OP1: DragonForce - Ashes of the Dawn

1: Once You've Hit Rock Bottom the Only Way is Up

The stench of a man who was about to kill you was enough to send you to the gates early.

Though she struggled, the petite woman was easily overpowered, rasping breaths across her cheek making her skin crawl. "I don't want to hurt you," said her attacker, a burly man with shaggy hair in his late twenties.

Billy Blake walked past without a second glance. Croydon could be rough, and he had enough problems without butting into other people's. Besides, he had common sense, and common sense dictated he not get himself killed for a person who would likely walk straight past him as he had her.

In his mid-twenties, he was small and pale, with crooked front teeth and shallow cheeks. Fine brown hair swept across his brow, gritty and dry, and a flat scar shone white on the side of his neck. He wore a black coat to his knees that he'd stolen from a dead guy, with ripped jeans and tattered boots.

His patrol continued, buoyed and yet flattened by the presence of easy targets. He found violent robbery distasteful; however, he had to eat. Pickings were slim, and whether he pickpocketed someone silently or mugged them violently, they would still suffer. That was the way of the world: people making other people suffer. He just preferred to do it the quiet way.

He turned a corner, deeper into a vast residential block seemingly devoid of life. The houses were uniform, red brick with black tiled roofs and white plastic doors. All had darkened windows, most by blinds or net curtains, but some by boards. The roads were cracked and the street lights were dim in the late evening, casting long shadows across the uneven paving.

Litter fluttered in the breeze as it turned Billy's coat-tails up around him, the smell of petrol fumes and tarmac filling his nostrils as the sound of distant cars and humming power lines lulled the city into sleep. Without warning, an errant sheet of paper folded across his face, making him sputter as he pulled it away, beginning to scrunch it up. He came to a halt when he caught an advertisement out of the corner of his eye.

A prize of two-hundred pounds.

To a lot of people in the city, that would be pocket change. But to him, it was a good week of not having to worry about where the next meal was coming from. He unballed the paper, revealing a flyer for a game shop in Southwark, promoting a Duel Monsters tournament that would be happening the next day.

No use to him then, he thought as he stuffed it in his pocket anyway. Several lifetimes ago, maybe, but he hadn't touched a deck in over nine years. Not since he'd cast away his leisure to survive. It was an intriguing thought, though; he felt happy memories threatening to boil up and overwhelm his caustic reality.

That had been a long time ago. He was no longer capable of happiness, nor did he deserve it. He was just a bottom-feeding gutter rat, after all.

He cast the thoughts aside and continued, turning into a dank alleyway. He swerved and leaped to the side as a large man came upon him, sandwiching himself against the wall. He gulped as the guy turned, revealing a bald head and a scarred face. He wore overalls covered in what Billy hoped was red paint, with heavy boots and a nasty grin.

Billy nodded sharply. "Mick."

"Whatcha doing wanderin' round here then, Billy?" said Mick, picking at a piece of meat in his teeth.

Billy shrunk, pressing closer against the wall. He felt a squelch beneath his shoe as he crushed a dead rodent, the musty smell of trash mixing with the fetid odour of decaying intestines. "None of your business," said Billy, sounding a lot braver than he felt.

Mick leaned in closer, eyeing Billy as he rested a hand on the wall beside his head. "But I think it is. How could you go abandoning your friends like that?"

Billy stared into his eyes, pushing the fear away. It would serve him no good here. "I don't have friends, Mick. I have people who don't want to kill me, and people who want to kill me. And I can guess which one you are." He lashed out quickly, a jab to the solar plexus which made Mick step backwards. That was all he needed.

Pushing off the wall, he took off at a canter, ignoring Mick's cries of alarm from behind him. He'd run away from Jimmy's gang for a good reason, and he wasn't about to be dragged back. He cleared the length of the alley in an eyeblink, turning left onto another residential road, full of cracked driveways and broken fences.

Hearing heavy footsteps approaching, he turned down the next alley, barely slowing. He could be ruthless in a fight, but he was a lot better at running away, having always been small and skinny. He could outrun almost anyone with sheer speed, but speed wasn't all he had, and he could ignore the voice which told him to hide. Mick would find him.

The alley was the same as the last, dark and dank and dirty, but he paid it no mind. He leaped up a wooden fence, gripping its top and scrabbling his feet to gain purchase. He hauled himself up and over without stopping to check behind him.

The garden belied the surrounding area: deep and narrow with paving and no grass, it still held a plastic slide and a swing. Idyllic suburban life for the plebeians, he supposed, though he imagined the kids were happy enough. He ran its length without paying attention to the shocked faces staring out of the window, lit bright by halogen and revealing a normal sitting room, with an aged sofa and out-of-date TV.

He let himself consider burglary for a second. Though old, the furniture would still fetch money and a family like that was an easy mark. He wondered if they'd try fighting if he went in now?

"BILLY!" Mick's roar from the gateway snapped him from his reverie and he continued at full pelt, earmarking the location in his head for later. It never hurt to be prepared. He continued hopping gardens and crossing streets, almost being run over on several occasions as the quality of both streets and houses gradually climbed.

After running for what felt like forever, he came to a stop and let his senses catch up with him. He put his hands on his knees and panted, his vision beginning to swim and blur. Breathing deeply, he listened to the sounds of growling engines and whooshing cars, seeing light as he looked up. He had managed to reach a dual carriageway. He could see junctions to either side, with a pedestrian crossing not far from him.

The road was flanked by lines of trees, houses and streets and masses of people lying behind them. There was a commercial estate a couple of hundred yards to his right, boasting a Burger King and a cinema among other things. He'd have killed for a Burger King at that moment. He recognised a name on the huge neon sign: Monster Hunters. His first thought was of Capcom mounting a lawsuit against a family-owned business in London, but then he remembered: the flyer which had hit him in the face had been for the same shop.

That meant he was in Southwark, which was in no way good. But the lights were almost blinding, the streetlights illuminating the late hour as though it were daytime and the noise and smell of petrol made him dizzy, so he sat back against a tree and heaved a sigh. He just wanted to be free. Of poverty, of danger, and of the person he had to be to survive. He didn't even remember who he really was, or know if that person even existed anymore. Probably not.

"Hey there," said a voice with a lilting Scottish accent. Billy panicked; he was in Terry's territory, and he owed Terry a fair chunk of change. Enough to justify the loss of limbs in the gangster's eyes, so he looked at the voice's owner, his eyes wide and almost feral.

He swallowed a bitter taste and grit his teeth, but quickly relaxed. It was a feminine figure hidden by a dark cloak, billowing hood hiding her face. She was tall and athletic, her figure under the streetlamps striking bemusement. "And who are you supposed to be?" said Billy.

The woman made a shocked noise. "Haven't you seen the drawings? I'm Lady Light."

Billy frowned. "Lady-who now?"

She pulled her left arm free of her cloak, revealing a white-and-blue duel disk with a digital display. "Have you been living under a rock? In the summer of twenty-twenty-eight, a duel tournament in Japan ended in tragedy. There's an urban legend that that tournament was just proxy to a shadow war." She span, giving her cloak a flourish. "Lady Light was one of the heroes."

"Isn't it a bit distasteful to make fantasy out of a tragedy?"

She leaned in close to his sitting form, showing a flash of dark and dangerous eyes. "It's no fantasy. There are more things in heaven and earth, Horatio, though I find it hard to believe you have no idea."

Billy shrugged. "I don't follow Duel Monsters."

He swore he could hear her smile. "That's funny, 'cause they follow you."

A lorry whizzed by, its slipstream hitting Billy in the face and making his eyes water. He stood up, dusting off his coat and narrowing an eye. "What are you on about?"

She skipped closer to him and he almost leaped back, glaring at her. She smiled, and he saw a strand of black hair flit across her eye. He stayed focused on her, watching her entire body, his legs tensed like a frightened predator. This woman was obviously mental, and he doubted violence was beyond her. She reached into her cloak and produced something.

Billy leaped back violently, eyes not once wavering from the object in her hand. He felt heat rise in his cheeks as she laughed, high and musical and mocking. "What are you so afraid of?" she asked, teeth glinting under her hood as she unclenched her hand. "I just wanted to give you this."

He could scarcely believe it. A deck case? Why would she give something worth so much to a stranger? Was it even worth anything? He eyed her dubiously, still ready to run. The motivations of the clinically insane were often difficult to understand. "Why? What makes you assume I want it, and how am I supposed to believe what you're telling me? I think you need to be sectioned, love."

She slowly and deliberately stepped closer, still holding out the deck. "Aren't you gonna ask how it ended?"

Billy didn't jump back this time, but he stared in bemusement and sighed. "How what ended?"

"The shadow war."

"I don't care about Japanese urban legends."

"So what do you care about?"

"Myself."

Before he could blink, she had closed the distance between them and he could feel her breath tickling his nose. It smelled pleasant, of elderberries and alcohol, which at least explained the delusions. She was still uncomfortably close. Their eyes locked and he found himself staring with the thought he could see a little familiarity in the shadows beneath the hood, but it was too dark.

Her touch jolted him as she grabbed his wrist in a vice-grip, staring back into his dull brown eyes. "I've been where you are, little rat. I know that look. So I'm offering you a rope, and you can either pull yourself up or stay down there feeling sorry for yourself forever."

He couldn't say anything. He wanted to be defensive. He wanted to scream and shout and rage. He wanted to hit her. But he couldn't. Good things didn't happen to people like him, and someday he'd pay for it. Probably double, or triple. But he could say nothing. Her eyes and words pierced him like ice shards and his blood ran cold, and he reached out and took the deck from her. He opened it, revealing shiny cards, some of which he'd seen before, some of which he hadn't. But he knew that they were rare, and valuable. He'd be able to eat for a year.

"Good boy," she said, a smile stretching her cheeks. He thought he saw freckles before she backed away and corrected her hood. "Just so you know, you'll never be able to sell it. You might try, but this reality simply doesn't work that way." She turned on her heel and walked away, waving off any further question.

"Silly bitch," Billy muttered to himself, turning back down the street he had come from. He wanted out of Southwark, and he wanted out quickly. Unfortunately, reality didn't work that way. He had barely cleared the tall, thin trunks of the decorative trees when he noticed a group of four guys walking directly towards him. He kept walking, ready to spring aside. His bones became taut as tension overtook every sinew and tendon.

There was somebody behind him.

He turned quickly enough to give himself whiplash, catching full the figures of two men: one tall and lanky, one short and stout. They were both in their early thirties, and had scars and tattoos all over their bare arms. As his brain cycled through numerous escape scenarios, he idly recognised the short guy. It was Ben, a guy he'd worked with when he was fresh out of prison, who'd shown him the ropes. He clicked his tongue and put his hands in his pockets. "Evening, gents."

"Hands out your pockets, Billy," said Ben, the guy to his right just grunting and trying his utmost to look primitive.

He did so, holding them up to his head. "Come on, mate, is there really any need to be holding people up in the street?" He grinned, hoping it would disguise the panic rising in his gut.

"When a bloke like Terry wants to see ya, then yeah," said one of the four behind him. He turned to see that the largest man had spoken, a mountain whose beard could have been its own separate ecosystem. Like the rest of the men, he wore dark clothes and the brim of a baseball cap shadowed his eyes.

Billy's eyes kept flitting between the two groups which flanked him. "Couldn't he have found me himself? This is quite rude, y'know."

The yeti growled. "Manners cost."

Billy pulled a face. "I think you're missing part of the phrase."

"'Bout twenty grand, plus interest," said Ben. "We don't wanna hurt ya, mate."

Billy laughed, though he wanted to cry. "Are you for fucking real? That's all you idiots do."

Ben's face darkened. "Do you think you're any better?"

He paused, staring straight at Ben. He was among the worst of the worst, but looking at these guys and seeing the way they cornered him like a wounded animal? It made him sick. He made himself sick. Finally, Billy realised that what the madwoman had said was true. He had climbed a step up the rope she had thrown, allowed himself to hope, and seen the filth on the ground for what it really was.

He thrust his chin out and said, "yeah, I am. At least I have the self-awareness to know that I'm-"

Everything went black.

Well, he wasn't dead.

That was the good news. The bad news was that he had no idea where he was. He could guess, being that he'd been knocked out from behind in the street and could now feel ropes digging into his wrists, which rested on the wooden arms of a chair. He inhaled sharply as he tried to move, his ankles in a similar position. The air was stuffy and smelled of dust.

He opened his eyes, registering first the desk in front of him. It was hardwood, polished and clean, topped by a laptop, a smartphone and several piles of paper. The light in the room was dim, and there were no windows. There was a man sitting in the ornate chair behind the desk, toying with a Browning handgun in his gnarled right hand.

He was tall and well-built, missing several teeth and all of his hair. He wore a neat, black half-beard and an eyepatch over his left eye, the reflective skin of his pate making his weathered face appear darker. He wore a Moss Bros suit, navy blue and tailored to fit his contours. His face was set in a sneer even as he turned to face Ben and the walking Gillette advert behind him.

"How hard did you hit him, Dec?" The man's cockney accent denied the existence of the letter 'h'.

"Hard enough," replied Dec, flinching away from his boss.

"Leave your pet Silverback alone, Terry," said Billy, eyeing him blearily. "I'm awake." He tried to muster his greatest level of defiance, but he was breathless. Helpless.

Terry smirked, point his gun idly at Billy. "Good lad. Now, I think you know why you're here."

"If you want advice on a new suit, you're asking the wrong person."

Terry stood and reached across the desk, cracking him in the jaw with the butt of his pistol. "Enough of the smart mouth. I want my money."

Billy sighed, fighting the urge to start trembling. "I don't have it."

Terry frowned and licked his lips. "That's a problem, Billy. You know what happens to people who don't pay their debts, don't you?" He slammed his weapon into the desk. "We take their assets!"

Billy smiled mirthlessly. "I don't have any assets."

Terry grinned, a dark void peeking through the gaps in his teeth. "You know how much a kidney goes for, huh? Or your lungs?"

Billy gulped, his words cracking through his dry throat. "More than I owe you."

Terry shook his head. "Makes no difference. But I'm a sporting man, so I'll let you keep your organs."

Billy glared suspiciously. "What's the catch?"

"You come and work your debt off."

His heart sank and he felt his hands slipping on the rope. He saw the state of what was beneath him, the pit he'd just started climbing from, and the slender hope he'd allowed to take root fled. He'd spent all of his time down there without realising how dirty he really was, justifying his sin with the need to survive. But he didn't want to be that filth anymore.

"Go fuck yourself, Terry," he said. "I'd rather die."

Terry chuckled. "That don't sound like you. What happened to 'anything to survive'?"

"I had an epiphany."

"And what was that?"

"There's a difference between living and surviving."

Terry nodded slowly, his eyes narrowing as he looked Billy up and down once more. "True enough. But you won't be doing either, soon enough."

"Yes, because threatening me is magically gonna make twenty grand appear in my pocket."

Dec growled. "Don't talk to him like that."

Billy's eyes widened. "Are you still here? I thought you'd gone to eat bugs off of your mates' backs."

Terry held out an arm to restrain his underling. "It's fine, I'm sure you've got something interesting in those pockets. Like I say, I'm a sporting man. So how about a game of cards, and a bet to go with it?"

Billy looked up, wondering. He was good at bluffing, and better at cheating. He was banned from half of the casinos in London, and Terry knew that. So what was he thinking? "What's the bet?"

Ben sighed, seeing Billy's train of thought. "No offence, boss, but is this the best idea?"

"Don't question my judgment," said Terry. "There's a reason I'm in charge."

Billy said, "I always thought it was the gravity the eyepatch gives you." He wasn't sure why he was still talking.

Terry's expression darkened. "When I find the bitch who took my eye, I'll put her in the ground. As for you, the ground's too good for you. You win, you get time and freedom to get my money. You lose, you work for me. And for that last comment, you can lose an eye when you lose, too."

Billy's heart did somersaults. Was he really being offered this chance? Two good things in a single day was unheard of for him, but he wouldn't look this gift horse in the mouth. There was no other choice, really. He'd have to play. "What's the game? Blackjack? Poker? Go Fish?"

Terry grinned, putting down his gun and pulling a deck of cards from inside the desk. "Duel Monsters."

Billy missed a beat, dumbfounded. "I can't, I don't play."

"Really? 'Cause that lump in your pocket looks suspiciously the exact right size and shape to be a deck, don't ya think?"

Billy looked down at his jeans, seeing the bulge and remembering. That was his rope. His meal ticket. He hadn't even considered the idea of using it, but in that moment, he felt an unbearable connection with the cards. He couldn't explain why, but he wanted to use them. To fight with them. "You'll need to untie me."

Terry gestured and Dec and Ben reluctantly removed the bindings from Billy's arms. He put his deck on the table, Terry doing the same. "We'll keep these two as witnesses, to make sure neither of us cheats. You know what you're doing?"

Billy looked down at his hands, rules and mechanics slowly returning to his mind. "Vaguely."

Terry offered his own deck to Billy, prompting a look of confusion. With an aggravated sigh, Terry snatched Billy's deck from his hands and began shuffling it with an expectant gaze. Billy clicked on and did the same before passing the deck back.

"I'll start," said Terry.

"DUEL!"

Terry: 4000

Billy: 4000

"I'll start by summoning Gold Gadget (Lv. 4, ATK: 1700)," said Terry, placing the card on the desk. "And with his effect, I can also special summon Silver Gadget from my hand (Lv. 4, ATK: 1500)! And he has the same effect, letting me summon Red Gadget (Lv. 4, ATK: 1300)!"

Dec sneered at Billy. "See that? There's no way you can keep up with the boss's swarm tactics!"

Terry smiled. "Red Gadget's effect lets me add Yellow Gadget to my hand. Now I think I'll overlay my Red and Silver Gadgets!" He stacked the cards on top of each other. "Xyz summon! Rank four, Gear Gigant X!" Reaching into his extra deck, he placed the black-bordered card on top of the stack (Rk. 4, ATK: 2300). Immediately, he removed a material from the stack. "By removing an overlay unit, I can add another Silver Gadget to my hand! I set a card and end my turn."

Billy eyed the field. It was strong, and he hadn't played in almost a decade. How was he supposed to get through that? "Draw." He surveyed his hand carefully, reading every card.

"Hurry it up!" said Dec.

Terry waved him down. "Let him have his stay of execution. Won't change the end result."

Billy bristled. Did people really think so little of him? He supposed he deserved it, but it still irked him: the idea that he'd failed before he started. He would be better. He had to. "I activate the effect of the Super Soldier Messenger in my hand!"

Terry narrowed his eyes. "I've never heard of that card."

Billy smirked. "Neither have I. But by discarding it, I can add a Black Luster Soldier from my deck to my hand!"

Ben clicked his tongue. "That's too powerful."

"Hmph," said Terry. "He won't be able to summon it."

Billy ignored them. "I'll add a card we've all heard of, Black Luster Soldier - Envoy of the Beginning!"

Dec chuckled. "Like that'll do anything."

As Billy went to play his next card, he realised his mistake. He could have made an easy combo, but had searched the wrong card. He grit his teeth as he kicked himself, but had no choice but to continue. "I summon Sacred Soldier Apprentice!" He put down a card with art resembling a younger version of the Sacred Soldier (Lv. 4, ATK: 1800). "And it attacks your Gold Gadget!"

Terry eyed his set card, but moved Gold Gadget to the space above his deck instead (Terry: 4000 - 3900). "Looks like you drew first blood."

Billy said, "it won't be the last either. I set two cards and end."

"Then I'll draw," said Terry. "And I'll summon Gold Gadget!"

Billy did a double-take. "Are we in the TARDIS right now or somethin'?"

Terry smirked. "It's why my deck's unbeatable. I'll call out Silver Gadget and with his effect, Yellow Gadget (Lv. 4, ATK: 1200)!"

"And that adds another Gadget to your hand, right?" said Billy, looking over Terry's field with consternation.

"The Green one, to be exact," said Terry.

Dec flinched. "Don't go talking 'bout green, boss. That last batch tasted like arse."

Terry growled. "You'll be tasting my mastiff's arse if you don't shut up. Now, by using the Yellow Gadget on my field and the Gold Gadget in my grave, I can special summon the Boot-Up Corporal - Command Dynamo!" He palmed the two cards and placed down the new monster (Lv. 4, ATK: 0).

Billy knit his brows. "It has no attack points."

Ben said, "any duelist knows not to underestimate a monster with no attack points, even the idiots in our arena."

Terry said, "the monsters I use to special summon it are then equipped to my Command Dynamo and for each one, it gains a thousand attack points (ATK: 0 - 2000). Next, the effect of my Gear Gigant X will add another Yellow Gadget to my hand!"

"Don't think so," said Billy, showing Terry a card. "I can send Ghost Ogre & Snow Rabbit to my graveyard to destroy your monster!"

"But like MST," countered Terry, "it doesn't negate the activation, so I still add Yellow Gadget to my hand!"

Billy's face fell. It was a basic ruling understood by children, dogs and even the idiots in Terry's so-called arena (since when did he have an arena?). He'd managed to forget it. Even nine years of barely knowing the game existed wouldn't make up for that spectacular blunder. "Well obviously, but now you're minus a monster."

"No problem," said Terry. "I'll bring out a better one. I activate my trap card, Metalhold the Moving Blockade!"

"Isn't the point of a blockade that it stays in one place?" asked Billy.

Terry's eye twitched. "Why don't you ask the designers at Imanok Industries, hm? Now stop pissing me off or this game can end with a bullet through your brain." He put the gun to Billy's head for effect.

"Safety's on," said Billy.

Terry clicked it off. "Next smartarse comment?"

Billy swallowed. "So what does Metalhold the not-a-real-Blockade do?"

Terry lowered his arm, replacing the weapon in his desk. "It equips any number of my level four machines to it while summoning itself as a monster." He moved the card forwards into his monster zone (Lv. 4, ATK: 0). "I equip the Gold and Silver Gadgets on my field, adding their attack power to Metalhold's (ATK: 0 - 3200)!"

Billy whistled. "That's a big… whatever it actually is."

Ben said, "stop getting caught on semantics and play the damn game." Dec grunted in agreement.

Billy threw up his arms in protest. "It's not my turn!"

"No," said Terry with a predatory smile. "It's mine, and it's my battle phase! Command Dynamo attacks Sacred Soldier Apprentice!"

Billy sighed as he moved the card to his graveyard (Billy: 4000 - 3800). He was glad that real damage didn't exist, because if it did, the next one would hurt like a bitch.

Terry continued, "And Metalhold the Moving Blockade attacks directly (Billy: 3800 - 600)! That's the end of my turn."

Billy drew, and he knew what he should do instantly. "I banish Ghost Ogre and Super Soldier Messenger from my graveyard to special summon Black Luster Soldier - Envoy of the Beginning (Lv. 8, ATK: 3000)!" Billy was curious about the sly smile Terry wore, but paid it no heed. "With his effect, I banish Metalhold at the cost of not attacking this turn!"

Terry moved his cards without a word, and Billy sighed. That was about all he could do, but he definitely had an advantage now. What was supposed to be his deck's ace was standing strong on the field, unchallenged by any of Terry's monsters.

So why was the gangster still smiling? Had he played into his hands somehow? He felt something, a pull, an allure, and looked at his set cards. Instead of declaring the end of his turn, he flipped one of them as he realised what he'd done wrong.

"I activate the trap card, Beginning of Heaven and Earth!" He could only chuckle inwardly as Terry's smile dropped. "I pick three warriors from my deck, and you pick one at random. If it's a Black Luster Soldier or Gaia the Fierce Knight monster, it goes to my hand while the rest go to my graveyard."

"Win-win," mused Ben. "He gets a monster and grave set-up." Dec grunted something about futile efforts.

Terry said, "so what are the three cards?"

Billy selected them from his deck and showed them to Terry. They were Black Luster Soldier - Super Soldier, Black Luster Soldier - Sacred Soldier and Arisen Gaia the Fierce Knight. "Say, Ben. You remember the three-card monte days? Palming the queen and scamming any idiot who wanted a go?"

"Yeah," said Ben suspiciously.

Billy placed the three cards face-down and began shuffling them. "I never lost, now that I recall. How's your boss at games like that?"

Ben smirked. "Awful."

Terry shot him a pointed glare before turning back to the cards. "You'd better not have cheated."

Billy gasped mockingly. "Moi? I'm offended at the thought."

He pointed at the card on Billy's left. "I choose that one."

Billy flipped it and added it to his hand, putting the others in his graveyard. "Thanks for that, Terry; just what I needed, actually. I banish the Sacred Soldier Apprentice from my graveyard to special summon Black Luster Soldier - Sacred Soldier!" He threw the card down with authority, a grin beginning to break out (Lv. 8, ATK: 3000). He was starting to enjoy himself, to remember why he'd loved this game. He could once more imagine himself with a pro career and his name in lights.

Of course, he'd missed the chance at an education required by the American PDC, and he doubted the Platinum Corporation would be willing to market a man who'd spent the end of his adolescence in prison. Still, he could dream, and he could let his new hope guide him to victory. He would climb out of the gutter, by any means necessary.

He said, "the effect of Sacred Soldier returns a banished monster to my graveyard when it's summoned, and I'll choose Super Soldier Messenger!"

Dec barked a laugh. "Pointless."

Billy replied with his own laughter. "Ye of little faith. The same effect also banishes an opponent's card, and I choose Command Dynamo!" Terry grumbled as he removed the card from play entirely. Billy said, "now Sacred Soldier attacks directly (Terry: 3900 - 900)! I end my turn."

What started as a chuckle evolved into deep belly laughter as Terry struggled to get a hold of himself, his pair of lackeys similarly chuckling. "You could have won last turn, but you bodged it!"

Billy felt a vein pop in his forehead. "Call it a handicap."

Terry eyed him darkly. "You'll regret that handicap. It'll cost you an eye." He drew his card. "I activate Pot of Desires! By banishing the top ten cards of my deck face-down, I can draw two!"

Billy was confused. "That's a hell of a risk."

Terry winked. "It paid off, lad. I summon Green Gadget (Lv. 4, ATK: 1400)!"

"And add Red?" said Billy.

Terry said, "exactly. But now I'll send Red and Yellow Gadget from my hand to my graveyard to summon my strongest monster!"

Billy blinked. It wasn't like they were in a holographic field in front of a crowd of thousands, so what was the need to be so dramatic?

Terry said, "meet your end, Billy Blake, in the Boot-Up Admiral - Destroyer Dynamo (Lv. 8, ATK: 2500)! Once per turn, I can use his effect to destroy one card you control, and I'll get rid of that Sacred Soldier of yours!"

Billy flipped his final set card. "Trap card, Super Soldier Shield! This'll negate your effect that targets my monster and destroy your Admiral!"

Terry smirked. "Not quite. While I control a Gadget monster, Destroyer Dynamo can't be destroyed by battle or card effects!"

"You still don't have the attack points," said Billy.

"Not yet," retorted Terry. "The quick-play spell, Limiter Removal!"

Ben whistled. "It was entertaining while it lasted."

Dec said, "still not the best part yet."

"This doubles the attack points of all my machines, at the cost of destroying them at the end of the turn. Of course, the end of the duel will come first (BUA - DD ATK: 2500 - 5000, Green Gadget ATK: 1400 - 2800). Dread Dynamo attacks Sacred Soldier, and you lose, Billy."

"Nah," said Billy.

Terry looked at him as if he'd grown a second head. "What do you mean, 'nah'?"

The corner of Billy's mouth played up as he took one of his final two cards and showed it to his opponent. "I mean nah. Kuriboh, bruv."

The three men in front of him were gobsmacked. "No-one uses that card anymore…" said Ben.

Billy grinned. "Come on, mate, am I really that insignificant that I'm no-one?"

Terry looked at the field, his insides threatening to boil over. The monster had been destroyed, but his opponent still survived. He had no cards left, and no choice but to leave his fate to the hope of another misplay. "I end my turn."

"So both your monsters are destroyed," said Billy as he drew, not even looking at the card. "You're wide open. Envoy of the Beginning attacks directly to end it (Terry: 900 - 0, winner: Billy)!"

Terry began collecting his cards, a glum look on his face. He muttered darkly to himself about smartarses and psycho women and duels, but caught himself as he looked up to find Billy staring at him. "You may untie your own ankles."

The relief was palpable. He had won, somehow. He looked at his reassembled deck, Envoy of the Beginning staring back at him. He could have sworn he felt something, but it was probably just his excitement shining through as he discovered that he could actually do something. How could he have ever thought of selling them, his rope, a tie to his soul? He was more than just a criminal, more than just filth, and more than he'd ever thought himself to be.

As he released himself and stood, he nodded at Ben. He knew it was nothing personal, and he might still need favours. Best not to alienate the few allies he had. He was surprised to see Terry stick out a hand, but he took it anyway, wiping sweat from his brow that had congealed before he had noticed it with the other.

Terry said, "fair play, geezer. You can have time and space, but don't think about running. We'll be watching."

Billy exhaled slowly. "Fair do's, Terry."

"How you gonna get it for me, then? From the way you was speaking, sounds like you want to go straight. Hard to earn when you're straight."

Dec laughed. "He'll never go straight."

Billy glared at him and held up his deck. "I've found a useful skill, and there's money in it."

Terry narrowed his eyes. "Not much until the big leagues."

"Every little helps." Remembering, Billy shuffled around in his inside pocket, producing a crumpled flyer. When did it start again? "You got the time?"

Terry checked his watch, a silver Tag Heuer Billy hadn't noticed. "Five to ten."

Billy started. It had been close to ten when he'd been picked up. "In the morning?"

"Yup," said Terry. "You were out for a good ten hours."

"Shit," said Billy as he flew out of the door. He was in a dark and plain corridor with cracked walls and a staircase at the end. He ascended with a cacophony of creaking and opened the wooden door, its paint fading and chipped, and breathed in the fresh morning air.

He was still in Southwark, that much he knew. Idly, he wondered if he should have asked Ben for directions, but any of them could have led him astray out of spite. They acted sportsmanlike, but people were basically the same. He chose to turn left, remembering the Lee Child books he had read in juvie: when in doubt, turn left. It was as good a direction as any.

He looked for landmarks, but the cellar he had just emerged from was that of an old but well-kept town house, the same as the others on the impossibly long street he walked. It wasn't an upmarket neighbourhood, but everything was tidy and presentable. A steady stream of traffic went past him, the fumes invading his crinkling nose. The sun was bright, the clouds sparse.

After a couple of minutes of walking, he found what he was looking for: a McColl's store sandwiched between houses. He went in and asked for directions, noting the time on the clock as he walked past a man in a bicycle helmet. Fifty minutes until registration shut, or until the participant limit was reached. A bead of sweat fell, and he wondered if he'd make it.

He saw a mountain bike resting on the shop window, unchained and unlocked. People were stupid, thinking they could do things like that in London. Still, he was determined to change, determined to become better, and so he couldn't be like that anymore.

Still.

People didn't change overnight, did they?

He stole the bike and set off in the direction he had been pointed.

ED1: Shinedown - Better Version

AN: A chaos theme, eh, howEVER could that be relevant…

*Ahem*

Right, I said I'd be better with updates, so here we are a mere 2 weeks later with the first chapter of this one! Yes, Billy's a dick with an extensive criminal history. Yes, some weird Scottish woman is cosplaying Lady Light. How does she know? Well, this story actually starts in the Spring of 2029, whilst Reality's Curtain mainly takes place in summer of 2028 (alongside Mark of Death, funnily enough, and that will be reflected in the edits). So why jump ahead? I mentioned that in the AN for Chapter 11 of RC.

This one is a project I've been looking forward to for a long time, as you can tell by me starting it in the mid-season break of RC. It's the last single-protagonist work of what would be the RealityVerse's Phase 1 (thank you NovaZardX for the MCU comparison) so it'll actually tie together better than you expect. I hope.

Why did mysterious cloaked woman just give Billy a deck? What's all this about cards following people? All this and more shall be revealed… at some point.

As usual, here is a list of OC cards used in the chapter, since I'm too lazy to figure out how to make it work with already-existing cards. As a side note I won't beg for reviews, but it would be nice to know if you liked it. One line will do me.

Super Soldier Messenger
DARK/Warrior/Effect
Level 4
ATK: 1500 DEF: 900
You can send this card from your hand to the GY; add 1 'Black Luster Soldier' monster from your deck to your hand

Sacred Soldier Apprentice
LIGHT/Warrior/Effect
Level 4
ATK: 1800 DEF: 600
If this card is in your GY: you can banish it; special summon 1 'Black Luster Soldier - Sacred Soldier' from your hand