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Greetings, readers! Here it is, the sequel to Tokyo Tournament. I actually first wrote this prologue while Tokyo Tournament was still in progress, simply because I was bored. But now it's been slightly altered…a lot. Yeah…anyways, here we go!

Beneath the Surface
By G.O.T. Nick

Prologue: Nightmares

Void. An empty expanse of colorless, infinite blankness. Unlike space, there is no darkness, because there is no light.

Then, somewhere within the mass, a black thing appears. It is a shapeless thing that morphs its form constantly. Throughout its changing, it begins to absorb the area around it. And as it consumes, it grows.

Now beings of light appear to battle the darkness. They are small in number, but attack the darkness with enormous fervor. Their attempts are in vain, though, and the black mass begins to slaughter and devour them, one by one.

Finally only one stands against the darkness, and it is easily trampled over. The darkness, having defeated its foes, moves on, leaving only the remains of the final defender behind…

With the darkness gone, the remains of the final defender stirred…and something emerged from it…

-…Akasaka, Japan…-

Nick woke up. "Damn…" he muttered quietly as he sat up in his bed and wiped the sweat off of his forehead. He glanced at the red numbers of the digital alarm clock and suppressed a groan. 3:07 am.

He closed his eyes and tried to sleep again, but his attempts, as always, were futile. Ever since the tournament in Tokyo six months ago, he had had the same dream, every night, and always woke up at the exact same point. The dream frustrated him on so many levels. He could never get back to sleep after having the dream, leaving him drowsy the remainder of the day. Then there was the fact that he knew the dream meant something, but could never figure out what. The only thing he could interpret was that the darkness probably had something to do with the suited man that had appeared after the tournament had ended…


Suddenly, all those that were advancing on Youkai were picked up by some invisible force and thrown aside. Surprised but relieved, Youkai looked at his savior…and fell to his knees. "Master!" he cried, "You've come to rescue me! Oh, thank you! I promise I can defeat the pharaoh if you just give me one more chance to do so…" The one he was speaking to looked quite ordinary. It was a man, about six feet tall, with combed-back black hair. He wore a black business suit with a red tie, he was clean-shaven, and he walked so casually it almost seemed he was bored. However, his lips seemed to be permanently lifted at the edges, so that at the same time he looked constantly amused by something.

Youkai continued to ramble on about being given a second chance, but the man hardly seemed to be listening. After slowly pacing towards Youkai, he finally looked down at the being of darkness and said, very quietly, "Oh, shut up." And with that, he poked Youkai's forehead with his finger. Youkai howled in pain at the contact, and his body seemed to warp and change into painful positions before he vanished completely.

The man turned to face the group he had flung aside, and spoke, "I think we'll be seeing each other again soon." He waved his hand once, "Tootles." And then he was gone.

The rest was a mystery. So he, Shaun, Giyan, Yamato, Lin, Kirbin, and Term had decided to remain in Tokyo, each opting to stay in their own apartment. Joy, the girl who Kirbin had met and fallenin love withat the tournament, was currently staying with the pink-haired teen. Nick had kept in contact with them, but hadn't seen any of those he had gathered to protect the former pharaoh of Egypt, Yami, for the past several months…with one exception…

Shaun, who lay in the other bed in the room, let out a loud snore, shattering any and all hopes Nick had of possibly getting to sleep. Because he was still a minor, albeit a very strange one with many capabilities not even Nick was completely familiar with, Shaun had had to stay with one of the older duelists. He had chosen Nick, whom he was most familiar with and whom he believed would be the least boring to be around. The reason being that Nick was the most susceptible to Shaun's capability to annoy people.

Nick mumbled several words in an incoherent dialect brought on by drowsiness and frustration, and kicked the sheets off of his body. He then clumsily swung his legs over the side of the bed, and forced his torso to right itself. Then came the process of standing. If he wasn't going to sleep, he was going to be awake, not halfway between for four hours as he had been too many times in the past several months. His legs straightened, and he stood, somewhat unevenly. Without the sheets to cover him, it suddenly felt very cold. 'Damn radiator,' he thought to himself. He groped in the dark for a red jacket that hung on the bedpost, and tugged it on methodically. Then he made his way through the room to the bathroom. His shins assisted him in finding various obstacles.

After many muttered vulgarities that were drowned out by Shaun's snores, Nick reached the bathroom, and closed the door behind him before flipping on the light switch. Now with a door between he and the bedroom, he did not hesitate to curse as the sudden burst of light temporarily blinded him. "SHIT!" He squinted his right and only eye, shutting out most of the light.

Thus he was able to navigate his way to the sink, and he splashed a bit of water in his face. His eye became accustomed to the light, and he looked up at the mirror. His reflection stared groggily back at him. It was a strange image. His skin was a distinct tan shade, a tone uncommon to Japan. His scalp was covered by long, blonde hair, which hung over his forehead. Most of it was swept to the left so that it wouldn't cover his right eye. Sometimes Nick wondered vaguely if this skin-hair combination led some to believe he was some type of male Ganguro…

His most distinct facial feature was the eye patch, however, that covered his left eye. It was held to his face by a wide and strong yet thin strap, fit to his head. It was held secure by a buckle at the back of his head. The patch itself was slightly thicker than the strap, so that it thoroughly covered the eye. It was simple, conventional, and yet it covered a quarter of his face and made it impossible not to look intimidating.

This was the way Nick chose to appear, for reasons he never revealed to anyone. For reasons he forced himself to show to himself every day. He reached for the back of his head and undead the small buckle that held his eye patch in place. It clicked apart, and Nick removed the patch from his face. Beneath was a repulsive sight – a ruined eye, burnt and cut to an extent that it more closely resembled a broken blister than an organ. It was a deep red shade, with a few uncut areas a lighter color, and the surrounding flesh out to his nose, cheek, and temple was burnt black. His right eye moved independently of the other, the four muscles controlling it no longer able to function due to lack of practical use.

Because of the injuries Nick had lost nearly half of his field of vision, and in addition his depth perception was limited. He had dealt. It was not physical limitations that plagued him because of his lost eye, it was the accompanying mental terrors; because in addition to the dreams about the future, he was having some preceding them that regarded the past. Nick used his left hand to brush back his bangs, and with the right began to trace a path he knew all too well down his face. He lifted his fingers at several integrals, in their wake revealing a network of scars that he had hidden from the world ever since he had received them. Only two other people had ever known about these scars. One was dead, and the other had shown him how to cover them. But nothing could be done about the eye. His helper did not know enough about illusory magic to create the image of an operating eye.

Nick finished tracing the scars. They began at the ruined eye, the two largest traveling through it, one running from his temple all the way down his cheek and the other from the middle top of his forehead to just above the back of the cheek. The remaining were smaller, most looking like stabs made with a dagger, an occasional one being slightly longer. Two ran across his face, one going through his upper lip and the other along his jaw. All told there were perhaps fifty scars, covering his entire face save the area around his unharmed right eye and his nose. There seemed to be a pattern to the scars, as the marks on his lower face were perfectly mirrored. These were marks he could never erase, only cover up, as he had done with cloth when he had competed in the tournament months ago, and with magic afterwards.

He was ashamed of the marks that tainted his skin. Ashamed both of his appearance and the memories. Ashamed that the memories had been haunting him each and every night. Ashamed still more that he was haunted by the future. Ashamed that the nightmares were defeating him. He forced himself to look at his face and his eye so that when the memories attacked him, they would not have as great an effect. In order to keep the door holding back the pains of the past from bursting apart, he had to crack it open every now and then to relieve some of the building pressure. The dreams were not so harmful now as when he had first experienced them, but after six months, he was growing tired. The only way to avoid dreams is to not sleep, and this is impossible for the mortal and weak.

Nick finished examining the marks covering his face, then traced back over them with his fingers, shrouding all except the scars that were actually on his eye. He put the eye patch back on, and clicked off the light. Feeling slightly more calm and at peace, he left the bathroom, and made his way swiftly back to his bed. Nick wished, ironically, that the suited man would hurry up with his damn plan so he could just deal with it instead of putting up with the anticipation, the memories, the foresights, the nightmares. As the thought occurred to him while he sat down on his bed, he smirked and chided himself, 'Be careful what you wish for…'

Nick began to change his clothes, trading his nightwear for street clothing. As he pulled on his shoes, he glanced at the alarm clock again. 3:15 am. He sighed, and pulled his Duel Disk out of a dresser. He put it on and grabbed his deck off the nightstand. He was tired, but he wasn't going to get anything done here. Maybe he could release his frustration at a dueling arena. And even if he couldn't find someone to battle this way, there were sure to be some morons out at this time of night, just waiting for someone to give their money away as they fell to the pavement. Nick cracked his knuckles and made his way to the door. He opened it, making sure he had his key with him, and went out into the night.


Nick has awaited the coming of an evil force for months, and his waiting will end soon. But as he, Yugi, and the others are exposed to the true magnitude of the coming assault, they realize that they are not enough to impede its success. What can they do to defeat the mysterious evil?

Next time: Battle the Darkness-Rally the Troops!

Yes! I have done it! I have…posted…the…pro…logue…yay…

But still, it's better than nothing, right? Expect chapter 1 soon. See ya!