A/N: All right, everyone, time for Chapter 23! Hope you enjoy reading it, as I had a strange time writing it. Some of the material is based on a concept I've had for a long time... now I know exactly where to put it.
Lumen: Sorry I couldn't accommodate you this time around, but I'm slowing the pace down a little bit to give people more time to read. That way they don't feel like they're falling behind.
Mira: I expected no less, considering your bias against Jade -- and you're welcome to have that bias, I've no objection. Makes the story more real when there are unlikable characters, doesn't it? But Jade just might one day prove her worth.
Monica: No real horse can hit 150 kph. You're on target in thinking that belonging to the magicians has something to do with it.
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Kyle jumped up, mounted his motorcycle, violently twisted the starter key, and pulled away from the warehouse, rear tire screeching. He brought the bike around the decrepit building as quickly as he could. Gray smoke belched from the twin mufflers and the front tire nearly rose into the air in the haste Kyle had put the vehicle.
C'mon, c'mon, c'mon…
He reached the other side, in time to see a pack of dark riders mounted on equally dark horses making for the highway. There was no sign of Monica that he could see, but his contact-enhanced eyes were able to pick out two riders on one horse, and only one of them – the passenger – was wearing the long, midnight-blue robe that seemed to be traditional for them. The other was dressed in baggy black clothes and sported a long, shaggy white beard. His equally long and shaggy white hair flowed around him and his passenger.
Kyle frowned. The jockey has to be a magician. But he's not wearing his robe. Could his passenger be Monica? That might make sense. They wouldn't want anyone else noticing her present condition, so he might have put his robe on her…
He pushed his motorcycle to move faster, to exceed the demonic speed of those horses. They'd already gotten a good lead; they were almost a kilometer away, and it was going to take some doing to quickly catch up with them and not blow out the engine at the same time.
He looked at his speedometer. He was already moving at 135 kph. He did the math in his head, and then muttered a curse under his breath. Damn… I'm moving at almost 80 miles per hour and I'm only now starting to move faster than them…I wonder what the guys at the horse-racing tracks would think of those things.
And he twisted the accelerator handle back even further. The engine roared in protest, but he wasn't ready to give up, not when he was so close. The needle moved up to 140, then inched slowly to 150.
C'mon, c'mon, don't let me down now; you're not even going a hundred miles per hour yet…
By this time they were on the four-lane highway, and Kyle was closing in on them. It felt impossibly slow to him. But then again, it's getting so that I can barely think and not think of Monica… c'mon, just a little further, just a little faster…
He wrenched the handle further. The speedometer needle moved to 165. There you go, now you're doing almost a hundred, and we're getting closer… c'mon, baby…
He was so close now; he could almost reach out and touch the horse that was bringing up the rear. The magician mounted on that horse was quick to notice – and challenge – this. He looked over his shoulder, saw Kyle there, glared, and reached out. A reddish aura surrounded his hand.
Kyle, on instinct, brought up his Millennium Shield to block the strike. As soon as the shield was up, however, he began to lose speed, since both the accelerator handle and the shield were on the right side. The wind screamed around the shield; the ensuing wind resistance caused him to lose even more speed.
The strike never came, and when Kyle brought the shield back down, he found he'd lost significant ground. "Damn it!" he muttered aloud. The words were lost to the wind and the engine as he resumed his speed. Brilliant, McCraine… that was just brilliant.
Kyle, mount the shield on your back. It will be able to protect you from further attacks as long you are a conduit for its power. The wind will not resist you nearly as much and you can keep your speed up.
I could keep my speed up if I just set this damned accelerator on cruise control, he thought, doing just that. Wish I'd thought of that earlier. But mounting the shield on my back… well, here goes…
Kyle let his concentration flow into the shield. It became bathed in golden light, and vanished from his arm. An instant later, he felt something warm stretch across his back and around his shoulders; he glanced at his left shoulder for a moment and saw that the arm mounts for the shield had become something more akin to shoulder straps. That's a handy trick. I'll have to remember that.
He looked back to the road. Okay, playtime's over. Time to get Monica back.
The motorcycle engine roared even louder as he urged it to move ever faster, to catch those magicians before they vanished – and Monica, along with them.
The magician who was bringing up the rear glared at Kyle again as the motorcycle came up to meet them. He reached out again, and this time released a bolt of red energy.
But Kyle wasn't afraid of it.
A golden aura surrounded him and caused the red bolt to rebound. It splashed harmlessly against the pavement.
Kyle grinned and urged the bike further into the pack.
More magicians spotted him. Multicolored bolts of energy sprang at him from all sides, but they were all turned away by the golden glow that had engulfed him, almost giving him the appearance of an angel on a motorcycle.
The engine continued to roar as he closed in on Monica and her captor.
"Monica!" he screamed.
--
"Monica!"
Her head perked up even further at his voice. The hood of the robe had been pulled down over her face and had been tied securely around her neck, effectively blindfolding her; there was no way she could toss her head and throw the hood off. She'd heard the motorcycle before, the whining of its engine. She didn't know how fast they were going, but if the bike was making a noise like that, they had to be moving a lot faster than a regular horse could run.
The sound of it falling back had made her despair and lean her head against her captor's back. Her arms were encircling his waist, though not by choice; her hands had been bound together in front of him. Her feet were not in a good position to kick anything but the horse, and that would only spur it to accelerate. If Kyle was this close, she didn't dare do that.
She'd also been giving consideration to yanking back very violently on the magician, possibly forcing them both to fall off the horse. But now that she was hearing the motorcycle engine whining as loudly as it was, she had a better idea of the speed they were moving, and she didn't dare do that now, either. Not onto the pavement. Come to think of it, she wouldn't really feel like doing it even if Kyle were directly behind her with open arms. I'd just drag this geezer with me and we'd all fall on his bike. Bumpity-bumpity-bumpity-SPLAT. No, not a good ending for this little story, she thought.
She struggled to make a noise that wouldn't be lost to the wind whipping around her. Not for the first time since this chase had begun, she wished that she wasn't gagged so that she could respond. She bit the cloth in her mouth and pushed at it with her tongue. Bastards. Won't even let me talk. I'll bet there's no one else around for miles, anyway, besides them, me, and him.
"Monica! I'm coming for you! Hold on!"
The voice was coming from her right side. She crossed her fingers on her right hand and tried to wave the hand at him as best she could. I am, Kyle... I'm holding on... just don't leave me...
--
Kyle wracked his brain, trying to think of a way to get Monica off the horse without injuring her or himself. He'd seen the crossed fingers and had briefly wondered why she wasn't moving her arms, then realized the reason. Duh. Of course they'd tie her up. And to the jockey, so she can't get off by herself. There isn't any more space on that horse, so I couldn't jump on it even if I wanted to...
The Shadow Realm, Kyle.
What about it?
Take Monica, the rider, and yourself to the Shadow Realm. The rules are as you want them to be there, provided you have the power to make them. And you do.
Good idea. Kyle brought up his left hand and opened it, fingers curled slightly. A dark, dense purple fog filled his hand within the cage of his fingers, and blue static crackled along his arm as he prepared to send the rider and Monica to the Shadow Realm.
He reached his hand out, ready to send the fog spewing forth–
Another horse moved between him and his target to cut him off.
Kyle glowered. His first instinct was to punch the horse in the side so that it would back off, but he imagined that probably wouldn't do much. The temptation then came to simply send that rider to the Shadow Realm, as well. He reached out and sent the fog to the rider, intent on doing just that.
The rider saw it coming from a million miles away. There was no possible way he could have missed it; he was looking right at Kyle as Kyle sent the fog to him.
But the fog didn't envelop him. It streamed around him.
As if somehow, he was protected from it.
Kyle frowned and concentrated harder, but to no discernible avail.
He spotted a smile from underneath the rider's hood. Kyle's eyes narrowed.
"It will take more than a little fog to send me away, Kyle McCraine!" the rider shouted. "I have business with you!"
"First order of business is for you to get out of my way!" Kyle responded. "Give her back!"
"She is not for negotiation!" The rider smirked at Kyle. "But I have a counter-proposal!"
"Whatever it is, forget it!"
"If I do, the next time you see her face, it will not be nearly so beautiful as it is now!"
Damn them! "What do you want?"
The rider held up his left forearm for Kyle to see. To Kyle's great surprise, a duel disk was strapped to it.
Kyle shook his head. "I'm not stopping now! I won't let you get away with her!"
"Then we shall duel as we move!" the rider responded.
Kyle looked down at his motorcycle, at the blindingly fast-moving pavement, and then at the speedometer.
165 kph.
Oh, you have GOT to be kidding me...
The rider smirked at him. "I did not think you would do it! You have not the courage necessary!"
Kyle scowled. He's one to talk.
Kyle, I think you should duel him.
...As many times as you've accused me of going mad, I thought you'd at least have the sense to avoid reciprocation.
Would you prefer they keep her and torment her?
Theoris, we're moving at a hundred miles per hour! Anything can go wrong at this speed! A single fly hovering over the highway could take out an eye! It'd be just as much torment to duel and keep up my speed and balance at the same time!
Kyle... would you prefer they keep her and torment her?
Kyle sighed. No... no, I wouldn't.
He looked back up at the rider and put on a look of fierce determination. "Fine! Let's duel!"
The rider's lips pulled back from his teeth in a wide grin. "Good!" Then, in a show of daring, he released his horse's reins for a moment and put them in his lap as he fiddled with his duel disk. He anchored the holoprojectors on the saddle in such a way that they wouldn't be jostled or thrown off the horse.
Kyle groaned. This is going to be a nightmare... He held the bike steady with his left hand while he snapped the holoprojectors out of his duel disk and mounted them on the bike with his right. The bottoms of the projectors were adhesive, supposedly so they could not be disturbed in the midst of transmitting their photonic signals; luckily for Kyle, they clung quite firmly to the bike.
Thank the powers-that-be for the automatic shuffler on this thing, Kyle thought. The shuffler whirred as it went to work on his cards, then ejected them into the deck slot a moment later. The segments of his duel disk snapped briskly together, and the counter read 4000.
The rider held up his duel disk's counter to show to Kyle, and Kyle could see the rider was more than ready. The rider moved to one lane of the road while Kyle stayed on the other. The rest of the pack backed away from the two.
Kyle ground his teeth. If they take an off-ramp, I won't know until it's too late...
The rider pointed at Kyle, indicating Kyle was the one to start the game.
Kyle tentatively reached for his deck and slipped six cards off the top. He shuddered and kept a death grip on the left handlebar.
Here we go...
As he pulled his hand of cards in front of his face, he couldn't help but think, What the hell am I doing? This is totally and completely insane.
Were it sane, it would not be the magicians you fight. They are mad for the power the shield denied them millennia ago.
Kyle sighed and perused the cards. I'd probably be better off not even trying to announce what I'm laying out. In this wind, it'd be nothing more than a waste of breath. He'll be able to see it all just fine, and if he's a duelist, he should be able to identify a good deal of the cards I've got... particularly if he was planning on dueling me. Now, how do I get this out of my hand without taking my left hand off the handlebar?
He settled on raising the cards to his lips and plucking his choice from among its companions. He repositioned the cards still in his hand, grabbed his choice from his lips with two fingers, and pressed it onto the field of his duel disk.
Slate Warrior (1900/400) in attack mode. Let's see how he deals with that. A golem of stone appeared in midair, hovering just a few centimeters above the moving pavement. Kyle nodded at the rider, indicating his turn was finished.
The rider again showed off by placing his horse's reins back in his lap for the duration of his turn – but he was smart enough to lean forward so that the wind resistance wouldn't lash him off the horse. Kyle couldn't see what the rider was doing, but the next few moments revealed three face-down magic/trap cards and one face-down defensive monster.
The rider pointed at Kyle again – Kyle's turn.
Kyle's shuddering right hand gingerly slipped another card off his deck. I really hope the deck doesn't fall out... that would be just my luck if it did... He glanced at the new card, then snorted. Hm. Okay. In the meantime, I'll just put a magic/trap face-down.
That done, he leaned down so that his mouth was close enough to his duel disk that his voice-activated orders didn't get lost to the wind. "Slate Warrior attacks face-down monster!"
In response, Slate Warrior jumped across the small expanse and punched a stone fist into the face-down. The card flipped over and revealed a graying, wrinkled old spellcaster wearing a pair of large glasses, cringing under the attack.
Stern Mystic (1500/1200). So he'll see my face-down Collected Power. On the other hand... Kyle scanned his opponent's magic/trap field as the rider's own m/t cards were revealed. He frowned. Damn. Forced Requisition, Aqua Chorus, and Trap Hole. He's counting on discarding, having multiple monsters of the same name, and me playing monsters with attacks of over a thousand. Best I find a way to destroy Trap Hole first, then I can worry about the others.
He looked back at his hand. I may need another defense, in case Slate Warrior can't cut it. So I'll put another monster on the field, this one face-down.
A face-down monster card appeared next to Slate Warrior.
Kyle looked back up at the rider; that was all the rider needed to know it was his turn.
The card he drew was the card he ended up playing, it seemed. Kyle watched carefully as the rider summoned Copycat (0/0) in attack position. That can take on the attack and defense factors of one opposing monster; in this case, Slate Warrior. So which will he attack? Slate Warrior's the bigger threat right now, but he needs some kind of defense...
Copycat reached out with its free hand – the one not holding a mirror up to hide its face – and sent a white discharge crackling towards Kyle's face-down monster. The card flipped up and showed Bombardment Beetle (400/900) exploding under the force of the attack.
No flip effect for you today, I'm afraid, Kyle thought as he discarded Beetle. He looked back up at the rider, who offered a mock salute. It was Kyle's turn once again.
Kyle drew – and very nearly lost the card he was drawing to the wind. As he tried to get a better hold on it, he began swerving to the left, leaning as he was on his left arm to hold himself up. He uttered several foul curses into the wind as he righted himself again, and he ignored the strange look he got from the rider.
He finally looked at the card he'd nearly lost, and he was about ready to choke. Augh! Good thing I didn't lose you! He gratefully slipped it into an available magic/trap slot. Mystical Space Typhoon. He leaned down to his duel disk and announced, "Mystical Space Typhoon targets face-down magic/trap card on opponent's right!"
A flash of lightning crackled across the field and singed the targeted trap card into nothingness. Goodbye to your Trap Hole. Now let's get down to business. Slate Warrior, you've served me well; now it's time for Black Dragon Jungle King (2100/1800) to hop to it. He removed Slate Warrior from the field, discarded it, and replaced it with his Jungle King. Alongside his bike appeared the trusty wingless dragon. "Black Dragon Jungle King attacks Copycat!"
The dark creature swept across the "field" and swiped at Copycat with its vicious claws. Copycat reeled and shattered, and the LP counter on the rider's duel disk dropped to 3800. Kyle nodded in satisfaction. All right, then.
The rider – correctly – took the nod to mean it was his turn. His moves were swift; one magic/trap face-down and one monster face-down; then he passed to Kyle. Kyle surveyed his opponent's field. Now an unknown magic/trap and an unknown monster... Aqua Chorus and Forced Requisition shouldn't be a problem, I don't think, long as I play my cards right.
He drew and considered his next moves carefully. Muka Muka (600/300) in attack mode should be adequate. With its nifty little 300 ATK/DEF per in-hand card bonus, it goes up to 1500 attack. And he's playing defensively for now, so it should be safe.
"Black Dragon Jungle King attacks face-down monster!" he announced.
Apparently the rider was expecting the attack. He quickly pressed one of his m/t activation buttons; in response, the last m/t he'd placed flipped face-up. Kyle chewed his lip and nodded. Negate Attack. His face-down must not be strong enough to handle an attack like that. And now I can't attack with Muka Muka, either. Shoot. He nodded to the rider.
The rider didn't seem interested in introducing anything new to his m/t field, but he sacrificed his face-down monster for another face-down. Kyle cocked his head. Wonder what the deal is there. We looking at high defense or high attack? Both, maybe, and wanting to evade a Trap Hole?
The rider gave the turn to Kyle.
Kyle looked over his hand once more, then nodded decisively. I know what I want to do with this.
Are you sure, Kyle? What of his Forced Requisition? If he activates it as he discards...
If this works, we'll both discard at the same time and I'll have no hand if he chooses to activate it. It wouldn't work at that point. I can't discard more cards if I've got no hand.
...True.
Kyle placed three magic/traps face-down in quick succession, and then a face-down monster. That clears out my hand, so Muka Muka returns to its original attack and defense of 600 and 300. Not good for an attack position monster. He turned his Muka Muka card to the side; correspondingly, the chittering, insectoid Rock-type monster huddled down closer to the concrete that was still screaming past at nearly 100 miles per hour.
He leaned down to his duel disk and repeated his order from last turn: "Black Dragon Jungle King attacks face-down monster!"
The dark creature leapt across the field again and clawed at the face-down card, but when it flipped up, it revealed another spellcaster that held its ground. Kyle's eyes narrowed. Illusionist Faceless Mage (1200/2200). Should've thought of that.
His LP counter descended to 3900. Small potatoes. He pointed at the rider, indicating his turn was done.
The rider swiftly pulled his next card from the top of his deck, scanned it for only a moment, then slipped it into one of his m/t slots and activated it. In a spray of light, there appeared a bulky man wearing equally bulky armor and holding a massive buster sword.
Kyle knew what that card was, and he rolled his eyes. Nobleman of Extermination. Damn it. Payback for making him lose Trap Hole, I guess.
The Nobleman charged into Kyle's m/t field and stabbed down into his rightmost card. The card flipped over and showed a small girl wearing a red cloak; she cowered before the attack and disappeared. In spite of the display, Kyle snorted. Destroying Novox's Prayer? My deck's only ritual magic card. So Skull Guardian won't be coming out this duel – big deal.
The rider ended his turn there.
Kyle drew and quickly looked at the card. Nah, this isn't worth the set or the summon for this turn. He held it firmly between his right hand's last two fingers as he reached over to his duel disk and flipped over the face-down monster he'd placed last turn.
On the field, the face-down card hovering over the roaring pavement also flipped up. A grayish jar containing an unholy smirk and an evil red eye appeared and laughed mockingly at the rider.
Need more cards to work with, I sure hope Morphing Jar (700/600) does its job of that. Kyle discarded the Kiseitai he'd just drawn and drew five new cards. He glanced up to see if the rider was at all interested in showing what he'd discarded. But the rider was already drawing his new hand. I guess not. I could request a graveyard search from my duel disk–
His bike shuddered momentarily, and he had to repress the instinct to drop his cards and grab the other handlebar to steady himself. Umm... how about... no. He let out a breath and drew in another one slowly. Okay. Focus. Theoris, tell me to focus.
You are doing a good enough job of that yourself, Kyle.
Say it anyway.
Very well. Focus. But not on me. Focus on the duel.
Right. He pulled up his new hand of cards and looked it over. To his delight, it gave some excellent options. All right. First these two magic/traps face-down... and then some sacrificing. Goodbye Muka Muka and Morphing Jar...
He discarded those two monsters to the graveyard and brought out their replacement. It manifested over his m/t field, almost completely blocking his view of the rider. It glimmered in the sunlight; its blazing neon blue eyes were looking around hungrily, and its roar could be heard even over the sound of the wind whistling in Kyle's ears.
Hello, Blue-Eyes White Dragon (3000/2500).