Dēmiurgós
Author's Note: Enjoy the story and R&R.
Disclaimer: I do not own anything related to or of the Yu-Gi-Oh! GX series.
Summary:
Iwamaru is the last of the Four Monarchs standing.
His power isn't real. It's something he's inherited. Something he's borrowed, from the three sealed members of the Four Monarchs and from Mizuchi-sama herself.
They were so normal. So common. Such bad Duelists they couldn't pass Duel Academia's entrance exams.
Iwamaru had a bone to pick with everyone, but no skill to verify a potential for skill for himself.
When Mizuchi-sama gave them their gifts, it was like they'd dowsed the oldest point in the stone. Guidance to sacred ore which would confer upon them the alchemy they sorely lacked.
A dormant volcano erupted in each of them, lighting crashing within.
They could travel under blasts of Zaborg's thundering thunder, Mobius' freezing frost, Thestalos' firestorm blaze, or Granmarg's busted rock, yet even after becoming emperors each of his own element, the Four Monarchs moved by the magnetism of the blue shadow moon.
The sky only split so wide.
The cold only froze so fast.
The magma only boiled so hot.
The ground only shook so hard.
What is given vanishes as transparently. Destiny chops down, its whim its wrath.
He remained sentry. The weak martyr who always believed he was weak.
Mizuchi-sama was no longer entertained, upset Koorimaru and Ikazuchimaru struggled to acquire their targets. She also trapped Honoumaru, to show the radius of her disfavour.
He was the odd man out.
The weather wasn't theirs to manipulate. The Four Monarchs served Mizuchi as her vassals.
Demiurge EMA was creator, but of the fake material circumstances on the Field. The Homunculus Tokens it produced were similarly fragile, simultaneously destroyed.
Mines, blowing the whole world up.
Even failure can be interesting.