"Elemental Heroes? Sounds like some comic book or cartoon show."

Chubs chuckled. "Ouch. I think you just got dissed, Zack."

The card dealer harrumphed in bemusement. "Now, just hold on, before you get all snotty about it. I'll have you know the E-Heroes run a solid strategy."

Valerie leaned over the counter. "Really. Just how solid?"

"Play your cards right and you can get virtually any monster you want out on the field within the first three turns."

She raised an eyebrow – now that's a strategy I wouldn't mind at least researching. "Okay, my interest is piqued. What does it take?"

"First and foremost, a deck stacked with E-Heroes," Zack advised. "Actually, to be more precise, it takes two decks stacked with them. This strategy involves fusing, and lots of it. To get right down to basics..." He flipped to a page apparently reserved to this theme, where four normal monsters and many more effect monsters bearing the words Elemental Hero in their names shone up at her.

"Each Attribute has at least one E-Hero as a member. Virtually all are Warrior-Types, as befits their common title. And virtually all are fusion material. The fun of it is, they fuse into each other." He tapped one of the normal monsters. "Burstinatrix here, for example, is material for no fewer than five different fusion monsters, as is Clayman below her. Next to her is Avian, and he's got his name on six. Below him is Sparkman, partial to seven."

Now both her eyebrows were raised. "All of them into each other?"

"And sometimes requiring more than two. Even sometimes requiring the fusion monsters they create to form greater, more powerful versions – Avian and Burstinatrix make Flame Wingman, but then add Sparkman to that and you've got Shining Flare Wingman."

"Just the names imply strength in offensive power. What've they got in the way of defense?"

"Fewer options," Zack admitted, "but many are almost evenly balanced in that regard. Burstinatrix and Clayman's Rampart Blaster has high defense but can attack while defending. Clayman and Bubbleman form Mudballman, and while he has no special effect to his credit, he can withstand 3000 attack points where no other E-Hero can. If defense points alone won't get it done, go for Tempest, a fusion of Sparkman, Avian, and Bubbleman – by sending one card on your field to the graveyard, you make any one monster on your field invulnerable to attack."

"Which sounds great," she noted, "but doesn't all this depend largely on what monsters you've drawn? A deck will only offer up so many options in your opening hand and that's one of the most critical times to one-up your opponent."

"Well, that's where these two come in – E-Heroes Stratos and Prisma." Zack flipped the page to reveal his choice effect monsters. "Stratos will let you draw any E-Hero you want from your deck when you summon it. Prisma, on the other hand, can let you discard a chosen E-Hero from your deck completely... in return, it adopts the name of the discarded monster for the duration of the turn. If you can use it, fuse it."

She had to smile at that. "Cute. I'll give that some serious thought." She turned to Chubs. "Maybe you should look through the binder, see if anything catches your eye."

Chubs chewed his lower lip for a moment. "I dunno. I mean, I don't hate the game, but..."

Zack withdrew the binder. "No need to rush back into it if you'd prefer not. You've got to hammer it out for yourself, after all."

"Yeah." Chubs nodded. "Yeah, I do. But I'm not the one who got invited to the tournament – Valerie is."

Valerie gave Chubs a glance. "If they were any degree of intelligent, they'd have sent you an invitation too. I wasn't good enough for Madison's tournament, much less Battle City."

"Probably better off as far as the latter's concerned," Zack said quickly, before Chubs could respond; he saw a scowl creep across the other man's face nevertheless. "That wasn't really a good day for anybody."

"Changed my life," Chubs muttered. His expression cleared somewhat and he looked almost apologetically at Zack. "Not yet. Okay?"

Zack nodded once. "Okay."

–

Valerie had opted not to purchase any cards during the visit; in spite of the complaints she'd made on the way to the shop, she was really only interested in window-shopping for new ideas. Her deck, powerful though it was, was to her just a "cookie cutter" recipe, stacked with powerful cards that virtually everyone had access to.

She wanted something more inspiring.

Maybe, just maybe, even stronger.

But though the cards Zack had been pushing were tempting, Valerie had taken time to consider the amount of support put behind them – support that could only have developed from immense popularity.

That wasn't where she wanted to come from. She wanted a deck recipe nobody would see coming. She wanted something that was hers, and hers alone.

She and Chubs had returned to his house with nothing but chatter. When it came down to it, that was all right with her. Zack had acted... strange. There weren't many other ways to describe his behavior. Chubs was quick to note that it wasn't typical of him, and indeed, even Zack himself had admitted it. He'd even gone to lengths to be nicer and more polite to her than she imagined was his usual demeanor.

Something was off. She had a feeling it had to do with the whole mess in Battle City. Chubs had told her once that nobody seemed to want to tell him the whole story... but there was no way to prove anyone had a story to tell. She didn't want to think he was nuts – and she couldn't have blamed him if he was – but she wanted even less to think the people he counted as his best friends would keep from him what he needed for closure.

I can't believe I even mentioned Battle City in there! she thought, thoroughly embarrassed. She wanted to apologize but she knew that would only continue to fray on Chubs' nerves and ultimately be a waste of breath and time. So she had stayed quiet on the matter, and stuck with the subject of new cards and opportunities available to her conceivably after the tournament. She wanted to get in as much as possible before the annual tier reset.

Hence the new deck I'm after.

When she began playing Duel Monsters, she'd sought out advice from Chubs, who to her was the greatest expert she knew personally. She already knew the basics of the game, and she was beginning to master the more advanced tactics. But it was only last December that she finally felt ready to start building her own deck – until then, she'd only used decks others had built for her – and it was the day after Christmas she'd called him to ask his opinion. He'd said, "First you need to establish what you want your deck to be."

"What do you mean?" she'd asked, feeling an amateur for doing so.

"When I build a deck, I like to put my personality into it. Well," he'd laughed then, "maybe not so much. My best and favorite deck has a theme of fire to it – fire and vast, unpredictable power. So maybe that's not who I am but it's sort of the kind of guy I'd like to be. Y'know, like Kyle."

"Who?" The name had no meaning to her.

"Never mind," he'd responded, amusement in his voice. "I guess what you're going for is showing your opponent who and what you most aspire to be. For me, it's to be spontaneous and unpredictable, just like fire can be. Put into it what inspires you, a theme you feel like you can connect with. Build it up. Work with it, and make it work with and for you. Make it so that you're the best person for it, and it's the best deck for you."

She'd shaken her head. "I'm not sure that helps me. How'm I supposed to know what works best for me?"

"Do you like Jinzo?"

She'd made an unenthusiastic sound. "I like the effect... I like the level and attack power... but I don't like the monster itself. It's hideous and as a rule I don't care for Machine-Type monsters."

"That's how you know. It doesn't work for you if you don't like it, so don't put one in this dream deck of yours. If you don't like the components of your deck, you're not going to have fun with it. Not to sound dirty, but what works best for you in this game is what turns you on. Build by that principle, no matter how ridiculous it might sound. And just take it from there."

"But that doesn't mean my deck will be successful. You could be asking me to stack it with monsters that have no attack points, for all you know."

"And for all I know, that strategy can work – just because I've never seen it doesn't mean it can't."

"That's not my point. How can I make it cohesive?"

"Grab a notebook and start writing down the names of those cards you most like and want. Doesn't matter if most people consider them useless or ineffective. Write them all down. Pick a number of cards you want in your deck – most people go for forty or fifty, sometimes sixty but usually no more. Then start crossing out the ones you think will do you the least good... the excess, the glue that doesn't bind. Whittle it all down to a recipe whose cards work well in concert with each other, cards you can create multiple alternative strategies with."

"Wouldn't it be easier just writing it in a notepad file on my computer?" she'd asked. "Technology has allowed for such things."

"Write it down, and in pen," he'd insisted. "You have it written down, there's a permanent record you've chosen that card for consideration. We take it more seriously when we write it down. Just try it out."

Eleven months later, in the late evening, Valerie found herself stretched out on the couch of the Smith residence's living room, a notebook in her lap and a pen in her hand. Every Elemental Hero monster she'd scribed had since been crossed off. She just didn't see how that theme could be so unique that she alone could master it.

But there was a theme within their theme that she could still make hers...

One that appealed greatly to her, and allowed for vast eclecticism if she so desired.

She smiled, and shifted in her seat, ready to write anew–

Something crinkled.

She frowned. Shifted again.

More crinkling noises.

"What the hell?" she muttered, and she threw her legs over the edge of the couch to stand. Sounds like there's something under the cushion...

But the cushions of the couch were not removable; they were stitched securely to the seat. Her frown deepened as she slid her hand between the cushions, not sure what she expected to find except something that surely didn't belong there. Aunt Kathy has her carpets and upholstery cleaned the same time every year – end of October, to get ready for Thanksgiving and Christmas. Whatever's in here must have fallen in within only the past couple weeks...

Her index and middle fingers caught upon a crumpled piece of paper. She pressed her fingers together and tugged it out.

Her eyes widened when she realized what it was.

–

Chubs stormed into the TV room, a crumpled sheet of paper in hand and fury on his face. His mother was watching a crime show – he'd never bothered to keep track of them all and so had no idea which one it was, but at the moment, he didn't really care.

He tossed the paper in her lap, his scowl so dark she immediately sat upright.

"Opening mail not addressed to you is, in fact, a crime," he growled. "Good thing you were watching this show – were you trying to find out how long you could get put away for it?"

"Cody..."

He snatched the remote from the end table next to her chair and turned the TV off. "How could you keep this from me? What gave you the right?"

Now her expression turned almost as dark as his own. "I almost lost you half a world away from home, I'm not going to let you risk your life to go off and do the same thing all over again!" she responded angrily. "Judge me however you like for that! I was going to give it to you once the event was overwith."

"What the hell for? I wouldn't have had any use for it then, except as a trophy for what might have been. That's an insult!"

"It was supposed to show that the community hasn't forgotten you. Still thinks you're good at that game. That's the only reason I didn't burn it on sight. I thought you would have wanted to know the standing you still–"

"My standing doesn't mean anything if I don't use it! The tier system is going to reset in two months and I'll be a rock bottom duelist like all the rest!"

"What made you start caring so suddenly?" she shot back. "You've been skulking around this town doing nothing for two months because of post-traumatic depression, you've been throwing your cards all around your room, yelling at your friends who play – it was Kyle who made the accident happen in the first place, all over this stupid game!"

"And right when I'm starting to feel like I might actually be ready to face the demon that wasn't even to blame, you decide for yourself that taking away an opportunity to face it full-on is all for the best? I don't buy it. Did you somehow think I'm not capable of making that decision for myself, whether I'm ready for it?"

"You've barely shown you're capable of tying your shoes in the morning! How could I trust you to stay away from these tournaments before it all defaulted? Come January you won't have reason to play anymore, and if that's what it takes to keep you safe, then so be it!"

"What do you mean, I 'won't have reason to play'?" he demanded. "I still like the game. So something bad happened to me when I was playing it. You know what? I didn't have any control over that. None whatsoever. I played the game to save my life – I can honestly say I couldn't have played better. I dueled my heart out, and if those stakes hadn't been in place, I'd have been as proud of myself for doing as well as I did then as I am now."

"Proud? Those men tried to kill you and Kyle allowed that to happen! What in the world could he have been trying to protect that was more valuable than your life? Answer me that!"

"Look, I may never understand why Kyle did what he did," Chubs said, "and mark my words, I haven't forgiven him for it. I hate him for it. I'd like to string him up and show him how it feels to get your neck snapped. You think it hasn't occurred to me during my every waking moment my best friend was willing to risk my life over a trinket? The game had nothing to do with it. No, actually," he amended, "that's not true – the only thing the game had to do with it was it showed me what I'm worth to Kyle. If anything, I should be thankful for that, not turning my back on it."

"Fine! Then play the game here, in the safety of your own home, instead of leaving it and making me wonder if I'll never see you again!"

He forced himself to soften his tone. "It doesn't work like that, Mom. Kyle's gone, probably for good, and thank God for that. Whoever those guys were, whatever it was they really wanted... they know we're not friends anymore, and not worth anything to each other – there's no point. I'm just as safe as the next duelist who goes to a tournament. Actually, in this case, even safer." He gestured to the paper. "It's a closed tournament. Battle City took place all over Domino. This is being set in a single place. Tight security. Curfews. Wake-up calls. The whole smash. They learned something from Battle City, not to let things like that happen again."

"Cody, you're still recovering!"

"The physical damage has healed, Mom. All that's left is what's in my head. I have to get back into this game and face that. I'm not going to get any better than this if in my head I can't separate the game from what happened."

"Cody, you're not ready for this yet, and you're not going. I've made my decision."

He scoffed. "As if it's your decision to make."

"Long as you live here, it is."

"What, you'll kick me out if I go play a game?"

"No. But I'll do what I have to in order to make sure you stay safe."

"You mean stay away from what I want to do. Playing Duel Monsters isn't dangerous, Mom. I'm the one who was traumatized and I understand that. Why can't you?"

"Say what you want. I'm not convinced whoever those madmen were wouldn't come after you again if they thought there was something to gain from it. They know if you were likely to show your face anywhere, it would be at a Duel Monsters tournament."

"No way. A normal person might never want to play again after something like that. But I'm not normal. And I'm going to get back into the game."

"Not this way, you're not."

Chubs inhaled deeply. Thought silently for a long moment.

Then he took the paper off her lap, and left the room without another word.

–

Valerie put her hands on her hips. "You're not going to get her to change her mind. What did you think going to her would accomplish?"

"I wanted to at least get her to explain to me why she hid the invitation. She might have been better off just to burn the thing. Then none of us would have ever known." Chubs sat backwards on his desk chair and rested his chin atop his arms, crossed over the arching back of the chair. "I don't know what to do."

"Seems pretty simple to me," said Valerie. "Follow your gut."

"Simple? Yeah. Easy? No."

"Whoever said it was supposed to be easy? Your mom expects you to just stop playing altogether. You don't want to. Ultimately it's up to you what you decide to do about it."

"She thinks she's trying to keep me safe."

"That's because she doesn't understand. She's trying to cope the only way she can. She's blaming the game and Kyle in equal measure – you've already gotten past blaming the game because you know it didn't really have anything to do with... you know."

Chubs sat in contemplative silence for several moments. Then his eyes slid over to his cousin. "I'm going. The question is, what happens when I come back?"

Her eyes softened. "Cody... I think the idea here is that if you go, you won't be coming back."

"Yeah." He blew out a deep breath and stared at his desk – cleaned off for the first time in ages, thanks to Valerie's help earlier today. "It'll break her heart."

"The heart heals."

"Not always. And never quickly." He shook his head. "I won't drop out of high school or transfer anywhere else. I'm getting my diploma here. After that..." He shrugged. "I may not have much reason to stay."

Valerie sat down on his bed and folded her hands in her lap. She let the silence hang in the air for a minute, and then asked, "Want me to help?"

He scoffed quietly. "Deja vu." He looked up. "Grab me a cordless and a phone book. I know a place."

–

The doctor stepped into the nearest restroom he could find. It sounded to him like someone was trying to flag him down from up the hall – all the more reason for him to escape from sight. Swiftly, he entered the walled-off stall at the far end of the room, making sure to shut and lock the door behind him.

He closed his eyes for a moment and rocked his head back. His hands clenched into fists–

"Doctor?" A young male voice cut through the silence of the restroom. "Doctor Mesah?"

He opened his eyes, let his fists relax, and exited the stall, nearly bumping into the fresh-faced intern. He scowled. "Do you mind?" he demanded, tugging on the waistline of his pants.

"I'm sorry," the intern stammered. Then he frowned and glanced about. "Did you see or hear somebody else come in here?"

"No. Just me," he answered truthfully, moving to the sink to wash his hands.

"That's strange. I could have sworn..." The intern rubbed the back of his neck. "Sorry."

"Yeah." He looked at his reflection as he dried his hands off. Too close. He departed the restroom, and began pacing up the hall, moving faster the closer he came to the exit.

The doors slid aside, and a blast of warm air greeted him.

Home free.

He clung to shade wherever possible; the sun was only beginning to send its rays into the streets, and it was not a celestial body he was at all eager to greet perhaps ever again. He made his way quickly up the street; he remembered this part of the city all too well, and knew precisely where to go next. He clenched his fists again, and kept them tightly closed this time – concentration was everything.

He stole into the high-rise building. Nobody noticed his presence there... not even when he circled behind the desk to check occupancy records.

Floor 17 closed for renovation. Perfect.

He got into the nearest elevator, pleased that it was empty, and dialed in for Floor 16. The lift took him up the side of the building; he could see the sweeping panorama of the city below as sunlight crept up ever further above the horizon.

When the elevator came to a stop, its doors opened wide. As he passed through, he could see several frowns of confusion on the faces of passersby. He didn't mind – for him, it simply meant it was working the way it was supposed to.

He took the nearest stairway and ascended to the next floor, ignoring the warning signs about it having been closed, and made his way into the corridor. It was festooned with plastic tarps and half the floor was covered in sawdust. But most importantly, there was no one occupying this floor. Perhaps just as importantly, one of the rooms' doors was slightly ajar.

He slunk into it and lay carefully on the bed.

And Kyle McCraine let the illusion go.