21. The Beginning of the End

There was a long, long silence, and then a heart-wrenching scream.

"You lie!" Yuma shouted at the top of his lungs to the man-child in front of him.

But Tron only laughed and raised a hand, "Come now, why would I lie about such things, my boy? If you would not believe my words, perhaps I should show you. Come, Yuma, take a look at my memories, and listen to Kazuma himself." Even as he said those words, the world about them changed.

Yuma suddenly found himself standing in what looked like a lab room. Nearly two dozen monitor screens formed a wall to his left, and behind him an enormous machine hummed. Two men in white lab coats sat in front of the wall of screens, monitoring the interminable stream of numbers and graphs flashing across while chatting.

It's them, Yuma realized, his father Kazuma Tsukumo and Tron, or Byron Arclight. The two scientists talked amiably, like the best of friends. Yuma heard Tron ask, "Tell me more about this little boy you found in your backyard. How is it that you are so certain that he is from another universe? Though we live in a well-off and happy society, it's not unheard off that an unprepared, desperate parent might abandon his or her child."

"It's not like the boy was left on our doorsteps," Kazuma replied, "Mirai and I were having a glass of wine in the backyard, when suddenly there was a brilliant flash of light. The baby just appeared in the light. I formulated many other hypotheses, and to be honest, wormhole and alternate universe is probably the sanest of all my guesses. As I started digging a little, I learned from a physicist friend that the neutrino detector in the city picked up an explosion of energy and exotic particles that day, much more than what even the severest solar storm can produce. They were all quite baffled over there. And this anomaly happened at the exact same time Yuma appeared in my backyard. I thought there must be some connection."

To which Tron nodded, "I agree, there is probably some connection; otherwise it is simply too much of a coincidence. Though how does our project right now connect to Yuma?"

"I have been doing more tracking and analysis since then. All the wormhole occurrences we are investigating right now happened after Yuma appeared in my backyard, and they are displaying similar energy signature compared to the original incident when Yuma first appeared. I think the alternative universe we are searching for is indeed Yuma's original world."

"Aye, I see."

Here the machine made a long beeping sound, and numbers and trend lines start to flash by at a faster rate. Kazuma and Tron both jumped, grabbing their notepads and pens and scribbling furiously. It was a good five minutes later when the machine and the numbers calmed down once more. Kazuma threw down his pen and breathed deeply.

"Those numbers look promising," he said with a laugh.

"Quite!" Tron commented with the same excitement, "I think we are getting closer to finding a usable gateway to this other world."

"And getting closer to Yuma's real parents! Though, if I can really find his parents, it will be quite the daunting challenge the sit the boy down and tell him everything. And a challenge for everyone in the family too. Mirai is quite attached to him now; she always wanted a little boy. Even Akari is in love with that little squirt."

"And what of you, my friend?"

"Me?" Kazuma paused for a long moment, before saying with a seldom-heard tenderness, "What can I say? He can visit any time. He will always be my little boy, as long as he wants to be."

"He is practically your own son, Kazuma," Tron commented, "I do wonder, why are you so intent on finding his real parents? They did abandon him after all. He has a home and a family with you, isn't that the best for him?"

Kazuma shook his head. "Who am I to say what is best is for Yuma? Everyone deserves the truth about his origin. And either way, if he were really just left on my doorsteps, I probably would not bother looking for his parents. But the way it happened, somehow I don't think his real parents abandoned him. Hey, if I get rid of him, that means someone else can reclaim him."

"You love him so much you just can't wait to be rid of him," Tron joked, "To be honest, sometimes I feel like that too with my boys. The bunch of brats they are!"

At that Kazuma laughed and said, "Exactly! Aye, if I can really be rid of him, I will be happy knowing I have done something good."

Yuma's eyes were already blurry with tears, and upon hearing these words he could not even stay standing any longer. He collapsed onto his knees and sobbed uncontrollably. The lab room in the memories faded, and he was back in the cold, pitch-black warehouse. Not far in front him, Tron laughed with a child's voice. But Yuma did not seem to notice or care; he pounded his small fist on the rough ground and howled, hot tears streaming down his face.

They didn't want me; no one ever wanted me. And they are all gone, because of me.

In the shock of the moment and utterly confused, even Kazuma's tender declarations of affection sounded twisted and venomous to Yuma. All the boy heard was that "they did abandon him" and "get rid of him". A sudden swelling despair swallowed him whole, and he could only cry.

"Yuma, Yuma!" Astral's immaterial hand gripped the boy's arm, "Yuma, Tron is only trying to disrupt your dueling! Stand up, Yuma, snap out of it!"

"They never wanted me," Yuma murmured through his tears, "My real parents abandoned me, threw me away to another world like a piece of garbage. Father explored so he could return me—so he could be rid of me. And now he is gone. Sister Akari, she doesn't have her parents anymore, because of me. It was all my fault."

"No, Yuma, you can't possibly believe that!"

Dark mist rose up and swirled about the boy, almost as if the growing despair in his heart took on physical form and overflowed his small body. Behind the black mist, Tron nodded and said in a low poisonous hiss, "Indeed, Yuma, it's all because of you. Our world was perfectly sane, until your coming started this chain of events. And you shall pay, Yuma, alongside Faker, for all the misfortunes I have suffered."

"Activate spell card, Xyz Factor, I banish Blood Rose Dragon to special summon all the monsters used to Xyz summon it. Return to me, Tour Guide, Tour Bus, and Kagemucha Knight! Now, creating a network of three monsters, overlay everything on my field, Xyz summon—No. 63: Dystopia!"

Yuma raised his head and looked at the twisted monster rising up in front of him, but his usually bright eyes were blank and unseeing. "You are right, it's all my fault," Yuma said to Tron, voice barely a whisper but heavy like the darkest rain clouds, "If it weren't for me, there would be no wormholes, no alternative universes. Father wouldn't be gone, nor would you. And Doctor Faker would be normal. No one would be missing his father."

"No, Yuma!" Astral placed himself in front of the boy and gripped his shoulders, trying to shake him awake, "Yuma, you can't possibly think it's your fault! You have to defeat this mad man; this is your only chance at helping your friends. You lose here, and everyone is doomed to vengeance and darkness."

"I can't, I can't," Yuma whispered.

"You can pay for all the pain I suffered!" Tron snarled, "Activate Dystopia's effect, detach one Xyz material from Dystopia and send face-up Heraldry Payment Seal from my side of the field as cost, target your Utopia: my monsters increases its ATK by Utopia's original ATK while Utopia loses 1000 ATK. My monster will be at 2600, and your Utopia a measly 1500. Now my faithful servant, emblem of all my pain and vengeance, attack Utopia!"

"Yuma, activate Utopia's effect!"

The boy stared back at his spirit companion, silent and unseeing; he was drowning in the shadows of despair, already beyond reach. There was nothing left to do. So Astral wrapped his arms around the boy tightly and tried to shield Yuma as best as he could from Dystopia's attack.

The force blasted them back a good dozen feet. Yuma was dragged across the cold floor, his elbows scraped raw and bleeding, but the boy barely noticed. He was lying there like a broken rag doll, staring up at the ceiling with unseeing eyes. Not far away, Tron laughed again.

"I am afraid that is that, my boy," Tron said in a chilling voice, "Did I remember to mention that Dystopia's effect can be activated in either player's turn? No matter what you draw into, no matter what monster you put out, you can't hope to win."

"Yuma," Ignoring Tron, Astral called once more, "Yuma, stand up. Believe me, we can win this. You need to stand and fight back, Yuma!"

The boy shifted his head an inch, a pair of empty big eyes turned towards Astral, looking up blankly. Still Yuma did not speak. Astral stared back at the child, and suddenly he felt the overwhelming urge to cry. Oh how it hurts! Alongside the piercing pain in his chest, a torrent of visions assailed him.

The sky was burning. Death was looking down from above. A slender form rushed up in front of him, fiery hair and scarlet skirt fluttering like the last rose of summer shivering in the chilling wind. Fire and brimstone of apocalypse crashed into the earth. A heart-wrenching cry, a last glimpse of skeletal crimson wings, and then everything vanished. Replaced by a baby face with bright, bright eyes and hair raven black and rose red. A vision of hope.

Oh, Yuma.

"Yuma," Astral whispered, leaning in to kiss the boy on the forehead, "Yuma, listen to me, whether you can hear or not. Nothing was your fault. You are wanted and you are loved. I love you, my child, and I will always be with you. Believe that, and remember that." With that the spirit rose and turned to face Tron.

"You have not won yet, Tron," Astral said, looking straight on at the hideous mask, "I draw."The top card from Yuma's deck floated up in a haze of golden glow, hovering in mid-air like some mystical apparition.

"A single top-deck will not save you, no matter how miraculous," Tron said, "Even if you can draw into some legendary card like Black Luster Soldier—Envoy of the Beginning, it would do nothing against my Dystopia. Well now? Let's see what you drew into."

Astral shook his head slowly. The card floated down, eventually landed on Yuma's hand, still glowing faintly gold. "I don't need to use that card; it is not for me either way," Astral said, "You seem to forget something, Tron: your Cosmo Suppression is still on the field, and I can still use it."

The hideous mask hid Tron's shocked expression, though that sudden sharp intake of breath was still audible.

"I will pay life points until I only have 1 life point left," Astral continued calmly, "To active Cosmo Suppression's effect. The word I declare—Number."

"What?!" Tron exclaimed, for the first time sound fearful and panicked, "Everyone of them will be banished, gone forever! No, you cannot take away my powers like this! And you will kill yourself…" His exclamation was cut short when something swallowed his No. 63: Dystopia whole. Yet when Dystopia was gone, the oppressive darkness seemed to lift a little.

Yuma blinked very slowly, blank eyes clearing up just a little. He realized he was lying on the ground. Why was he just lying there?

One by one, the Numbers card disappeared into the depth of the unknown, each one gone with a faint streak of light. And with the disappearance of every Number card, a piece of Astral's translucent form would vanish as well. He too was being swallowed by the unknown power of Cosmo Suppression.

"No, no!" Tron cried shrilly.

Then there was a loud "crack"! And the hideous mask hiding Tron's face shattered into a million shards. The heraldic sign on Tron's hand glared a violent red for a moment, and then was gone without a trace. A sudden flare of light enveloped Tron's form, and he screamed. His scream started out as a childish, sharp wail, but quickly lowered into the hoarse cry of a full grown man. Tron was reverting back to his own body, the body of the scientist Byron Arclight.

When Tron finally stood up to his full height, Yuma snapped awake. The boy's eyes widened, bright like the glowing eyes of a deer caught in the headlight. "Astral!" Yuma screamed, and scrambled up, only to see the last shred of Astral's form fading with the glow.

"Yuma," The vanishing spirit smiled and whispered, "I love you, my child. Remember my words to you."

I will always be with you.