Well, after three months of writer's block, I return to you with a new chapter. Note that this is not the conclusion of the story, by any means. Thank you to everyone who has supported me through this difficult time. I hope that this chapter is worthy of your perusal. And, as always, thanks for reading.

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The castle that was home to the devious man known as 'Mordred' had seen quite a few things in it's time. It had stood and survived through world wars, barbarian invasions, neglect, and even an immigration to space - but, in all of it's two hundred and seventy four years it had never seen the links of anyone quite like the person who now walked confidently through it's halls, sword within easy reach in case any of the dark shadows lurking in adjacent hallways turned out to be dangerous.

Domon Kasshu looked around him at the ancient tapestries and suits of armor, all the while keeping one eye on the man leading him through this labyrinth. Domon doubted the diminished, red-haired man was any threat, but one could never be too sure. And, although he would never admit to anyone (even himself), Mordred's choice of décor disturbed him.

As long as he can help me figure out what Wong's planning, I guess it doesn't matter what he likes on his walls…

Even worse for Domon was the fact that he couldn't rely on very many people now. His Shuffle partners were all either missing or too preoccupied with their new lives to muddle about in the past. Rain was completely convinced that he was being an idiot. Even Allenby could not help him; he had not heard from her in several months.

Maybe Wong's responsible for that too?

He was interrupted from his thoughts by the voice of his escort.

"Right through here, Domon Kasshu."

He motioned to a pair of large, oak doors, but stayed back, as if afraid to go in himself. Domon didn't pay him any further attention; he unhesitatingly opened the thick doors with a light push and walked in calmly.

Before Domon stood a great table. Forged from solid marble, it was obviously made to seat a plethora of guests. Today, however, only two chairs occupied this enormous table; am empty one for him, and one at the other end. Sitting in this chair was a tall, thin man with raven black hair and eyes that seemed to be permanently narrowed. He looked up, and smiled at his guest.

"You honor me with your presence, Domon Kasshu. At last I get to meet the King of Hearts face to face."

Domon sat down and scrutinized Mordred. He sensed no hints of fear or deceit in his voice; only a warm greeting.

"We can skip all the formal talk. You said you wanted to talk to me about what Wong's up to, right?"

Mordred smiled again, and leaned back in his chair.

"Indeed I do, Mr. Kasshu. Up until this point, I've been helping you as much as I can without getting directly involved because I believed that Wong's plot was only to reconstruct the Ultimate Gundam. However, his real scheme goes much deeper - so deep, in fact, that I fear I may have to intervene myself to save the colonies from total war.

"What are you talking about?" demanded Domon.

"As you know, my foremost interest is in preserving the stability of the Gundam Fight so that Neo Italy may one day rule once again. To ensure that I could be of service to you and the Shuffle Alliance, I cultivated many political friendships and installed many of my loyal followers in positions where they would be able to report back to me with significant information. And with each bit of data they bring to me, the situation with Wong begins to look more and more grim.

"Get to the point." said Domon harshly.

Mordred frowned, but continued.

"In his time as Prime Minister, Wong has made many political allies and toadies from many nations. He has contacted them and offered them positions of power if they should come to his assistance."

"What does he want help for?" asked Domon out loud. "None of the other nations could help him get the specs for the Ultimate Gundam even if they wanted to."

"Maybe not…" conceded Mordred, "… but they could throw their weight behind Wong's ascension if he procures the specifications. For you see, Wong is not satisfied with merely being Prime Minister once more. Rather, he has taken a page from his friend Urube Ishikawa's strategy guide and decided to become Dictator of the Universe."

"What?!" exclaimed Domon, leaning forward in his chair.

Mordred looked up and straight into Domon's eyes. Try as he might, Domon could only see one of his eyes; the other one seemed to be cast in shadow.

"And with Neo Japan behind him, who will be able to stand against him when he eventually obtains the Ultimate Gundam's blueprints?"

"Neo Japan supporting Wong?! That's insane!"

"I assure you, my friend, that it is true. Karato himself is not to blame, but his circle of advisors are all no more than loyal henchmen of Wong. So too is Karato's replacement Gundam Fighter, Ikkitou Sen."

"There's only one thing I can do, then!" cried Domon. "I have to go back to Neo Japan and get rid of those impostors!" With that, the King of Hearts rose from his chair and strode towards the oak doors.

"Wait!" called Mordred behind him, rising from his own chair. "You can't go!"

Domon turned to look behind him at the man who had told him all of this; the man who had approached him in the first place and told him that Wong had survived.

"Why not?"

Mordred stepped out and made his way to Domon, hands spread apologetically.

"I realize that you want to take care of Wong right here and now, but the fact is that if you do now, you'll fall right into his trap."

Domon frowned.

"If you are to stop Wong, you cannot be impatient. We must both wait for Wong to make his move."

"We?" asked Domon. "I still don't get why you're so eager to take Wong down."

"My only intentions are to bring the Shuffle Alliance together once more. I am already working on locating the Black Joker and Queen of Spades. For now, though, please wait. We have no other options."

Domon gritted his teeth. "Then what do you think we should do?"

"For now, just wait. Wong will make his move soon enough. In the meantime…" With those words, he reached into the pockets of his cloak and produced a pendant, handing it to Domon.

Domon took the pendant and studied it. It was heavy, and the dominant feature was a large blue stone.

"What's this?"

"That will allow you to contact me, or vice versa. In this way I can inform you of information as it comes to me, and you can tell me if you manage to find any of your Shuffle partners before I do."

As Domon turned to leave, Mordred called after him. "Be on guard, King of Hearts. This is a dangerous time."

"Sure." replied Domon without turning back as he strode down the hall. Mordred watched him leave, and a look of amusement crossed his features.

Be on guard indeed, King of Hearts. With that pendant, it is only a matter of time until you are mine. Too long have I waited for this - in my name you will kill thousands of potential obstacles, and clear the way for our glorious revenge! Who is greater than I now? You will take them all in your hands, to caress them or crush them, whichever I see fit…

"… Master Mordred?"

Mordred look up with disdain at the man who dared to interrupt his thoughts. Standing in the doorway was the same man who had brought Domon here in the first place. He was just as tall as Mordred in terms of height, but seemed to shrink before him. Outrageous red hair dominated his appearance, but his bearing suggested nothing but humility.

"Speak quickly, Valdor. You are wasting my time."

Valdor flinched, yet he could do nothing in Mordred's presence but obey.

"Your agent has sent a second report."

Mordred held out his hand, and Valdor produced a thick folder. Mordred sat back down in Domon's erstwhile chair and flipped through the glut of pages casually,

"Conversation logs, travel logs, maps of both his home and the Paragon Institute… it appears everything is here, just as the agent promised…" Mordred paused and looked up at Valdor with disgust.

"Now get out. Your presence is loathsome."

Valdor retreated without another word, and Mordred turned back to the report in his hands, chuckling. That was one thing that he hadn't lied to Domon about. He had many allies - and now he had one more, a very important one - one who would keep him one step ahead of Wong.

"You should keep better company, old friend."

Elsewhere, on a distant asteroid in the orbit of the moon, Faulkner Essex sat in his private quarters. Though his true home was on the Neo Italian colony, his duty as head of Faulkner Enterprises and De Rol Le Industries, among the many other smaller companies he owned, took up quite a bit of his time.

A stack of legal documents to his side, he sat at his chair, an enormous monument of craftsmanship. He clutched a glass of wine in his hand, and stared into it's maroon depths intensely. Yet his eyes, shining with the gift of clairvoyance, saw more in that cup than wine. Much more.

Wong Yun Fat…

Taliesin Farkill….

Wong Ran Huang…

Gentle Chapman…

Mordred…

My sister…

Myself…

How will this tragic scenario end?

How many more will forfeit their lives?

How will this possibly benefit the people?

Wong… in what way are he and I alike?

Din Ho. The Golden Lotus. Neo Hong Kong's most lavish restaurant. It is in this gleaming alcazar that Wong Yun Fat and Sadira Kreuz have met once again. While the majority of the guests stare riveted at the screens that display live duels taking place a thousand miles away, Wong and Sadira are focused only on one thing: each other.

While each guest of the Golden Lotus is no doubt a member of the elite, those who are elite even among the elite can afford to eat away from the general masses. Thus it is that Wong and Sadira eat under the stars, seated alone on a balcony overlooking the streets. Just below them activity is omnipresent, in this city that never sleeps.

Wong was having steamed pomfret. Sadira was having Peking duck. Wong loved Peking duck. Sadira loved steamed pomfret. Both were sharing bites across the table, thinking nothing of it, and yet thinking of nothing else.

Wong dexterously maneuvered his chopsticks and lifted a piece of pomfret into Sadira's open mouth. She reciprocated with a sample of her Peking duck. Over them both, the moon and it's entourage of stars glittered like attendants in the courtroom of the firmament.

"You know, Wong, I never imagined things would happen like this." said Sadira as she finished her duck. "I always imagined that I'd die surrounded by machines… maybe an android companion, but certainly not anyone else."

Wong was silent; he merely allowed her to continue.

"It's been what, what, ten months since we first met?"

Wong nodded. "Ten months and four days, if you want to get technical."

Sadira chewed on both that and her duck before continuing. "I know you made mistakes in the past, and you didn't tell me about it, but I'm not mad at you anymore. Leading the entire world must have been stressful."

"It was, at times. It wasn't all pocky and flashy parties."

"We both have pasts that we'd rather but behind us, don't we?"

Wong's glasses slipped still further down his face, revealing eyes both understanding and sad - a strange sight for those accustomed to the sly, ambitious politician's gaze.

"I suppose you're right."

Sadira set aside her chopsticks and looked at Wong. She was wearing a sparkling red dress, and it's glimmer seemed to compliment her own eyes - eyes that seemed to be opening for the first time to see that there might not be just hurt and loneliness in the world after all.

"That's why… I want… to spend the rest of my life with you."

Wong met her gaze, and reluctant resolve met a tidal wave of emotion. "No, Sadira… you don't want that."

"Like I said, I know about what happened. You're not the villain that everyone would like to think you are. All you did was get enamored in your job… just like me. That's why I… I love you, Wong Yun Fat.

"I love you too, Sadira Kreuz." Chopsticks and meal were forgotten; now the two shared a passionate embrace over the table. Neo Hong Kong's neon lights seemed to glimmer approvingly.

Looking into the face of the only man who understood her, Sadira gently reached over and took the sunglasses from his face. She set them down beside his plate and looked at Wong unveiled. There she saw none of his usual amusement or pride, although his eyes looked the same in appearance. As eyes met eyes, so soul met soul, and Sadira looked into the prism of Wong's being. There she found compassion, fear, love, passion, and, lower, resolve and regret. Why?

"Say you'll marry me, Wong. Say we'll be together the rest of our lives. Say you'll never leave me."

Silence seemed to fall over all of earth and space. The moment lasted just a few seconds, and yet, it was an eon.

"No, Sadira. I cannot say those things. Any of them."

All of earth and space seemed to shudder. Overhead, a cloud moved into view, blocking the stars from view.

"… What?"

Wong looked into her soul, as she had done his. There he saw confusion, hope, and love. Below that he saw the soul that had sealed itself away for so long. This was the first time she had ever opened herself, ever lifted the curtains and opened the windows - and it was for nothing.

"I can't, Sadira. I'm sorry."

Sadira desperately searched his face. There she found only a sorrowful will.

"Why? Why, Wong? …. Don't you… love me?"

"Yes, I love you. More than you know. But I cannot come to you. I cannot join with you."

"Wong… I know you still have plans to get back into public office. I'd never begrudge you that. I don't want you to abandon the city you've lived in all your life. I can come to you."

"No, Sadira, it's not that… I cannot marry you. I cannot promise you I'll be with you the rest of your life."

As the clouds gathered in the sky above, so the shadow of reject and betrayal settled over Sadira's soul. So hopeful, and yet so afraid, she was completely unaware of what to do.

"I… I don't understand, Wong…. why…"

Wong's eyes flickered, but only a despondent wall remained.

"I'm sorry, Sadira. I cannot."

In that moment, the windows of Sadira's soul closed, and the curtains fell again. The doors were locked and bolted. Never before had she been so enclosed, and just so soon before she had been breathing fresh air for the first time.

"I see, Wong. You can't tie yourself down to someone, can you?"

"No, Sadira, it's not that." This time confusion entered his eyes - he was no longer aware of where she was coming from.

"No, I know exactly what it is. You don't want to hamper your career, "Mr. Big Bad Soon-To-Be-Prime-Minister-Again." You don't want to be seen with someone who isn't a ditzy bombshell or a Neo-Swede, is that it?!"

Wong was on the defensive now, which was what Sadira wanted; it prevented her from seeing the gaping hole in her own chest where her heart had been. He was about to say something, but Sadira cut him off.

"Well, you want to know something, "Mr. Prime Minister?" You can keep your parties, and your money, and the piece of me that wanted to love you as well. You can keep everything. If I'm not good enough to be seen at your side, then I suppose you'll just have to settle for a blue-haired vixen. Like that would break your heart.

Wong said nothing. Silence reigned once more. The whole of Neo Hong Kong seemed now cast in shadow by the clouds overhead; even the moon was hidden from view.

Sadira rose from her seat, knocking her glass of wine to the floor, uncaring. Icy calm settled over her eyes; a frail barrier holding back a cataclysm.

"Goodbye, Wong. I doubt we'll ever see each other again."

As she disappeared down the stairs and away from his life, Wong picked up his sunglasses and put them back on. Rain began to fall, frigid drops that pelted him. He didn't care. Tears and rain alike fell to the ground.

Neo Hong Kong wept in anguish; her son had made the greatest sacrifice of all.