rage.

Soul Tiger defended them from retaliation in these efforts, blocking any counterattacks with its nigh-impregnable body, whereas Blood Vors dispensed with all subtlety and simply decapitated every enemy monster he could reach.

Sacrifice and Chaos Necromancer, however, were certainly the most brutally effective of the bunch. The low-level Ritual Monster was routinely absorbing these strange creatures and turning their own powers against their fellows, a geyser of sickening slime bursting forth from the vacuum-like tissue in its center. Meanwhile the grief-stricken puppeteer commanded the legions of dead spirits to leap upon their killers, forcing them off of Armityle and freeing the fused demon to raze dozens of enemies at a time with its flames.

Soon enough the extra beasts were largely cleared off, prevented from reforming by the sheer brutality of Armityle's most devastating attacks.

The original creature was alone once more, and this suited the chaotic god just fine. Manjoume shivered and silently thanked the heavens that the greatest of the Sangenma was now on their side, as he did not envy the look of divine fury it was now aiming toward its enemy.

Chaos Phantasm Armityle, backed by all of Jun's remaining Duel Spirits, struck without mercy, taking advantage of Ojama King's antics (and subtle but vital ability to restrict the ground on which his opponents could tread) to lay into the titanic monster with everything it had.

Mountains of hellish goop flew from the creature's sickening form, and mindful of what'd just occurred Armityle immediately set about incinerating every trace of the slime from the island's surface.

Still, even deprived of its minions, the behemoth's regenerative abilities were no less effective. Soon enough the fused Sangenma found itself in precisely the same situation that its component pieces had – strong enough to best this beast at every turn, but not quite enough to finish it off.

And as the war of attrition progressed, casualties began to run higher; a stray bolt of dark fire eradicated Cliff and Chick in a blinding flash, while Soul Tiger received an great claw through the heart as it rushed to protect Blood Vors, falling to Earth with a faint, almost ethereal crash.

Again and again his few remaining Spirit Partners dropped like flies, outclassed to the nth-degree by this terrifying harbinger of death, and it took every ounce of Manjoume's self-control to keep from screaming as they did. Only Armityle stood even the remotest chance of doing more than distracting the creature, but this stalemate – and the fact that the fused Sangenma was no longer drawing upon any external sources of energy to feed its insatiable hunger – was clearly getting to it.

Still, Jun was thoroughly unprepared when the beast managed to stun Armityle with a headbutt…followed swiftly afterward by a monumental beam of hellish energy that tore straight through the phantasmal demon's stomach, leaving a gaping hole behind.

Armityle's fall was a horrifying thing. Both of its mouths screeched in agony as its body began to collapse and fragment, bending inward onto itself as its tail slipped out from under it. Though his history with the Sangenma had been unrelentingly sordid prior to this day, there was just something inherently wrong about seeing such a divine figure succumb to a mortal wound.

And as the titanic corpse came crashing to the ground, Jun Manjoume was struck quite forcefully with the realization that he'd been fighting off for the greater part of the past hour: that this battle was truly lost.

No matter how bravely and honorably they defended their home, this was a creature whose sole purpose was to destroy, and despite all their best efforts they'd been powerless to do more than briefly stall its progress. Even a god had ultimately proved unable to stop it.

At these thoughts, Jun chanced a glance back at the docks, and was immensely relieved to see that both boats were beginning to set sail. Impossible their victory might be…but if they could merely stall this beast for a few minutes longer, at least their nigh-inevitable deaths might not be in vain.

But even a few more minutes of survival was swiftly turning out to be a tall order to fill, as with their greatest weapon vanquished, the invader was having little trouble obliterating every last lingering shred of resistance. Blood Vors went first, brutally cut down as he leapt at the creature in a blind fury, fully intent on avenging Armityle through the bloodthirsty blade of his axe.

But as his bleeding cadaver was tossed aside, his lower body completely severed from his upper, the oozing abomination turned its sights to Chaos Necromancer, who was now desperately plunging several of his glowing cords into Armityle's fraying corpse.

The puppeteer's other revenants attempted to shield the masked Duel Spirit, but it was no use; the marionette strings tethered him too firmly to a single location, and so with the thunderous impact of one of its massive legs, the monster crushed the poor Spirit into dust.

Diving out of the way as the again-inanimate body of Dark Blade was tossed toward him by the collision, Manjoume reserved a moment to take stock of the few forces that remained alive. Don Zaruug and Meanae the Thorn were rapidly backing away from the advancing creature, hands held tightly together as Zaruug's bullets continued to sink ineffectually into the folds of the beast's slime, while Ojama King and Sacrifice were both circling around its beaked head, searching frantically for an opening in its defenses.

And…that was it. Nearly forty Spirit Partners had, over the course of an hour, been reduced to four – and this nightmarish God of Death seemed intent on reducing that number to zero.

The attack was sudden, but hardly unexpected – while Ojama King was taking great care to maintain a highly erratic flight pattern, Sacrifice was hovering far more predictably, and in a single moment it was quite literally backhanded by the creature, slamming the Ritual Monster into the side of the administrative building and reducing its shell to a bloody pulp.

But worse yet, Ojama King was caught by the decaying claw as it recoiled back, sent flying by the glancing blow…though the Fusion Monster, mercifully, avoided complete annihilation. Still, upon impact with the ground the beast shattered into his composite forms, and Jun ran to catch the injured Ojama Trio as they bounced away ungracefully.

"A…Aniki…" Ojama Yellow choked out weakly as the Osiris head held his first Spirit Partners tightly to his chest, in a rare display of unabashed affection.

"We're…sorry…we couldn't…do more…" Ojama Black added feebly; the Green brother merely nodded, as the monster's strike had resulted in his mouth getting partially smashed in.

"Shhh…aibou…" Manjoume whispered, utilizing that rarest of admonishments for the tiny spirits that had more or less singlehandedly ensured the escape of every student on the island. "You did plenty. Now's the time to rest."

Zaruug and Meanae, who had come up to join their master just outside of the creature's main path, nodded plaintively. The former Star Assassin's Shadow Charm glowed as it restored the Ojamas to their original, incorporeal state – at the very least, robbing them of their mortal injuries.

Still, the mutant brothers were definitely out of this battle for good.

With just himself and the Black Scorpion leaders left, Jun Manjoume began to adjust his mental stratagems to include retreat. But another quick peek at the opposite horizon scrapped that plan almost immediately; the boats loaded with his students were still quite visible on the brim of the ocean, which meant only one thing.

"Yo, ugly!" he shouted, running out to a point where he was sure that the monster could see him and waving his arms wildly. "Had enough fun pussying around with Spirits, or are you finally ready to go one on one with Manjoume-sanda?"

While he was nowhere near a match for this thing, stalling for time was all that mattered right now, and it'd demonstrated a severe lack of attention span throughout the course of its assault. And sure enough, the creature took only a moment to alter its course toward the Osiris head, trudging blindly forward with the clear intention of murdering this persistent nuisance.

Jun, for his part, was now hastily sprinting in another direction; his preference would be to get the titanic monster to follow him, if only so that he might distract it from noticing the ships in the distance.

Don Zaruug was helping by laying a constant stream of gunfire into the creature's oozing carapace from an entirely different angle. The bullets were, of course, having no effect, but at the very least they were giving the beast pause as to which target it should pursue.

To Manjoume's horror, however, the monster emerged from a mere second of indecision by turning back toward Zaruug and Meanae. Evidently, the fact that they had weapons at all, even ones that posed absolutely no threat to it, was enough to move them to the top of the creature's "things to kill" list.

Jun shouted himself hoarse trying to goad the abomination into returning its attention to him, but it was no use; the last two Black Scorpions, apparently sensing that they were at far too close of a range to escape the beast's wrath, pulled together for one last tender kiss as the monster's hellish fire incinerated them utterly.

Zaruug's Shadow Charm flew from the point where the couple was struck down, having been thrown by the former Star Assassin at the last moment, and Manjoume dived to catch it.

Unfortunately, this appeared to re-alert the creature to the black-coated professor's presence, and with great effort it turned back to the last man standing, a bestial sense of excitement alight within its empty eyes at the prospect of finally completing its massacre of the island.

Jun, for his part, stood resolute in the face of the monster, his hands shaking and his face sweating but his composure nonetheless remaining even, in emulation of the final pair of his Spirit Partners to fall.

"Get out of here, guys," he muttered to the browbeaten spirits still hovering weakly around his shoulders, but the Ojama brothers shook their heads.

"We're not…abandoning you…aniki…" said Ojama Yellow. "If you're gonna…sacrifice yourself…to make sure…those kids…get out safe…"

"Then we're…with you…" Ojama Black finished gravely.

And so, it was with a heavy heart – and tightly shut eyes – that Jun Manjoume stood his ground against this gargantuan agent of Death, readying himself for the blast of hellfire that would signal the end of his life.

But that blast never came.

Instead, when Manjoume opened his eyes, he was surrounded by an incomprehensible blackness…one which stretched on for miles and miles in every direction.

The Osiris head knew that he should be frightened by this sudden turn of events, and yet the Darkness seemed almost…calming.

Warm to the touch.

Familiar.

Several hands reached out to Jun Manjoume and the Ojama Trio from the deepest portions of the void, and without conscious thought he grasped onto them tightly, letting himself be pulled into the abyss and away from an increasingly perplexed creature…

One which had suddenly found itself without victims for the first time since its arrival on Academia Island.

[-]

Dawn greeted the residents of Zora Laruto's apartment with a tender glow that seemed almost alien amidst the chaos and destruction that now plagued Satellite. And as its soft rays began to rouse them from their slumber, they reacted in a multitude of different ways.

Ruka, for her part, woke to find herself crying her eyes out. And, perhaps most strangely of all, she had absolutely no idea why.

Rua, who was curled up next to his sister, was stirred awake by her soft sobs, and rubbing his own eyes he asked, "What's wrong, sis?"

Ruka pondered upon this question for a while. She'd never been particularly skilled at recalling the events of her dreams, but as she concentrated deeply she thought she could hear the distant echoes of dozens of screams, crying out in desperate agony.

"It…It's nothing, Rua," she muttered evasively, now deeply disconcerted. He arched an eyebrow and stared at her hard, however, so after a few moments she finally sighed and gave in. "It's the Spirits. I think…I think I heard a big group of them somewhere far away…dying…"

The female twin's voice rang hollow at this concept; clearly, the very idea that a Duel Spirit could die, much less so many at once, was scaring her breathless. Rua's kneejerk response – a vaguely humorous quip about how his sister had "sensed a disturbance in the Force" – fell away long before it could reach his lips, and instead he gave her a short hug and placed a hand on her shoulder.

"Go back to bed, Ruka," he said. "There's no point in getting all worried. It could all just be a dream, right?"

"It wasn't a dream," Ruka insisted. "When I close my eyes and focus, I can start to see their faces – broken, mutilated, dead faces. It's…It's not right! They're not right!"

Ruka positively screamed these last two lines, quite beside herself in distress, and her brother became quite thankful that the sliding door to their makeshift bedroom was tightly shut. As it was, Rua offered his embrace once more, this time without letting go.

"Tell me what you see," he told her calmly. "I may not be able to sense Spirits like you can, but maybe I can help talk you through it."

It did not even once occur to Ruka to disobey this request. The mental anguish flooding into her heart from the souls of thirty-plus deceased Duel Spirits was rapidly breaking her resolve, and so for the moment she allowed herself to melt into her brother's calming hold.

"It's…hard to describe," she choked out. "It's like…like I'm being forced to watch a car wreck in slow motion, over and over again…and not just seeing the damage, but feeling it too. And it hurts…"

"How are you even sensing all this so clearly, though?" Rua couldn't help but ask. "I mean, didn't you just say that this was going on far away?"

"These…weren't natural deaths, Rua," said Ruka, her lip clenched in sorrow. "Wherever they were, I can tell that those Duel Spirits were killed – murdered, by something really awful. It isn't too surprising that they'd scream out in pain. And, well…I guess I'm just unusually good at picking up their signals."

"Do you…err…have any idea who the 'killer' might be?" continued Rua, somewhat awkwardly.

Ruka concentrated harder on the hazy, horrific images now swimming through her mind's eye. Somehow, talking the matter over with her brother in this manner was making it somewhat easier to deal with.

"I think that I see an…outline, at least," she murmured. "It's enormous, and the Spirits are all regarding it with fear, so I'm pretty sure it's the thing that murdered them. But what…?"

Suddenly, a flash of spiritual insight struck the young Signer's subconscious, and instantly the foreboding silhouette was illuminated in all of its hellish glory, as if dramatically revealed by an ominous bolt of lightning.

"It was that thing that tried to attack us earlier!" Ruka cried out, her mouth agape. "The King of the Underworld!"

"Gaaah!" Rua yelped, his eyelids shooting fully open in fear. "So you mean that after taking apart the Satellite and Neo Domino City, that monster started going off on a Duel Spirit killing spree?!"

"Well, I'm not sure the Spirits were part of the King's original objective," replied Ruka. "I can sense a huge buildup of mystical energy around the place where this happened. Definitely some kind of spiritual locus. I'm guessing the King of the Underworld is probably drawn to them, like other Spirits are."

Rua regarded her with a blank look at this, so she explained, "A spiritual locus is a place where Spirits can cross freely between their World and ours. The Black Hills in America, Stonehenge in England, Uluru in Australia, Mangalagiri in India…all of them are places where Duel Spirits have gathered throughout history. Wherever this King just attacked, I'm certain it was one of these sorts of spots."

"Wait…so if this creature's drawn to places where there's tons of spiritual power, then couldn't we…well, track it like that? Maybe?" said Rua.

"You know…that's not a bad idea," Ruka responded, wiping her eyes with the edge of her sleeve. "It'd certainly help to know where the King of the Underworld is heading, and I probably could pin it down if my theory's correct."

Ruka closed her eyes and placed one hand across her mark, which began to radiate crimson light.

"I'm going to leave my body for the moment – try and track this thing down to see what it's up to," she added, a determined look across her face. "But it's going to be really dangerous, so if I start to thrash around or something, bring my soul back immediately. Pinch me, hit me with cold water, whatever…just give me a big shock if it gets too bad."

"You got it, sis. I'm here for you," Rua assured her, not letting go of her tiny form as it went limp and her eyes glazed over, no longer inhabited by the essence of her soul.

[-]

While the directions that Sherry had provided him were rather vague, Yusei Fudo had no issue locating the Leblanc family helipad; the vehicle parked atop it was quite large and making quite a bit of noise.

Sherry was already there, loading her steed-like D-Wheel into a large rear compartment with the help of a Japanese gentleman whom Yusei now knew to be Kenji Mizoguchi. As the engine in the helicopter began to die down, however, the sound of Yusei's motorcycle became far more noticeable, and both figures turned toward him.

Hastily, Yusei dismounted and pulled off his helmet, offering his gloved hand to the broad-shouldered butler.

His thick eyebrows rose up slowly as he appraised the younger man, before accepting the gesture and saying in calm, measured tones, "You must be Yusei Fudo: the man who came out of nowhere to win the Fortune Cup a few months ago. My name is Kenji Mizoguchi, and I am pleased to finally meet you."

"You'd heard of him already?" responded Sherry with surprise. "I thought his name rung a bell, but…"

"You might do well to better remember the names of tournament champions, my lady. Even ones who triumph outside your sphere of purview," Mizoguchi told her. "After all, any of them could turn out to be a potential opponent someday…or a potential ally, as is the case here."

"There is truth in that, I suppose," Sherry admitted as she finished rolling her D-Wheel into the helicopter's trunk. "But in any event, it's time for us to depart. We can exchange more plaisanteries on the way to Neo Domino."

"Impatience is not a becoming trait for you, my lady," said Mizoguchi pointedly, but he helped load Yusei's D-Wheel into the helicopter and then entered the cockpit all the same. Yusei followed Sherry silently into the passenger area and strapped himself in, watching with interest as Mizoguchi expertly executed takeoff with all the composure of a military pilot.

There was evidently quite a bit more to this "majordome" than met the eye, and Yusei resolved to find out what.

Before Yusei could ask any of the questions burgeoning within his mind, however, Mizoguchi beat him to the punch. "Tell me about our mission here, Fudo-san," he stated. "I wish to be prepared for whatever lies ahead."

Acknowledging that this was certainly a fair question – that Sherry had eagerly volunteered them for it didn't change the fact that Yusei was bringing two non-Signers into very serious danger – Yusei sighed and began to explain.

"Can I assume you've got the same basic understanding of the Signer and Dark Signer situation as Sherry?" he asked.

"Given that I was the one who explained their history to her in the first place…I should think so," answered Mizoguchi.

Filing that information away in his head for later, Yusei went on, "I'm the leader of the current generation of Signers, based in Neo Domino City. My counterparts were – at least in the beginning – a scientist named Rudger Goodwin, my best friend Jack Atlas, a young woman called Aki Izayoi, and a little girl named Ruka. However…well, Yliaster screwed up that situation pretty quickly."

Predictably, the mention of her nemesis caused Sherry's attention to perk up sharply. "Explain that comment," she ordered. "The account you provided for me lacked…détails."

"Alright, I'll…do what I can," said Yusei, sighing again. Repeating this story was beginning to take a bit of the emotional edge off of it, but the bite of what'd happened to Jack still remained.

"Now, I don't know too much about everything that happened. But almost eighteen years ago, an agent of Yliaster appeared to Rudger Goodwin when he traveled to the Nazca Lines for research," Yusei explained to them. "This agent manipulated Rudger into reversing the polarity on the original Momentum reactor, making it release energy uncontrollably. That's what set off Zero Reverse."

"We've gathered at least that much – that Yliaster were the ones pulling the strings behind the disaster," Sherry replied. "But what, précisément, does this have to do with you and the other Signers?"

"The negative energy from Zero Reverse transformed Rudger from a Signer into the first Dark Signer," continued Yusei. "Before he overloaded the reactor, Rudger amputated the arm with his Dragon's birthmark. This left the spider Jibakushin free to take over his soul once it was freed. The arm, meanwhile, was given to Rudger's younger brother Rex."

"I have heard much of this Rex Goodwin," said Mizoguchi, his tones sharp and disdainful. "And none of it good. Am I to understand that he perpetuated genocide in Peru in pursuit of an experiment? That's what that muscular man you dueled at the Fortune Cup told the crowd."

"That man – Bommer – was at least…partially mistaken," Yusei responded. "It was actually the Dark Signers who destroyed his village, in order to gather souls to power the Earthbound Gods. I guess they must've left some sort of evidence implicating Goodwin, since as far as Rudger knew his brother was gathering and aiding the Signers. Having a vengeful assassin after his blood could prove useful."

"What do you mean by 'as far as he knew'?" demanded Sherry.

"Goodwin wasn't satisfied with how his brother wanted things to play out," Yusei told her, trying to sound as if he knew these things for certain rather than from the secondhand account of a ghost. "Instead, he played both sides of the War, trying to gather the powers of both Light and Darkness into himself and become a god. Though what happened to Bommer's village wasn't his fault, Rex Goodwin was responsible for hundreds of other crimes in pursuit of that goal."

"I noticed the use of past tense there, monsieur," Sherry pointed out. Yusei made a mental note of her verbal acumen; she was evidently quite talented at picking apart people's stories, and fishing out suspicious turns of phrase.

"Goodwin is dead, as of last night," Yusei declared, confirming her suspicions. "He battled against another Dark Signer for control of his power, and lost. In fact, that's the Dark Signer we're traveling to Japan to confront."

"Let's have some details on this enemy, then," said Mizoguchi. "Starting with a precise explanation of this term 'Dark Signer.' From context, it's fairly clear that they're something of a rough equivalent to the Signers, but for the Earthbound Gods rather than the Crimson Dragon. But beyond that, I remain confused."

"That's pretty much the basics of it," Yusei replied. "Since fighting the Crimson Dragon directly didn't work the first time around, the Earthbound Gods have taken to possessing corpses of people who died with vengeance in their Hearts. They mark them with their own evil signs, and steal any humanity their hosts used to have in life. They leave nothing else but Darkness."

Yusei had to pause for a moment to hang his head and take a deep breath. His hopes that repetition might make this easier to deal with weren't being borne out very well.

"As I stated before, the first Dark Signer was Rudger Goodwin," Yusei went on after a little while, his face still dipped low. "After that came a brutish man named Demak, and the world-famous model Misty Lola. Then an…an old friend of mine, Kiryu Kyosuke."

A lump formed in Yusei's throat, and he had to take a few more deep breaths before continuing.

"That was the end of it until just about a month ago," he said. "At that point a young woman named Carly Nagisa died, and was resurrected by the hummingbird Jibakushin. I didn't know that at the time, though. I just knew the Dark Signers had awakened and were threatening my home, and was convinced by Goodwin to lead the Signers and stop them."

"I take it you were not entirely successful," Sherry quipped dryly.

"Depends on how you define 'success,' I guess," responded Yusei, the lump in his throat growing larger as he neared the portion of the story he'd purposefully been avoiding. "Rudger, Demak, Kiryu, and Misty were all defeated – and their gods killed – within a single night. So was Bommer, who the Dark Signers brought in as a last-minute replacement. And we also managed to seal the control towers that prevented the Jibakushin's master, the King of the Underworld, from coming to Earth. But…"

"But one of the Dark Signers you mentioned previously is still unaccounted for," said Mizoguchi. "What exactly happened with this 'Carly'?"

"We were running on a strict time limit, because the control towers were only going to be effective up until sunset," Yusei explained. "So we…decided to split up. Ruka and her twin brother Rua faced off with Demak, Aki went up against Misty, my friend Crow Hogan intercepted Bommer, and I dueled both Kiryu and Rudger. But…well, I…you see…"

"Spit it out, attardé," Sherry interjected impatiently. "En procédant par élimination, that leaves Jack Atlas to have gone up against Carly Nagisa. Evidently, something happened during that duel that you are uncomfortable discussing. So stop beating around la putain de brousse and tell us already."

"Okay, okay…" murmured Yusei, his voice throaty and hoarse as he steeled himself to provide the revelation. "While I wasn't present at the time, I can only assume that Carly won her match. And in a Yami no Duel, the punishment for losing…is Death."

"I believe I now see what you've been getting at," said Mizoguchi. "As it would be unkind to force you to speak this truth directly, I shall deduce the remainder of the story from the facts you've presented. Your friend and noted pro-duelist Jack Atlas faced off against Carly Nagisa…and lost, causing him to die. She then used her own powers to transform him into a Dark Signer as well, and it is he whom we are now moving to oppose. Am I correct in this?"

"Y…Yes," Yusei admitted after a lengthy beat of silence, unable to look them in the eye as his fists clenched tightly onto his jeans.

Eventually, he came back to himself enough to add, "It's just as you say. Jack has been taken by the Earthbound Gods and renamed himself the 'Dark King' of the world. And with all the powers of Hell at his disposal, Jack is going to be nigh-invincible. That's why I came here to try and track down that Z-One card – I hoped it might give the Signers an edge in the War to come. But God only knows if it'll really help."

Yusei shuddered and ceased speaking; that explanation had stretched the absolute limits of his composure. Instead he buried his face in his hands, while Sherry merely turned to the window and retrieved the Magic Card in question from her pocket, stroking it absentmindedly as they passed the iron apex of the Eiffel Tower.

Mizoguchi, for his part, simply took all of this information in with the stoic and mission-centered attitude he'd developed well at Interpol, dropping into muted silence as well as he carefully piloted their helicopter toward the eastern border of France.

[-]

"So…you're absolutely sure you're duelists?" asked Andore Porthos, unable to believe what he was hearing.

"Of course we are!" Yoshizo Hayashi shouted, clearly offended. "Why is that so hard for you to accept?"

"My apologies…I've just never seen a serious duelist that actually uses stuff like…Key Mace…" said Andore, unable to keep a low snicker out of his voice as he mentioned the low-level Normal Monster. Looking back at the entirely staid faces of the three latest "applicants" to their movement, however, proved too much for Andore's composure, and finally he burst into a stream of wild laughter.

"Again…I'm sorry," continued Andore after a little while, breathing heavily through the mirth. "I really don't mean to ridicule you guys, but…well, to be frank…the decks you just showed me are pure shit."

Jinbei moved forward, his face lined with fury, but Taro held him back.

"Look, we didn't just drive all this way crammed together on a single fucking motorcycle, just to take this kind of crap!" the blue-haired teenager yelled, ignoring the fact that he'd voiced precisely those same objections himself only a couple hours prior. "We're offering you our help, so would it fucking kill you to show a little fucking gratitude?"

"Fine, fine…I apologize for a third time," Andore replied, finally sobering up and turning stern. "In that case, you justify your presence here. We need all the help we can get, that's true, but we're not just bringing in anyone off the streets. I have to be certain we can rely on you three to pull your weight around here."

"Well, for one thing, we brought a fairly decent amount of food," said Taro, gesturing to their heavily loaded sidecar. "That should already prove we aren't useless. And for another, while I admit our cards aren't exactly the…greatest ones ever printed, we more than make up for that with team strategy. You're a member of a pro-dueling team – you should at least value that much."

Taro Yamashita pointed with particular emphasis to the two Effect Monsters amongst the motley bunch, and Andore obligingly gave Holding-Hands Majin and Sleeping Giant – Zushin another look.

"A stall deck, then," the redhead muttered, understanding now the point of the various high-DEF monsters within their low-budget forces. "I suppose that makes sense, if you're trying to summon Zushin. Not that I know any duelist that'd be naïve enough to try."

"Okay, so maybe Zushin isn't exactly easy to summon…" Yoshizo began, but Andore cut him off.

"Try impossible," he responded. "Not one single person in the history of Duel Monsters has ever done it. Why go through all the effort, when most duels end before twenty turns are up anyway? Hell, Countdown to the End takes the same amount of time to resolve its effect, and it automatically wins you the game. Same with Exodia and Ouija Board, for that matter…except they typically take even less time."

"Fine, fine, we get it," said Taro, somewhat testily. "Compared with a fancy pro-duelist who can buy any card he wants, this bunch of random commons we've scrounged up might seem like nothing."

Despite this admission, however, the young duelist didn't look at all downcast or depressed. Indeed, his eyes were alight with clear determination.

"Still…I hope you can at least appreciate the idea of three no-name farmboys scraping together everything they've got," he continued. "Here we are, in an unfamiliar city in the middle of a War, for no other reason than because we want to help. That's why our decks are the way they are. Holding-Hands Majin represents the unbreakable bonds that tie our friendship together, and Zushin represents the culmination of all our hard work – all the power of a god, if not the rarest one."

Andore appeared to be mulling the subject over, before he broke into a wide grin and chuckled a bit.

"I'll admit…you've at least got the right attitude for the job," he told them, handing Taro back the cards he'd been examining. "Alright, you've convinced me. Welcome to our resistance. If we actually get to dueling in the future, we probably won't be putting you three on the frontlines…but I'm sure there's something we can trust you guys with."

"Thank you, sir!" exclaimed Yoshizo, rushing over to enthusiastically shake Andore's hand, all enmity apparently forgotten. "And let me just say that I've always been a huge fan of your genius playstyle! Err…could I, maybe…have an autograph?"

Just as Andore was about to oblige this flattering (if rather oddly timed) request, however, Jinbei called their attention to the horizon.

"Uh…guys?" he said. "I think that you might wanna keep an eye on this."

And sure enough, from the direction he was pointing, the others quickly noticed a panting, heavily injured Security Officer running toward them at a pace that seemed unwise, given the sheer amount of blood now pouring from his body.

He was a young man, with lumpy hair a shade of dull turquoise, and largely unremarkable when compared with any other policeman you might find in such a city.

Which, of course, made the slowly advancing squadron of half-a-dozen zombies pursuing him all the more striking.

Perhaps they were inspired by Andore's prior dismissal of their abilities, or perhaps they were every bit the valiant heroes they painted themselves as. But whatever the reason, without a single word the trio jumped straight into action, grabbing discarded pipes from a nearby pile of debris and fending off the ghouls.

The Security Officer took advantage of the opening, lumbering forward and managing to reach Andore with what was evidently the last of his strength.

"Take…drive…" was all he managed to utter before collapsing into the redhead's arms, exhausted and bleeding profusely.

Andore did not speak either, but merely propped the man's unconscious form against the wall of Always and arming himself with two pipes of his own, joining in with the three younger men as they batted away the shambling wraiths with every ounce of strength they had.

Fortunately, the armada that'd been chasing the mysterious Officer had been relatively small – otherwise, Andore was absolutely certain that all four duelists would be quite thoroughly dead – so working in concert they struck the soulless monsters down one by one, forcing them to the ground by sheer battery and then smashing their sunken heads in with unrestrained vigor.

When the last pipe struck dead flesh in a satisfying burst of rotting flesh, the pipes clanged to the ground as the quartet bent over and grasped their knees for support, gasping from overexertion.

"About…what I said…earlier…" Andore huffed, wiping sweat from his brow. "I'm upgrading…your status…from 'maybe useful'…to 'fucking badasses.'"

Too worn out to speak much in return, the rural trio flashed three simultaneous thumbs-up and picked up the fainted Security Officer by the head and feet, carrying him through the door that Andore opened with the push of a button and taking the next step forward, toward their new Destinies.

[-]

Like Ruka, Crow Hogan awoke to find his face covered in tears. Unlike his fellow Signer, however, he was able to pinpoint the source of his distress almost immediately.

The dream had been quite vivid; indeed, nightmarishly so. It had, after all, essentially been an extension of the vision he'd experienced after escaping that creepy black fog, wherein each of his kids had run into his arms, only to fade into smoke before their hands could touch.

To put it mildly, the dream in question had taken that image and…ran with it. The sheer volume of gruesome and appalling deaths that his subconscious had played out for him over the past few hours was almost too horrifying for Crow to recall.

Which brought the orange-haired young man to this particular moment: staring up at the ceiling and shaking in his bed, trying to piece together his more rational thoughts on the subject.

He was ashamed – no, revolted – about how little thought he'd afforded Kokoro, Taiga, Ginga, Daichi, and Hikari since his duel with Bommer.

Admittedly, a lot had happened in the interim, but that was no excuse. The last he could remember consciously wondering about their wellbeing had been after Uru was blown to smithereens…and the conclusion he'd reached had been that if they'd indeed returned to life by that action, then Martha would be able to take care of them.

But of course, that'd evidently turned out not to be true. Only the five kids that'd been staying with Martha in the first place – plus Rally's group – had reappeared in the matron's charge.

Meaning either that his children hadn't been inside the spider to begin with…or that they'd been released in an entirely different location, lost and hungry and alone in this land that was rapidly descending into Hell.

Crow shivered at the thought, and most particularly at how incredibly likely it seemed. True, Kokoro and the others could simply be trapped within the one remaining Earthbound God (or the two remaining ones, if Jack somehow turned out to have his own). But Crow couldn't be sure.

And as long as there was at least a sliver of hope that those kids might be out there somewhere, Crow had to take that chance.

Taking great care not to wake any of the other occupants of the garage, Crow began gathering a few tools they'd set aside while clearing space for the beds and other furniture, carrying them out the door and into an abandoned machine shop across the street.

The Blackbird might be lying in two pieces halfway across Satellite, but nothing was stopping Crow from building a new D-Wheel from the equipment just sitting around here.

After all, if he was going to attempt a rescue mission in this zombie-infested wasteland…he was going to need all the mobility he could get.

[-]

Carly Nagisa emerged from her room early the next morning, her cloak billowing behind her as she headed straight for the Dark Signers' meeting room. The Hikari no Yami had taught her so much in such a short space of time, and she was quite eager to alter her comrades' undoubtedly low first impressions of her.

The sniveling idiot who'd been unable to utter even a single word without a sobbing stutter had died forever last night, and the person who remained pushed open the double doors with a flourish, ready to make a grand speech of epiphany and revelation.

Unfortunately, there was no audience present.

The following hour and four minutes gave Carly ample time to familiarize herself with the Dark Signers' headquarters, as she searched for her "colleagues" in vain.

Several times she wondered if her that her fellow emissaries of Darkness might simply be in their respective bedchambers – the only places in the entire complex that she couldn't enter without permission – but the part of her mind that was wholly one with Aslla piscu knew this to be unlikely.

As the Dark Signers slumbered only when their gods required them to conserve energy, and the power levels of each of the Jibakushin were currently precisely equal, if she hadn't overslept then it made absolutely no sense for them to. And it wasn't like there was all that much to do besides sleep in those quarters.

Carly found the answer to her conundrum when she happened upon one of the lower levels of the base, in what could conceivably be called a garage. In reality, it appeared to be a mechanic's wet dream: a massive expanse of virtually every tool and mechanical apparatus known to man (and a few that weren't), all surrounding a long line of pristine, professional-looking D-Wheels.

Kiryu was bent over a golden motorcycle, evidently deep in thought as he tinkered with its exposed engine, while Rudger, Demak, and Misty observed coolly from the side. A few moments passed before Demak noticed Carly and pointed her out to Rudger, who leered.

"Finally up, my dear?" said the Dark Signer leader. "I didn't think it would take you this long to get your bearings on our headquarters. Future tests of your abilities will require you to be far more…timely."

"Oh, shut the hell up," Misty snapped, scowling at him.

Kiryu and Demak had been placated after her abrupt attack the previous night by an apology, and by a promise to buy them each something nice during her next excursion to the outside world. Neither of them could manage the focus necessary to glamour their eyes like a living humans, so whether they liked it or not they needed to stay in her good graces if they wanted the occasional new book or CD.

Rudger, however, didn't care about such things. He didn't care about much at all beyond the mission, really. Eighteen years of undeath had stripped away nearly everything that'd once been human from Rudger Goodwin, and on those rare occasions that his old self showed through it was only in the basest and most savage of ways.

In truth, she didn't think he'd enjoyed the sex he'd coerced from her as "compensation" any more than she had, at least on its own. But it was another way to assert his dominance amongst their little "family," and in truth that was really all he had left these days.

Didn't make her any less pissed off about it, of course.

"Did you sleep well, Carly?" she added to the girl still standing in the doorway, trying to push that all out of her mind and smile.

"Indeed I did," Carly answered, already projecting an aura of confidence that contrasted sharply from the trembling image she'd given off earlier. "And I have, both figuratively and literally, 'seen the Light' over the past fortnight. Now I'm finally ready to accept my mission in the obliteration of this imperfect world, so that the paradise of Hell may rise to take its place."

Kiryu's insane laugh was as predictable as it was obnoxious, though Demak maintained a neutral expression, his eyes not darting away from the D-Wheel the younger man was working on.

Misty's face, however, positively lit up in response to this pronouncement; this was, after all, essentially the culmination of all of the effort she'd put forth in caring for and nurturing Carly, even back when she'd been a worthless human.

Rudger, meanwhile, merely raised a bemused eyebrow before letting loose a low, throaty chuckle.

"Had a sudden change of heart, have we Miss Nagisa?" asked Rudger, a sick grin spreading across his face. "Considering your pathetic performance last night, any alteration to your behavior could only be a positive one. Still…this newfound enthusiasm is far more than I expected. So you'll forgive me if I am slightly…skeptical."

The scarlet-cloaked Dark Signer sauntered over to his newest recruit as he said this, placing a hand upon her shoulder and patting it mockingly a few times.

Acting on impulse, Carly's gloved fingers shot upward and grasped his muscular forearm, and with a mental prod from Aslla piscu she wrenched it clean out of its socket, before bringing her other hand up to strike Rudger across the face with enough force to send him sprawling to the ground.

"Does that remove your skepticism?" she demanded coldly.

"Sure as fuck removes mine!" exclaimed Kiryu, now on his back with laughter. "Anyone who can stick it to the spider-man like that is okay in my book, bitch!"

"I must concur with my…comrade, Carly," Misty stated approvingly, placing a comforting arm around her fellow female's shoulder. "I've been desperately wanting to do something like that for months. Thank you for saving me the trouble."

Rudger, for his part, was visibly collecting himself on the floor, adjusting his jaw and then carefully sliding his humerus back into the joint; quite grateful toward his god for removing the excruciating pain that'd normally be associated with such an action.

Once the damage was sufficiently repaired, however, Carly – who'd been expecting the worst – was instead greeted by the Dark Signer leader's own uproarious laughter, punctuated by him repeatedly slamming his fist against the floor.

"I honestly never thought you'd have it in you, little Carly," Rudger declared, still chortling madly. "It's a good thing you didn't try that little trick with my other arm, though. Then you probably would've ended up blowing this entire room to bits."

"You placed a bomb in your prosthetic arm?" demanded Carly, her dark eyes widening. "Why the hell would you do that?"

"You never know when certain things might come in handy, my dear," replied Rudger. "But enough about that. The point is, our family is finally all gathered together, and on…roughly the same page. This is a glorious day, and one which deserves celebration. From this hour onward, the end of the world grows nigh."

"Sounds good to me – never needed much of an excuse to party!" Kiryu shouted out, still tinkering meticulously on the motorcycle before him. "Flip on some Who, will ya Carly? Moon's drum rolls always put me in the right mood for this sort of thing."

Turning around, the former reporter noticed for the first time that she was standing right next to the silver-haired man's stereo system. "CD changer setting number four," he added, and Carly shrugged her shoulders and obliged.

A melodic but dramatic keyboard solo immediately greeted her ears, and she beamed in response; Western rock had always been a favorite of hers.

"What's going on here, anyway?" Carly asked after a few moments. "I was under the impression that most of our operations were confined to the meeting room."

"That is normally true," said Demak, tugging back his hood and affording Carly the first smile she'd ever seen adorn his face. "However, this morning we agreed to perform some routine maintenance on our fleet of D-Wheels. With our final confrontations with the Signers looming, those of us who wind up participating in Riding Duels will need to be ready."

"What's with this 'we' business, Mister Monkey?" interjected Kiryu, though his demeanor was still fairly light and humorous. "So far, it's pretty much just been me doing all the work, and the rest of you sitting on your lazy asses and watching. Think I'm gonna have to file a lawsuit if this shoddy treatment and lack of appreciation keep holding up. Or should I just join the Evil Minions' Union and formally petition my grievances?"

This quip finally proved too much for Carly's composure, and with wild abandon she broke into her own shrill laughter, before getting down and examining the part that Kiryu was focusing on with such intensity.

"Do you need any help with this?" she asked.

"Well, not really…but I suppose if you really want to…" said Kiryu, clearly caught off-guard by her offer. "Well, err…I guess holding this engine in place would be a big help. I need to remove it from the frame, but still keep it elevated at roughly the same height."

Carly did as instructed, and with a far soberer expression than she'd ever before observed on his face, Kiryu made the necessary repair, grinning in relief as the final bolt tightened into place.

"You're not bad for such a green assistant, Carly," he told her, if somewhat grudgingly. "Mind sticking around to help with the others? I've got a hefty workload here today, especially with constructing your D-Wheel from scratch."

"M…Mine?" Carly stammered in surprise.

"But of course," said Rudger with a wave of his hand. "What Demak stated is an absolute: all of our members will need to be adequately prepared to face off against our enemies, whether by Ground or by Riding Duel. You will work with Kiryu on assembling your D-Wheel, and then participate in regular riding exercises with him each week. This will be just one component of your training over the course of the month that remains until the Day of Judgment."

"What will the others be…sir?" asked Carly, hastily adding the honorific; she might've earned the Dark Signer leader's respect by attacking him, but it still couldn't hurt to be polite if they were going to be working together from now on.

"Oh, everything you would expect," Rudger answered, chuckling slightly again. "Strategy meetings with me, deck-building exercises with Demak, practice in the use of your powers with Misty…plus regular 'team-building' sessions with the entire group. Rest assured, this will be a highly grueling period in your new life…but I trust that you are up to it."

Looking around at the motley crew that was her new "family," all of whom were staring at her intently, Carly returned Rudger's maniacal grin and responded, "Absolutely."

And in the background, the English voice which she could not understand but which spoke to her on a deeper level all the same reached the crescendo of its vocal performance, shouting passionately across the room occupied by the very messengers of death:

"The Exodus is here, the happy ones are near! Let's get together, before we get much older…"

[-]

Carly awoke to a mind-splitting headache, which in and of itself was exceedingly strange. Pain wasn't something she'd had to worry about much ever since her death, as the hummingbird that'd resurrected her typically took on such burdens itself.

Evidently, however, the injury caused by the errant bullet had been severe enough to limit Aslla piscu's ability to both repair the damage and remove the pain.

In any event, if Carly had known that getting shot would hurt this much, she would've made a greater effort to dodge. But that was just water under the bridge at this point, she supposed.

Jack was still out cold from the condor's brief possession, but Carly didn't mind waiting; her Dark King was absolutely stunning when he slept.

In truth, part of the reason she'd acquiesced so readily to his demand to take her own bedroom from her was that she was virtually guaranteed (by virtue of her lumpy and uneven couch) to wake up first every morning. Which, naturally, gave her the opportunity to observe his majestic form as the first rays of golden sun struck it at the onset of each dawn.

In any event, it took only about half-an-hour of Carly's silent vigil for her husband to come to, shaking his head groggily as he muttered, "Please don't tell me that's going to become a regular occurrence."

"By Aslla piscu, I hope not," said Carly, shivering involuntarily. While she had nothing but respect for the immense power that being Wiraqocha Rasca's host afforded the Dark King, the few moments that she'd witnessed his body being used directly as a puppet by the immortal condor had been nightmarishly horrifying.

Even for her, there was something about those glowing eyes and bulging veins that'd been unbearably…unnatural…

"So, umm…do you know what Wiraqocha Rasca's plan was in placing that worthless coward in your Thrall, Jack?" she asked, deciding to change the subject slightly.

"My god desires…minions," Jack answered shakily, holding onto a bedpost for support. "A few forces that're a little more mobile than the King of the Underworld or the wraiths it summoned. And while that 'Garome' may be a fool, I do agree with the condor that he should be quite useful for this task. His criminal connections render him ideally placed to search out humans with Hearts of Darkness, as should the increased senses that my Jibakushin bestowed upon him."

"When you say 'minions'…" whispered Carly, biting her lip.

"I don't mean additional Dark Signers, no," Jack cut in, correctly surmising the source of her apprehension. "They seem to be more in line with the drones who were taken over by Rudger's spiders – like Ushio, on that fateful day we dueled. You'll notice that his sclera retained their original color, for example."

"Ah…alright then," murmured Carly, her lip curling upward at the allusion to the day she and her Dark King had first met.

His answer reassured her, if only slightly. If these prospective minions were to be more in the line of servants and less of equals, it made accepting their nigh-inevitable deaths quite a bit easier.

She didn't think she could stand forming attachments to any other friends, only to lose them once again. The dream she'd just experienced, and the memories it'd rekindled of Demak, Kiryu, and Misty-san, certainly weren't helping in this regard.

"Now, enough about that. How are you feeling, my Queen?" Jack added, his rough hand moving tenderly over her forehead. The brief moment that the bullet had connected, before Aslla piscu had moved to heal the wound, had frightened Jack completely out of his mind; he was building this new world for her and for her alone, and if she was to fade away from him once more…

"I'm…ugh…fine…" said Carly, entirely unconvincingly; the pain within her skull had chosen a very inopportune time to spike once again.

Knowing that there was nothing of real significance he could do to speed along her recovery – that task was the sole responsibility of the hummingbird – the Dark King simply grasped her hand tightly and kissed her lightly on the cheek.

"While you heal, why don't I…err…tell you a story?" Jack asked after a lengthy pause. He wasn't sure where those words had come from, and they sounded strange upon his tongue, but he didn't rescind them. He wanted to do something for her.

Carly herself raised an eyebrow at the suggestion, but eventually leaned into him and nodded slightly, her eyes drooping. "That…sounds nice, actually," she replied. "What kind of story is it?"

"Why don't I just get right to it? I detest lengthy introductions," Jack declared, before softening his tone and launching into the tale. "Once there was a beautiful princess who, by some cruel twist of Fate, had ended up in a village of commoners. Lost and alone, the young princess soon forgot about her royal heritage, and instead took up the craft of writing – informing citizens across the kingdom of everything that was going on within it. But all that time, a small part of still remembered that she was destined for greater things, and so she secretly longed to escape the tedium of her everyday life."

"Hold on a minute," Carly interjected. "I can tell a self-insert fanfic when I hear one. Hell, I've written more than I'd ever admit to."

"Fan…fic?" asked Jack, clearly having no idea what in the world she was talking about. His wife just giggled in response.

"Oh, never mind," she said with a smile, wincing slightly from the strain the laughter had put on her body. "Go on with your story. I mean, just because I've figured out what you're doing…doesn't mean I find the description of 'princess' any less flattering."

"Err…right…" Jack responded, still somewhat wrong-footed.

Eventually, however, he cleared his throat and went on, "One day, the king of the land, himself having been a commoner in the distant past, descended upon the princess' village. He'd been deposed from his throne by a challenger who had once been his friend, and so he required a new place to call his home."

Carly relaxed further as she buried her head against his chest, her smile widening.

"Being unused to common courtesy, the king barged into the princess' cottage and forcibly carved out a place for himself in her home," continued Jack, now stroking her head softly with one hand. "Quite taken with the mysterious stranger, the princess provided him with all manner of favors and services, rarely even receiving a 'thank-you' in return. And yet she persevered, in the hopes that her selfless kindness might inspire something greater within him."

Jack paused here to reflect, somewhat guiltily, on the behavior he was freshly describing, before giving a deep, breathless sigh and adding, "Eventually, however, the king was contracted by his old friend to join forces against a powerful enemy. And though the king had by now fallen deeply and secretly in love with his hostess, he departed nonetheless, hoping to prevent her from getting involved with the rapidly developing War."

His tones grew lower at this, filled with a mix of sadness and languor.

"But this was not to be," he said. "The king's effect on the princess had been so profound, and his disappearance so abrupt, that she couldn't bear to see him leave so soon. And so the princess disguised herself, and set off to investigate the enemies the king had been asked to battle. But in the process she was captured by a grotesque monster, who cruelly challenged her to a match to the Death. And though the princess fought bravely, she had no true combat experience to speak of, and so eventually the monster…overwhelmed her."

Jack choked heavily on these last few lines, having to remind the bubbling rage within the pit of his stomach that Divine had already received his just comeuppance – or at least as close to it as any being this side of Hell could approximate.

"Fortunately…" he eventually pressed on, "…the 'enemies' the princess had been searching for, a group of dark wizards, used a magic spell to bond the poor girl to her Familiar, a divine being that restored her to a semblance of life. It was at that point that the princess realized her true Destiny: to remake the king into the greatest wizard of all, and to reign over the entire land together, as husband and wife."

Shaking his head, Jack spoke his next words quickly; he was not proud of them, and if Jack Atlas could not take pride in something then he had no use for it.

"But the king was none the wiser to the true nature of his Fate," he told her. "Instead he was duped by circumstances – and by the knights who had asked for his help in the first place – into believing that the wizards were holding the princess captive. And so, he fought with all his heart and soul to defeat them once and for all."

Unconsciously, he held her closer.

"One night he confronted his chosen enemy, only to remove the hood of her mage's cloak and discover that it'd been the princess all along," stated the Dark King. "Misunderstanding the situation, he attempted bravely, if rather foolishly, to restore her to her living form through pitched combat. But he lost their battle quite handily, and in her infinite mercy the princess freed him from his meaningless life. This was only temporary, however…and soon enough he was risen again like her, eternal and immortal.

Jack paused again to compose his thoughts, but after a few moments he noticed that the eyes of his companion were closed in peaceful slumber, the slender hand within his own limp and still.

Evidently, the hummingbird had decided at some point during Jack's tale that keeping its host awake was burning less energy than it was worth, and had opted for the simplest solution to the dilemma.

Smiling in pleasure at the glorious sight of his sleeping Dark Queen, Jack kissed her lightly on the lips and whispered softly, "That's alright. You know how it ends."

Then the Dark King leaned back against his pillows and began thumbing through the cards on his nightstand, waiting patiently for his wife to awaken, restored and refreshed.

[-]

The last resident of Zora's home to wake up with liquid streaming from their eyes was Aki Izayoi, who clutched at her covers as she vividly recalled the details of her nightmare.

The dream had begun like so many nights that she'd spent in the care of the Arcadia Movement: Divine had made a craftily worded offer of sex before they retired to their respective rooms, and Aki had declined on account of fatigue.

What happened next, however, was certainly not something that came from memory. The lingering images of the red-haired psychic's rough hands tearing at her skirt, restraining her limbs, and so many other vile acts that she didn't even want to think about were wreaking havoc on her already ravaged psyche, reducing her to the little girl who'd been so horrified to hear the word "monster" all those years ago…

And the worst part of the nightmare, she reflected with a mixture of irony and intense self-loathing, was that the reason it wasn't a memory didn't have anything to do with Divine being incapable of such an act. Given that she now knew him to be a sadistic mass-murderer and child-killer, it seemed unlikely that he'd have too many moral qualms over something like rape.

No, the reason was simply that Aki had answered "yes" to that question far more frequently than she'd answered "no." There'd been no need to forcibly take something that was so often freely offered.

Habitually she'd had this dream – or ones similar to it – ever since Mikage revealed the truth about her former mentor the previous month. Considering that she'd spent several years considering Divine to be the one man on Earth who understood her, and consequently her absolute soulmate for all eternity, there were no words to describe how deeply that truth had wounded her.

She had relied upon a Devil, slept with a Devil, loved a Devil with all her heart…and then been burned when that Devil decided to hightail it straight back to Hell.

The only time the Divine-related nightmares had ceased to torment her had been the few days at Goodwin's mansion when a gas pipe sprung leaks into Yusei's and Jack's bedrooms. This had forced the male Signers to kip in sleeping bags at the feet of other beds until the problem could be fixed – Jack in Rua's room, and Yusei in hers.

Yusei was an ideal roommate, she'd quickly found. He had the utmost respect for her things, even though the vast majority of the trinkets in the room the Director had provided were not hers to begin with, and generally made sure that she was allowed to use the shower and other such facilities before he'd even think about doing so himself.

And of course, he'd been a perfect gentleman about the changing situation…never taking the peek that Aki was sure ninety percent of Japan's male population would've readily seized in the same position.

Functionally speaking, there was very little about the room that was changed by Yusei's presence. And yet, the emotional atmosphere was so dramatically altered that Aki had absolutely no trouble sleeping peacefully each of those wonderful nights.

When the pipe was repaired less than a week later, Aki couldn't help but feel disappointed. Not only that she would lose her eminently amicable guest…but also that she'd never seized the opportunity to invite him onto the bed to hold her close, if he just so happened to be in the mood for that sort of thing…

The fact that these nightmares were resurging at the very same time that Yusei was out of town on some mysterious quest was not lost on her; nor did she consider it at all likely to be a coincidence. Clearly, her subconscious had anchored her mental wellbeing to Yusei's presence, something that was now proving to be quite unhealthy for her psyche.

Her love for Yusei Fudo – and yes, as of this moment, she was definitely settling on that particular word to describe it – was something that both intrigued and bewildered her, inexperienced as she was at this sort of thing.

Unlike Divine, Aki knew with absolute certainty that Yusei would never try to take advantage of her in any way. He was compassionate, dependable, steadfast, sincere; in short, virtually everything that one could possibly hope for in a romantic partner. Loving him…there was a definite future in it, if only they could withstand the current crisis.

It struck Aki in that moment that Yusei was not only ideal boyfriend material, but indeed potentially ideal husband material, mature beyond his years as he already was.

But here, once again, Aki hit the snag that derailed the one dream she still had that didn't immediately reduce her to tears. When she mentally described Yusei, the words she selected were those that expressed a paragon of the human condition, with nary a flaw in sight apart perhaps from a tendency to push himself too hard.

But when she described herself…there was no comparison. She was the slayer of Misty and (indirectly) Toby Lola, in addition to who knew how many others over the course of the years that she'd yielded fully to the monster taking up refuge within her.

And that monster that was still there, lying hungrily in wait, as the events at the amusement park had amply demonstrated. Apparently a single sentence was all that was necessary to unleash the vicious killer locked within her very soul, and while with Divine dead there was virtually no chance that the phrase could ever be uttered again, the fact that the psychic trigger remained there at all scared her shitless.

But what truly unnerved her was that for all she knew, Divine could've programmed hundreds of such commands into her. He'd certainly had ample opportunities to do so, given how frequently he'd had her…vulnerable.

No, when it came down to it, there was only one possible conclusion with regard to a potential relationship between Yusei and herself: she was entirely unworthy of him.

So that left one question…where should she go from here? Her current course of action – sulking and wallowing in self-pity until Yusei returned – clearly wasn't doing wonders for her mental health.

Her other option, then, was to try and work through the issues that were currently paralyzing her with fear and anxiety on a nightly basis. With the precise nature of Yusei's mission a complete unknown, and no guarantee that he'd be returning to their leaderless team anytime soon, the Signers and their allies seemed to have little in the way of a concrete gameplan…other than simply laying low and waiting for Jack to make his next move.

As such, Aki figured she probably wouldn't be remiss in using that time to address the issues that were currently rendering her a useless wreck.

The most pressing one, of course, was the question of the other code phrases – should they indeed happen to exist.

She hadn't been given the opportunity to afford the subject much study during her years with the Movement (and now that she reflected upon the matter, there had probably been a reason for that). But from what little she'd gleamed from the relevant literature, she was under the impression that deep meditation, particularly in the course of repeated patterned movement, would be one method to reveal any lingering triggers buried at the core of her psyche.

Supposedly, the rhythmic monotony would eventually piece off portions of her mind from her general consciousness, allowing her psychic subconscious to peruse them at will.

Hypothetically, at least.

But even if it didn't work, Aki supposed there was no harm in trying; she certainly couldn't render her mental state any worse at this point.

Sighing deeply, the young psychic finally made up her mind and extricated herself from bed. On the ride here she'd noticed what appeared to be an abandoned fitness center at the first corner of the block, and while she'd never been a particular enthusiast for physical exercise, she knew that the facilities it provided would prove useful in the delicate process of emptying her mind.

And perhaps, when that process was completed, Aki would be ready to discard the monster within her forevermore…

And be able to look Yusei Fudo in the eye without being overcome with soul-crushing shame.

[-]

This woman was different from the others, and P.K. did not like it one bit.

P.K. did not like a lot of things – the Darkness being chief among them. Bad things happened when the Darkness was left at bay: monsters appeared right out of the corner of his eye, waiting to ambush him, while the tendrils of the infinite blackness itself attempted to seduce him into their grasp, so that his mind might once more be swallowed by the shadows that'd plagued him since before he could even remember.

Memory…that was the key point. P.K. was sure he'd had a life before the Darkness came and driven everything else out; a family, a career, maybe even a name.

But any and all memories from before the Curse of Darkness – for he knew it to be a curse, simply knew it, even if he couldn't actually remember anything of the one who'd afflicted it upon him, other than an incredibly hazy image of something like a golden eye – had been wiped out completely, with more and more fading away as the years passed by.

All of it was gone, lost to the Darkness forever. The only things he had left were the clothes on his back, and the enigmatic letters imprinted upon them – and so P.K. hung onto those letters like anchors.

As a man with literally nothing to lose, P.K. had attempted a great number of offensives against the Darkness and its shadowy forces, praying to God or Satan or whoever the fuck would listen that he might be granted even one solitary day's peace from the all-consuming void that haunted him without end.

Though his memories of previous "missions" were decidedly hazy, P.K. could recall a few particular highlights; gathering every electric light he could track down in the Satellite, for example, and using them to arrange a miniscule corner of the world from which all Darkness was strictly forbidden. In his dazzling sanctuary, P.K. had even managed to occasionally slumber without nightmares, an experience that was as blessedly cherished as it was rare.

And then, of course, there'd been the fires. Fire was a glorious thing, for no matter how thick the blackness surrounding it, a sufficiently sized blaze would always be capable of piercing through.

As such, P.K.'s most triumphant successes in his crusade against the shadows had been the regular burning of entire residential and commercial blocks – an act that P.K. found himself to have quite the talent for.

Like all other details regarding his past, the source of this aptitude eluded him, but P.K. had the vague sense that he'd once derived great enjoyment from turning fire onto others. Still, as enjoyment itself was largely alien to him now, he tried not to linger too long upon these brief remembrances.

But until this moment, the absolute pinnacle of his victory had been his systematic elimination of the Agents of Darkness that roamed the Satellite so fervently.

When the artificial glow of electricity and flame had proven insufficient to fully eradicate the shadows that tormented him, P.K. had reasoned that the Agents of Darkness – those that walked amongst it freely, without experiencing any of his pain – were perpetuating its influence despite his best efforts, and that killing them all was the only hope he had of finally putting the Darkness to rest.

It was the only conclusion that made any sense.

Most frequently, he'd discovered these wicked creatures of the night within or nearby a set of streets adorned with crimson lamps, lurking in alleyways or on street corners in a way that was entirely suspicious.

And so, with flashlight and chloroform handy (P.K. never ventured into the night air without the former, and the latter was a necessity, what with these Agents' rather irritating tendency to shout when he came upon them) he'd captured and subjugated a dozen young women over the course of the past month.

Their eyes were removed, as righteous punishment for their galling ability to stare into the void and not cower back in fear. And then, with their throats carefully slit, they were preserved and arranged in a neat circle; a vivid warning to the Darkness that he was not to be fucked with.

But this woman…sure, the other Agents had certainly screamed their lungs out and struggled violently against their restraints, but none had ever dared to introduce the Darkness directly into his brilliant haven! The sheer audacity had left the already taciturn man at a true loss for words, his reaction reduced to raw fury and an intense resolve to make an example out of her.

Which was why P.K. was now shuffling over to the small warehouse adjacent to his "workshop," where the supplies for his past runs at arson still remained. Setting this sinister woman aflame and dumping her charred corpse directly into the most lurid depths of the Darkness would surely teach it to discipline its Agents more thoroughly.

The sole duty of his victims was to die, and that was it.

So preoccupied was the giant on locating the propane and matches within his mountains of storage, that he didn't notice the streaming glow of his flashlight had attracted some undue attention.

Security Officer Tetsu Ushio had been keeping his eyes peeled for the slightest sign of strangeness, and a seven-foot-tall shady character bursting out of a seemingly abandoned building and heading off for a nearby shed certainly qualified.

Taking great care to avoid the larger man's line of sight, Ushio crept up to the structure and listened closely, and after a few beats his ears alighted upon the faint but unmistakable sound of someone struggling against a gag. Holding his breath to steel himself, Ushio carefully slipped past the door and began to trace the source of the sound.

The inside of the building was certainly conspicuous enough, in that it was filled head to toe with electric lights, giving the place the rough appearance of a prison interrogation chamber. Fortunately this at least made it simple for the Signer to find his way through the rather disheveled rooms, ascending two flights of stairs until he burst into the room where the muffled screaming was most prominent.

Notably, this was the only room Ushio had seen in this structure where there was even the tiniest sliver of darkness, owing to a large number of evidently shattered bulbs resting in a corner.

Between the Security Officer and the shards of glass and metal were a large number of wooden chairs, upon which (and Ushio lurched slightly when he realized this) was an array of preserved corpses. Most of them were sitting up straight with eerily plastered smiles, but a few had clearly fallen over in whatever accident had broken the lights.

And even more notably, one of those figures – who was, incidentally, adorned with neat azure hair and an immaculately crisp blue suit – was moving.

"Mikage-san!" Ushio cried out, hastening to bend down and relieve her of the ropes binding her to her chair.

The knots were erratic and overcomplicated, as if someone not entirely well in the head (and the Signer had a rather acute suspicion over who it might be) had arranged them in something of a hurry, and after a few moments of attempting in vain to untie them Ushio muttered "Oh, fuck it…" under his breath, and extracted a service knife from his belt to cut her free.

Severing the thick ropes took nearly a full minute, but eventually they were all lying limp and splintered to the side, and Mikage was taking full advantage of the opportunity to finally stretch her arms and legs. And then, to Ushio's immense surprise, she seized him around the shoulder and buried her face in his neck, sobbing softly as she tightened the embrace as much as possible.

The Security Officer stroked her hair a few times and then, reluctant as he was to do so, released her; he was acutely aware that it wasn't safe to linger here.

Mikage seemed to catch onto this as well, as she rushed to her feet and gestured to the door, which Ushio led them through at a brisk but cautious pace. Her abductor could return at any moment, and he wasn't looking to take any chances with a guy like that.

Unfortunately, their luck on that front did not last long.

"You…no…leave!" shouted a furious voice from the doorway as they reached the bottom of the stairs, and Ushio once again swore under his breath as he saw the hulking man standing directly in front of them, pointing with a single massive finger.

"Mikage-san, listen to me," Ushio whispered. "I'm going to distract him, and then you run past. Don't stop, whatever you do, alright? Just get back to Zora's place as quick as you can."

"But…But I can't…" said Mikage, though the Signer cut her off with a wave of his hand.

"No 'buts' on this one, Mikage-san," he replied. "I'm not putting this up for debate."

And then, without waiting for a response, Tetsu Ushio charged at the giant, barreling into him with the full brunt of his broad shoulder. With his hands occupied by a flashlight and a canister of propane, P.K. was caught off-guard by the attack; both were sent sprawling to the ground outside of the building, his flashlight flying off into an alleyway as they did.

"No!" he bellowed, his hand outstretched weakly toward his only source of light. Ushio wasted no time pressing his advantage, pummeling every inch of his muscular opponent he could reach.

Mikage, meanwhile, moved to follow the Security Officer's orders and sprinted straight past the quarreling pair. But once she was out of sight, the former secretary ensconced herself behind another building and observed them closely.

For although Ushio had been adamant about her fleeing, she simply could not bring herself to abandon her rescuer…especially given the amazing sight unfolding before her.

Mikage was no stranger to fighting, particularly the sorts of styles that Security Officers were trained in. As Director of the Public Security Maintenance Bureau, it was technically Rex Goodwin's duty to oversee all combat training of its personnel, and as with many of his more mundane assignments he was prone to pawning it off on her.

But as she watched her bestial kidnapper backhand Ushio with one of his massive fists, and Ushio retaliate with a right cross and swift uppercut, she got the distinct feeling that she was bearing witness to something quite different.

There was a passion in the Signer's eyes, one which was motivating him to strike against his opponent over and over again with a ferocity that could only be termed beautiful. And it was a few seconds later that Mikage realized the source of this zeal was her.

By abducting her, this man had made things personal. And each emotionally charged punch and kick was a testament to just how much that factor improved the Security Officer's proficiency.

Still, the fact that his opponent was far larger than he was – and built like a tank – was slowly wearing upon him. Every jab that Ushio dished out was returned to him with at least twice the strength, and though he was certainly winning the brawl on the technical side Mikage worried that, passion or no passion, he simply wasn't going to have the stamina to finish this bout.

That was when she saw it. The building she was hiding behind featured an old-fashioned brick wall, and several of its component blocks had broken off from normal wearing, forming a small pile of very lethal instruments.

And so, as Ushio's brutal strikes forced her kidnapper nearer and nearer to her position, Mikage took careful aim – and then lobbed one of the bricks straight at his domed head.

The improvised weapon missed its precise target, but still connected beautifully with the man's right arm, and the sickening crack that followed made it quite clear that the bone had broken. The giant howled with pain as he wheeled around, searching frantically for the source of the projectile, and that provided just enough of a distraction for Ushio to act.

In one fluid motion, the Security Officer drew his service arm and fired off a single shot, clipping his opponent in the shoulder and forcing him backward from the impact. The man staggered furiously for a brief moment and then collapsed to his knees, evidently having passed out from the shock.

The moment that the her abductor fell, Mikage extricated herself from her hiding place and bounded over to the bruised and sweating Ushio.

What happened next was not something she had in any way intended, nor something that she'd given any level of conscious thought to. It was simply an impulse, one that at this moment was far too intense for her to afford even the slightest consideration of ignoring.

She kissed him full on the mouth.

Over the course of her life, Mikage had had three other first kisses. One had been in the sixth grade – kid stuff, and nothing that come of it apart from a few weeks of mild awkwardness between her and the boy in question.

The next had been her sole high school boyfriend, which unfortunately had also proven to be their only one…as a result of learning the next day that she was in fact the young man's fourth girlfriend at the time.

And the last had been with her college boyfriend, who'd treated her comparatively well but who had decided to break things off when he was offered a lucrative position in America. He wasn't a fan of long-distance relationships, and the farewell kiss he'd offered her before catching his plane had been the last one she would experience for nearly ten years.

It'd been a foregone conclusion, for years now, that Jack Atlas would end up being number four amongst that list. But her feelings for Jack suddenly seemed so ephemeral as she experienced the visceral, unbridled passion of Tetsu Ushio's firm lips against hers, the kiss deepening without her meaning for it to as she melted like butter in his tender embrace.

There was no question that this feeling blew every other kiss (first or otherwise) she'd ever received in her life straight out of the water, and it was only the pressing need for oxygen that eventually forced her to slowly pull away.

"Err…wow…" Ushio sputtered, clearly both ecstatic and monumentally confused. "Now…well, err…not to jinx what just happened here…but…"

"We'll talk about it when we get back to Zora's home," said Mikage, before a more mischievous part of her caused her to add, "…In private."

Ushio responded with what was quite possibly the most sincere smile she'd ever witnessed on a man. And so, tenderly, he took her hand in his and led her back the way they came, away from the unconscious psychopath who, in a roundabout sort of way…

Had really done him one hell of a solid tonight.

[-]

Hours passed as P.K. lay there out cold, dust and debris blowing all across his filthy trench coat and dirtying it even further. But as the first droplets of dawn started to cast themselves across the barren street on which he lay, an immense cloak materialized into view, the figure it covered emerging from the shadows and placing a hand upon the giant's broad chest.

You are the Player Killer of Darkness. Though your legacy is forgotten by all but a few, the wickedness within your Heart remains just as strong as it did thirty years ago.

As neither the Reaper nor the Player Killer were currently capable of anything resembling speech, these words passed directly from blackened soul to blackened soul, reaching into his comatose mind and rattling it with whispers that drifted as if upon the wind.

You are wounded, in more ways than one – a shadow of your former self, cursed by the lingering powers of an administrator of Destiny's Judgment. But my Master can heal everything. He can return you to the way you once were…a man who wields dominion over the Darkness, instead of shying away in fear of it.

Would you swear fealty to him, if he was to offer you that power once again?

His already simplified psyche made even hazier by the shock and pain of the shattered bone and the gunshot wound, all the Player Killer could manage was to think vaguely in the affirmative.

But this seemed to be enough, as the cloaked figure extracted one of the feathers he'd been entrusted with, and jabbed it straight into the Player Killer's chest.

Then rise. Rise again, Player Killer of Darkness.

And as the divine power of the feather overtook his mind completely, pushing out everything but an all-consuming devotion to his Dark King, the Player Killer did as he was bade. The massive beast of a man rose to his feet and, slowly, nodded to the Reaper, who ensconced him within the folds of his cloak.

Then, both figures vanished completely, searching for more Hearts of pure and unqualified Darkness to consume utterly.

[-]

A/N: On the one hand, yes, I did indeed keep you all waiting over three bloody months for this thing. XP

On the other hand, it currently clocks in at over 28,000 words.

It really was not my original intention to make this chapter quite that long, but a helluva lot (mainly character development stuff) just happened to come to a head here. In particular the section at Duel Academia came out way longer than I'd planned it to, but that really couldn't be helped; it featured the last stand of the central setting of an entire series, and I wanted to make sure I gave the forces that died defending it their just due.

It should also be noted that there were quite a few complicating factors on the real-life production of this chapter, most especially the fact that my old laptop broke in September, something which all in all ended up setting me back about a month in overall progress.

Add to that the whole "going back to school" thing (with homework and papers galore!) and I simply ended up way behind.

Now, a few notes I want to get out of the way before I begin the reviewer shout-outs…

- Since I saw a lot of this in the reviews from Chapter 10, let me just make it clear: unless I specifically announce that I have done so, you should never assume that I've given up on this story. If this thing does end up becoming too much of a burden and I become forced to drop it for an extended period, rest assured that I will let you all know ahead of time. If you don't hear anything from me, on the other hand, then you should simply assume that I'm working on a mammoth chapter like this one.

- Now, having looked at various "shipping lists" amongst my readership, I'm guessing that I'm going to receive a lot of flak for establishing Manjoume/Asuka as canon in this universe, as opposed to the fan-preferred Judai/Asuka. I've personally always been partial to the former, however, as Manjoume's crush on Asuka was always the height of GX's hilarity to me.

Also, I'm of the belief that pairing Judai with anyone other than Yubel post-Season 3 requires grossly misreading his character…and if y'all will have the patience to see how I interpret Judai in this universe (yes, he is alive at this point and I'll be dealing with him fairly soon), I hope that you will come to understand why I see things that way.

- Speaking of the surviving GX characters…yeah, they'll be back. I'm not making any promises as to when, however, but they will end up having a significant effect on the plot in the long run.

- The first person who can figure out the source of the names in Carly's obituary gets a cookie. :)

[-]

Alright, now with all that out of the way…it's shout-out time, baby!

Thirteen wonderful reviews for Chapter 10 makes my heart sing, so my sincerest thanks go out to Darkcarly, Jen Kritique, Zaconator and Zackis, KaliAnn, Xoroth, Sara Crewe, Hyrulian Hero Akai, Alicia, Ox Boy Jr. 53Z, JAckkku, KuraOkami13, orangerebellion, and Viewtiful Jeff, with particular emphasis on the latter two for their truly stellar observations. I lovez you all!

I'd also like to take this opportunity to afford two non-standard shout-outs: first to themostdarkestheart for their particularly in-depth review of my one-shot "The Devil and the Star," and second to TV Troper Lale for recommending this fic on TV Tropes, which is pretty much the highest honor I could ever possibly receive for doing this.

Lale, if you have an account on this site, I would like to pay you back for the self-esteem bump by allowing you to request a single one-shot from me. PM me with your request if you decide to take me up on this offer.

And while I'm on the subject, a free one-shot will go out to anyone who produces a piece of fan-art based on this story, or another creative piece of any sort that is inspired by it. Having specifically mentioned TV Tropes (which I am utterly obsessed with; TV Tropes Will Destroy Your Life indeed) above, the establishment of a Tropes page for this story would be worth two one-shots, plus infinite hugs.

Yes…my ego is actually large enough that I'm asking my fans for a Tropes page. So sue me, and all that jazz.

Now, onward to the specific reader responses (quite a few this time, LOL)…

Jen Kritique: With regard to the description of Himuro, keep in mind that that particular passage was written from Leo's perspective, and Leo happens to share his mother's penchant for, shall we say…over-dramatics. So yes, in his mind a person like Jin with above-average musculature could conceivably be called a "hulk."

Zaconator and Zackis: I believe that the chapter speaks for itself with regards to the first question; yes, characters from DM and GX can and will appear in this story, and indeed (as of this chapter) already have. Keep in mind, though, that the proportion of main character deaths amongst the DM crowd is even higher than that of the GX characters.

To put it bluntly: Yliaster doesn't fuck around. The only definite deaths that I'm confirming at this point are Seto and Mokuba Kaiba (and Pegasus, but that one was natural)…but yes, there are others.

As for the second question, I run an old-school Demon/Fiend deck (Necrophia, Hades, etc., though with some newer cards like Gorz and Caius thrown in). I don't play the real-life game much anymore, thanks to a general lack of opportunity to do so, but I still find it an entertaining hobby.

KaliAnn: I thought I might be "called out" on this, so I'd like to make it clear that it is neither Jack's nor my intention to "push Carly to the side." Rather, it is a demonstration of Jack's craftiness; notice that he gives his subjects no more information than is required for them to do what he demands them to do.

The identity of his Queen, or even the fact that he now has wings (notice that they don't receive mention in any of the descriptions of his projected image) are things that he's choosing to conceal until such time as revealing them becomes useful.

For one thing, this ensures that he and he alone remains the sole target of any attempts at retaliation from the populace. If Carly is unknown to most of the people who might plot against him, then she's much less likely to be caught in harm's way.

Xoroth: The "power" that the King of the Underworld senses is a locus of spiritual energy, as Ruka explains above. The Sangenma are simply the most powerful of the various Spirits residing there (or were, anyway).

Hyrulian Hero Akai: I was hoping that someone would catch the Zelda references, LOL. I'm quite the fanatic for the series, so it seemed only natural when dealing with a character named "Zora"…

As for Aki, I acknowledge that she's been out of this story's spotlight for far too long, though I hope that her scene in this chapter sufficiently explains the reason why. Rest assured that said scene represents the beginning of a character arc that should last for most of the rest of the story; I am inordinately fond of Aki's character, and am looking forward to developing it out of what we might call the "emo rut" she's currently marred in.

Ox Boy Jr. 53Z: Unfortunately, I have a blanket policy against OC's in this story, whether mine or someone else's. But with such a rich tapestry of B-List characters to draw Team Unicorn's resistance from in the canon universe, I don't feel like I'm missing out at all. ;)

orangerebellion: What Mizoguchi was up to during the time that Sherry was visiting the Leblanc mansion will eventually become clear. And since I've already revealed that he's actually an undercover Interpol agent…well, let's just say that he wasn't visiting the Louvre.

Viewtiful Jeff: Angela is in precisely the same place that she would be in the canon universe at this point. Keep in mind that the only alteration I have made to the canon events has been Carly's glasses failing to fall; everything not directly affected by that, including Angela's whereabouts at the time the condor was summoned, remains unchanged.

So yeah…she's inside Wiraqocha Rasca's belly. Sucks to be her!

That Team Unicorn (or at least Andore and Jean) still come off as somewhat arrogant pricks despite their heroic roles is entirely intentional; if you didn't want to smack Andore at least once over the course of this chapter, then I'd be very surprised. The bittersweet truth is that not everyone who steps up to fight evil is automatically an entirely nice person themselves, and Team Unicorn's characterization is meant to reflect that.

And with regards to the "homoerotic undertones"…their symbol is a unicorn and their fortress is named after an Erasure song. I don't think they're really trying to hide anything.

So while I haven't completely made up my mind about it, my gut feeling is that Jean and Andore are in a committed relationship, and have been for a fairly extensive period. Their banter is generally written with this subtext in mind.

As for Team Ragnarök, don't fret on that note. They should be coming in next chapter, and will factor heavily into how things progress from there. And while their parallels to Team 5D's will not be ignored, I don't intend to let those similarities define their characters quite as heavily as they did in the canon universe (particularly with Brave).

Shooting Star's not coming about in this fic, unless my plans change heavily. But Yusei will certainly receive assistance in making sure that his deck remains on-par with Jack's…and I'll just leave it at that.

And lastly, the Road Warrior thing…yeah, that was my screw-up, LOL. Fortunately Yusei had two unused cards in his hand at the end of the canon version of the duel, so it didn't take much effort to tweak the move so that it worked (namely, making Shield Wing one of those two cards and adjusting the effect of my fan-made Junk Burst so that it no longer increased the summoned monsters' Levels).

The correct version of the move has been edited into Chapter 10 for about a week now. So thanks for the heads-up! :D

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The forces of good (for a given definition of the word) have gathered, and now is the time for them to finally get organized. As Team Unicorn's resistance begins to mobilize as a unit, and the Signers head off on their own quests of self-discovery, the one man with the capability to unite them all returns to Japan…only to find that the situation has changed quite a bit since he left.

And meanwhile, in the backstreets and dark alleyways of the world, the Reaper skulks…scouring the planet for the very most corrupt souls to serve his Master's bidding.

So keep on reading and reviewing, and stay tuned for Chapter 12: Reaping.

– Masterdramon