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From the heart, I thank you. I cannot stress that enough.
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It was a draw.
Kite Tenjo versus Zane Trusdale ended in a draw.
Raymond didn't know what to make of that.
The first thought was: 'That was some overcomplicated bullshit.' All the twists and turns amounted to nothing. Like a draw between a mixed-martial artist and a karate wannabe. Kito had better cards, better strategies, and a versity of maneuvers. Zane was a relic of an era long past its prime. It was plot armor that prevented Zane from losing, but even the script writers knew what level of bullshit they were on if they let Zane win too, so they settled for a draw.
"Let's give a round of applause for our two voice actors and our participants!" The announcer enunciated. Bowing to the audience, they took turns waving thanks as they made their way off the stage. The semi-finalists have the front row seats; Raymond sat next to Dylan, Dylan next to Travis, and Travis next to Alec McGregor. Alec was a nobody, at least to the three of them. Raymond definitely never met him, and from the looks of it, neither had Dylan or Travis. Which is kind of weird, to be honest. Who was Travis's tag team partner on Day One? Shouldn't he be with him? The same question could be applied to Alec. What special circumstances led to this?
"Now, to continue on with Duelist Kingdom! We have our first semi-final, Raymond Novak versus Travis Eldon Lawrence! Please make your way up the stage!"
The spotlight snapped to Raymond so fast that his brain misinterpreted it to be an incoming attack. Jesus Christ, just thinking that made him feel embarrassed; a cat chasing a dot of laser embarrassed. So bright, that the color of his blonde hair blended so elegantly with his skin. Hands shading the eyes, he saw the only other spotlight was on Travis of course, and Dylan caught in between and Alec getting roped in from the edge. All four of them had trouble seeing.
It was either some idiot screwed up with the brightness setting or that they didn't realize the auditorium was that dark until they were forced out of it.
Dylan breathed a sigh of relief as the spotlight followed away when Raymond and Travis finally walked towards the platform.
The crowd went wild at the first step on the stage. Whether it was courtesy or actual hype for their dueling prowess was beyond the question. It'd be kind of nice if they were cheering for his dueling prowess though, reminiscent of the cheers of unruly gamblers betting on his victory in the ring. Not because he enjoyed it nor did he despise it, but because of its familiarity. Familiarity which bred confidence. Confidence wasn't going to increase the odds in his favor, but it was better than plain old defeatism.
Maybe it was just Raymond, but Travis moved like a snake. Had he always walked like a snake? Or was this Raymond's own mind tricking him into thinking Travis as more and more of an enemy? More… despicable. It sure was working; he could feel his hatred growing. How could he hate a man he only known for less than a week? It was that he reminded him of his father.
Just like last time at the cafe, and now this time at this duel. Travis was lucky that he shared no other relations with his father. Otherwise, he would make him pay for the sins of the father. Nevertheless, Travis can not win. He must not win. Raymond's anger would be unmatched if he does win.
"Now for those of you just joining us," The announcer smiled at the camera. "Let me once again explain…"
"You won't last three turns, Mister Novak." Travis blurted out whilst the rules were being re-explained to the audience, both off-stage and back home.
"What makes you say that? Perhaps I might beat you in three turns."
"It's written in the stars," Travis facetiously said. "I have the favor of destiny on my side."
It ticked Raymond off, though he didn't show it. Instead, he gave a little leer and carried on like a gentleman. Funny, wasn't it? The concept of destiny was such a benevolent comfort when it suited him; all of a sudden it became the worst thing man had ever concluded to when it didn't suit him. But what could he expect from himself? He realized that he never believed before that there was any truth, only power existed to dictate what was true and what was false.
He didn't know how to respond to that. But he… prayed he would in time. Whether in seven days or seventy-seven years, he hoped that at least one day, he could. By then, he hoped, he would come to see that his mother was not wrong. There is such a thing as the Truth, eternal and unchanging. That she was indeed wise in her choice in how she lived, worshiping God who never showed Himself even once. She wanted him to live as she did, and now came the time to do it. For her, for her honor.
"I'm opening my heart up here… I'm willing to accept you into my heart and praise Your name… Heck, I'll dedicate my whole life to You."
Those words he said back at that hospital chapel came back to his memories. The deal he made that he would dedicate his life—as Mom did hers—to Him if He did this one thing for Him. How could he forget?
Forget it. The deal was off.
He was going to dedicate his life whether he wins or not. If he wins, then all praise be to God. If he loses, then why the hell would he want to enrage the One who has the power to destroy both body and soul in Hell? The only reason why he would enrage Him was if his family were there too; but Mom certainly wasn't, and and he could confidently claim that Reynalda wouldn't.
'Coward.' His past self would've repulsed and revolted against what his soul was saying now. His past self was wrong. What? Did this miserable clown wrought from his memories think it was going to get a concedance followed up by a flimsy excuse in justifying how he could hold the two contradiction at the same time.
No. it would not get a concedance. He was wrong, and now he was right.
Raymond folded his arms together and leaned back against the chair once he finished shuffling Travis's deck as Travis shuffled Raymond's. He dared. "You want to bet?"
"Oh?" Travis raised a brow. Smiling, grinning, all too amused with Raymond's seemingly childish antic. "After what happened last time?"
"I begged for mercy, Travis. I didn't break off the gamble and stormed out of that cafe with my stuff, did I?" Raymond rebuted, leaning forward, inches closer every five second. He was goading Travis on, trying to play into his overconfidence. "I won't beg this time."
"And what would you want from me, Mister Novak?" Travis continued shuffling the deck, although he had shuffled enough. Raymond had gotten his attention. Good; there was something he wanted to try out.
"Your luck."
Travis stopped shuffling. "Pardon?"
"You heard what I've said." Raymond affirmed, unfolding his arms and aggressively pressed his hands on the table. "If I win, I get your luck and whatever else that is benefiting you."
Travis chuckled, shaking his head in disbelief. "Mister Novak, you can't possibly think that it's something tangible I can give to you. It's ludicrous!"
"Doesn't matter, I want it."
"If you want to make this foolish attempt, so be it." Travis sighed, still chuckling. "In return, when I win, I want all the money you have on you and your cards too."
"I accept." Raymond reached out his hand, waiting for Travis to offer his. Travis looked, his hand hovered, and his hand was half-closed. Travis was seemingly hesitant, putting it the best way he could. Come on… come on…! Take the bait.
"Very well, Mister Novak." Travis took Raymond's hand. "I accept this wager. And this time, there will be no mercy."
Raymond had him. "I summon the Almighty God upon us as witness to bind our words."
A gust of wind made its way out from the air vent above and descended upon the two men.
Fear. True, unabashed fear washed over Travis's face as his hand squeezed Raymond's so hard that Raymond could feel the trembling. Both fear and anger, with an added element of shock and dismay. Was… was Travis even starting to sweat? It was as if Travis felt something was behind both of them and it was anything but an idle manner.
Unexplained strength pulsed from Travis's hand to Raymond's, as he found it difficult to break free from Travis's tight and twisted grip. Which was quite an achievement itself, considering his own strength. Every second that passed, Travis got more and more… Honestly, Raymond didn't know the best way to describe it. He wasn't petrified, but more as in he truly had stakes in the game now, as if he didn't before.
So, there was something that Travis was afraid of, after all?
Everything seemed silent and time went slowly for them. Neither of them spoke anymore for the rest of the duration before the duel was about to begin.
Given all this reaction he was getting from Travis, it was safe to assume that it worked. He added the title 'Almighty' to be extra cautious, just as how priests ended their congregational mass. And it told him something else too: that Travis knew it would work.
Was this how Travis got this supernatural luck? He gambled against God for His favor? Wait, no, that wouldn't be possible even in a theological sense; he was pretty sure that somewhere in the Bible said that looking at God's face would kill him. And look at Travis; a man of constant adultery would definitely not survive looking at the face of ultimate goodness.
It had to be this way.
So, Travis gambled somebody for their luck, but then that just presented the problem of infinite regress. Unless, he combined the two theories together. God willingly gave a man His favor, and that man lost it in a gamble. And ever since then, it has been passed down from one to another like an emperor overthrowing his predecessor and bestedd by his successor. How long this had been going on remained a mystery, but it probably hadn't been going on for that long.
The fact that this wasn't even close to common knowledge and the decline of religion led to the hypothesis.
"It's time to duel!" the announcer screamed. Raymond was snapped out of his train of thought and the announcer retreated to the shadows as a disappearance act.
"Would you like to go first or second, Mister Novak?" Poisonous and subtle, Travis's hiss permeated. "I don't mind either result."
Raymond narrowed. "I'll take the first turn."
[TURN 1 Raymond Novak LP/8000 Hand/5]
There were no spells or traps in his starting hand, only monsters. Damn, maybe he should've taken the second turn instead. Three of them were unsummonable: all three copies of his Galaxy-Eyes Photon Dragons. His own, his sister's, and… his mother's…
"Mommy! Mommy! Can we buy this card! Please! Please! Please!"
"Sweetie, you have the same card at home. Why do you want another one?"
"Because Sis always gets to play it before I do! I think that one doesn't like me!"
"Raymond, it's just a card. It's not alive to pick and choose who it likes."
"But Mommy! It sure acts like it!"
"Fine, I'll buy you one and one for myself."
"Why do you want one?"
"Because in case your new one doesn't like you either, I can stuff mine with all of my love and give it to you. It definitely will learn to love you like I do."
"Really!?"
"Now what do you say when someone does something for you, Raymond dear?"
"Thank you, Mommy!"
He felt it then when he was only five years old and he felt it now. She was only playing along with his childish and ridiculous power fantasies, but that didn't mean she didn't do as she said. Her love was with him, packaged and wrapped in a piece of cardboard spanning three inches in height and two inches in width. Something so big in something so small.
She was with him.
Raymond renewed himself. He must play the best he can, even if the odds are not in his favor. "I special summon Galaxy Brave by revealing Galaxy-Eyes Photon Dragon in my hand!"
[ATK Galaxy Brave: LIGHT LV/8 Warrior/Effect ATK/0 DEF/0]
"I then normal summon Galaxy Wizard and increase its level by four."
[ATK Galaxy Wizard: LIGHT LV/4 — 8 Spellcaster/Effect ATK/0 DEF/1800]
"I xyz summon! Number 38: Hope Harbinger Dragon Titanic Galaxy!"
[ATK Number 38: Hope Harbinger Dragon Titanic Galaxy/2: LIGHT RK/8 Dragon/Xyz/Effect ATK/3000 DEF/2500]
"I end my turn."
[TURN 1 Raymond Novak LP/8000 Hand/3]
This should be good enough to last him at least one turn. The most important card in the game is a spell card. Trap cards were too slow as he must set and wait for one turn. Monsters are less limiting, but he was limited to one free summon in attack position. Sure, there are special summons, but those are costly. Spells are the best: they can be played straight away, they do not need to wait for one turn if set unless it was a quick-play, and there were no limits on how many spells one could play in a turn.
Throughout the entire tournament, Raymond has found spells to be the thing to most focus on. If Raymond can figure out which one of Travis's spells was the key card in his combo plays and disrupt it, his chances of winning would soar far higher.
Of course, this didn't mean the plan was going to be a success. Harbinger's effect was public knowledge; Travis definitely knew to be careful not to have his key card negated. Was he going to play a decoy card and hope Raymond negated that? Or was he going to play his actual key card hoping Raymond would think it was a decoy card and let it slide?
This was made even more difficult when he didn't know what kind of deck Travis was playing whilst Travis certainly knew Raymond's. Hopefully, it'd be one of the decks Raymond had faced before in this tournament.
Travis, all the phlegmatic, drew his card.
[TURN 2 Travis Eldon Lawrence LP/8000 Hand/5 — 6]
"Pot of Extravagance; I banish six random cards from my Extra Deck to draw two cards.
This was a game of chicken. Was Travis trying to bait out Hope Harbinger's spell negation effect or was this a card he really needed? If it weren't for the clause stating that it could only be activated at the start of Main Phase One, Raymond would've instantly negated it. It would've lean more towards the side of resource collection. The pot's prohibition of drawing anymore cards hinted at desperation, and he would've had to start the duel with one less card.
But that wasn't the case. Raymond had to toss a coin.
"Hope Harbinger negates."
Travis grinned.
He tossed wrong.
"I activate Volcanic Spirit, if I control no monsters, this spell allows me to special summon a level four or lower Volcanic monster like Volcanic Rocket from my deck! Which in turn let me add Blaze Accelerator from my deck, to which then I will activate!"
[ATK Volcanic Rocket: FIRE LV/4 Pyro/Effect ATK/1900 DEF/1400]
"Also, you get inflicted five hundred points of damage in return for Rocket not being able to attack this turn."
[TURN 2 Raymond Novak LP/8000 — 7500 Hand/3]
"I activate the continuous spell, Volcanic Wall! Once per turn, I can send up to three cards from the top of my deck to inflict five hundred more damage for each Volcanic card sent!"
[TURN 2 Raymond Novak LP/7500 — 6000 Hand/3]
"Well would you look at that!" Travis exclaimed, pleased with the result. Three Volcanic monsters: Shell, Counter, and Scattershot. "Scattershot adds another five hundred!"
[TURN 2 Raymond Novak LP/6000 — 5500 Hand/3]
Damn it! It's a burn deck. Raymond had no efficient counters for decks focused on effect damages. Sure, he had general negates, but those would be wasted away either due to the effect damages or the other cards he had in his arsenal, plus the fact that he was still going to get burned anyway because burn decks slowly poked away his life points with numerous cards, not just one card with massive damage.
"Volcanic Shell activates from the graveyard! I can pay five hundred life points to add another Shell from my deck!"
[TURN 2 Travis Eldon Lawrence LP/8000 — 7500 Hand/2 — 3]
"Blaze Accelerator activates! By discarding a pyro type monster with five hundred or less attack points, I can target and destroy your Harbinger! In exchange for not being able to attack this turn, of course."
NO! So, it was a burn deck with the capability to destroy cards as well? That was double the trouble. Raymond was now not only opened to a direct attack, but no defenses or counters as well.
Shouldn't panic yet. Blaze Accelerator had locked Travis out of the Battle Phase, so his chances of surviving this turn were good. He just had to hope that the effect damage wouldn't be enough to wipe him out. Travis only had so many cards to play, and the damage pattern was in multiples of five hundred, with most of them just staying five hundred. He should be good, but he had the feeling that he wouldn't.
"I now normal summon Royal Firestorm Guards, which when normal summoned, I shuffle four pyro monsters in my graveyard into the Deck and draw two cards."
[ATK Royal Firestorm Guards: FIRE LV/4 Pyro/Effect ATK/1700 DEF/1200]
"I overlay Royal Firestorm Guards and Volcanic Rocket to xyz summon Volcanic Blazing Hawk!"
[ATK Volcanic Blazing Hawk: FIRE RK/4 Pyro/Xyz/Effect ATK/2000 DEF/1500]
"I can detach one material and pay a multitude of five hundred life points to special summon one token to your field for each five hundred I've paid!"
[TURN 2 Travis Eldon Lawrence LP/7500 — 5000 Hand/3]
"These tokens can't be used for any type of summoning, whether special summoning or tribute summoning, nor can they change their battle positions! And you take five hundred damage each time one leaves the field!"
[5 X ATK Volcanic Tokens: FIRE LV/1 Pyro/Token ATK/500 DEF/500]
No… his monster zones… they're all filled with these unwanted weaklings! How was he going to summon now!? The only zone left for him was the Extra Monster Zone, which was useless. Even if the tokens could be used, he couldn't synchro summon because there were no tuners, nor could he xyz summon because tokens were not an acceptable material. The only summoning method left for him was to fusion summon from the hand. He had no fusion cards in his hand; how in the world was he supposed to do that?
"It's over, Mister Novak. I told you this duel would end quickly and alas, my words have come true."
No. As he said before: he must play the best he can, even if the odds are not in his favor.
"If I have a Blaze Accelerator on my field or in my graveyard, I can activate Outburst Blaze Accelerator to pay five hundred and special summon a Volcanic from my deck, ignoring its summon conditions!"
[TURN 2 Travis Eldon Lawrence LP/5000 — 4500 Hand/2]
"Please, Mister Novak, give a warm welcome to Volcanic Doomfire!"
[ATK Volcanic Doomfire: FIRE LV/8 Pyro/Effect ATK/3000 DEF/1800]
Damn… Volcanic Doomfire. He remembered this card from his school days. During his battle phase, he must attack it with any attack position monsters he controlled. And when Doomfire destroyed a monster and sent it to the Graveyard, it'd destroy all monsters he controlled and inflict five hundred damage to his life points for each monster destroyed by this effect.
Essentially, he was trapped. When his turn comes, he'd have no choice but to attack with the tokens, whom themselves each carried a bomb of five hundred life points. That, and Doomfire would result in five thousand points of damage. And that was just effect damage alone! Add another twenty-five hundred from the battle and that'd take the remaining five hundred life points Raymond would have left!
"I set a card and end my turn." Travis was enjoying this, enjoying crushing him absolutely. Revenge for summoning God.
[TURN 2 Travis Eldon Lawrence LP/4500 Hand/1]
Hand on the deck, it lingered in the state of limbo. It wasn't drawing the next card nor was it moving away from the deck. It was just there, hanging on the balance. Afraid to draw, afraid to be let down. He knew he said that he would play the best he could even if the odds were against him but… now he was starting to doubt. Out of all times, now was when he was losing his spine.
He had his mother with him. He had his sister with him. He had himself. But they weren't enough. Even with the three of them together, they were helpless against their opponent. If he only could draw out the one ingredient to fuse them all into one, a powerful one whose explosive strength could cut off even the strongest of enemies, and destroy all his adversaries completely. He needed God.
He must believe that God was here. He must believe that God was on his side, that He would see that it would be better to side with the violent sadist who admitted that he had hurt numerous people in different ways, including his own flesh and blood, than to side with an unrepentant adulterer who eats and sits as if he had done nothing wrong.
He had given God his devotion. Now was the time for God to respond. Please, for his sanity's sake, say something.
He drew the card.
[TURN 3 Raymond Novak LP/5500 Hand/3 — 4]
God answered.
"I activate Polymerization!"
The act surprised Travis when Raymond drew the right card for the right time. Not to mention that he was kind of shocked that Raymond put not two, but three Galaxy-Eyes Photon Dragons into his graveyard.
"I fusion summon Galaxy-Eyes Hypernova Dragon!"
[ATK Galaxy-Eyes Hypernova Dragon: LIGHT LV/12 Dragon/Fusion/Effect ATK/4500 DEF/3800]
"That's impossible!" Travis caught himself almost slamming the table with his fist. "That's a prize winner card! With no reprints, there could be only one in the world! How did you—!"
Travis then realized and snapped his head towards the seats. His eyes narrowed in raw yet contained anger at the man who was one year Raymond's junior, wearing that brown leather jacket a fighter pilot would, and that grin on his face as he swerve those jet black hair back. To be honest, he was looking swag with that composure.
"Dylan." He sneered. "So he hates me that much, huh? Can't say I blame him. I am better than him in every way; the weak will always be jealous of those who have more than them."
God, please add arrogance to his list of naughty deeds.
"This one is from Trudeau." Raymond redirected Travis's attention to himself again. "If Hypernova is special summoned, I can banish all cards you control face-down!"
"WHAT!?" Travis jolted up from his seat. He then promptly sat down. "Well then I activate my trap, Breakthrough Skill! I can target your monster and negate its effects!"
"Useless! I chain Hypernova's quick effect! By destroying itself, I can inflict damage to you equal to its original attack!"
[TURN 3 Travis Eldon Lawrence LP/4500 — 0 Hand/1]
The crowd gasped. Their mind's eyes blinded for a moment, stuttering in their sounds. Subsequently, the rush kicked in and they took in more light than anyone would've expected, every part of them broke out of statis when their thoughts finally caught up. After a wash of cold they step from the shadows, feeling a new warmth to the day.
Travis Eldon Lawrence didn't fare any better. He was white as chalk, brittle as one too. His eyes and his mouth were frozen; neither tight shut nor wide open. In an expression of stunned surprise, keeping some degree of integrity. Although he was staring straight at the board with pure intense adrenaline, he appeared not to be on Earth at all.
"Did… did I just lose?" Travis finally spoke. After all those minutes scrambling for words inside his mind's puzzle, that was all he could come up with.
Raymond shifted in his seat, taken to a plane of metaphoric existence. The stake was in his right hand, the holy cross in his left. Facing down the undead vampire who refused to believe he had been best by a mere human man, and supported by an unseen benevolence. One word, and the strike would send the creature back to its dirty, ugly coffin. No amount of deniance could strike down the truth trampling out the vintage where the lies are grown.
"Yes." Raymond proclaimed. "Yes, you have lost."
In one, the hearts of the crowd, uproared in cheers. They couldn't believe it: the unbeatable has been beaten. Not only beaten, but totally humiliated. World champion titled 'King of Games' for two years in a row, undoubtable millionaire with two jackpots under his belt, thus can afford the best cards known available to mankind—even if he didn't because of his incredible fortune—lost to essentially a novice playing with hand-me-down cards.
It was the classic tale of David and Goliath.
Pawn in God's plan, was he now? Hindsight was indeed clarity. To Travis, he was given his chance to do whatever that God wanted him to do. He chose not to, and so now He built him up big and strong, and seemingly unstoppable, to finally crumble and give up what he had to somebody with no power to stop him. So weak for Travis, that Raymond could not become boastful and say that his power intellect and strategy had delivered him victory.
Travis was the man cursed with the task of gathering and storing up his fortune to hand it over to the one who didn't toil for it.
Now, only one more opponent was left and Raymond was going home with the money for the cure and celebration tickets for her recovery.
The electrocardiogram machine finally showed that Reynalda returned to her normal heartbeats. She awoke as if she was in dire need of a savior—because she did—as if sleeping had been death's calling to her. Once she did, her heart beated fast again, defeating the whole purpose of the doctors and nurses surrounding her who worked hard to stabilize her heart rate. Buzzing was bouncing around in her brain and together they panicked the nerves.
Once that was over, her brain went flat on the adrenaline rush.
"Oh thank God!" The intern Rhoads breathed a huge sigh of relief. "I thought we were going to lose you!"
That was it. That was all she heard. The doctors were most certainly talking to her about how she was on the brink of death and how she was lucky to be alive right now, but she tuned it all out. All she could think about was what she dreamt of, or what she saw if it wasn't a dream. It was more real than her usual dreams. She didn't feel it, she knew it. A vision extraordinary.
She was at Mom's birthday party; not as kids, but as they were now. All grown, with all the memories of her death and beyond; couldn't be a memory. Raymond brazened into the kitchen room with an ice-cream cake in his hands and thirty candles lighting his face. Topped with frozen strawberries, little melon balls, chocolate shavings, and many other things she could've ever wanted on an ice cream cake, Mom as well.
'Happy Birthday, dear Mother~!' He was walking to them, where both she and Mom admired his most talented singing.
And the smile… God! That smile! She hadn't seen a smile so genuine, so abundant of happiness that he could have the Spring season at his beck and call, in such a long time! The black marks he had in his soul was eradicated, leaving nothing to hinder the light from transfiguring him inside out, radiant in the luminance of the shimmering galaxy. It was beautiful.
Mom blew out the candles in one blow. And at that moment, the revelations were allowed to be revealed to her.
God wanted her to die.
He showed her what would happen if she lived. She and Raymond would take a long vacation to the Tropical Caribbeans, where they would relive their childhood innocence and happiness. Then, when they got back home, he'd introduce her to a friend younger than the both of them. A friend of his was a friend of hers. But that friendship would blossom beautifully into something else. Something romantic.
She would have two boys and two girls, and she would love them all dearly with her husband. Raymond would find himself love too and give her nephews and nieces, who would sometimes visit her when Raymond visited and play with their fellow children. They would grow up into something she would be proud of. Her life was going to go happily ever after.
And then that vision ended.
He flung her across the years the future had yet to see, of the world Raymond had to live in where she died. He had to live days of rages and nights of strife; his life became of misery, all in his own making. Those unborn children she so happily cherished were stripped away from this life, never to be conceived. Her husband, her haven of love, and a happy home were gone.
And Raymond… in a quiet place. With the embrace of ghosts he could not feel, and in a shelter of no one's care. Thinking. Contemplating. Hardening his heart. And once he was finished, she could barely recognize this vengeful, cruel man.
Why?
Why would God want this? How could He look in the face of so much pain and decide that it was the best possible outcome? Was this punishment? For who? For her? For Mom? For Dad? For Raymond?
She pleaded. She desperately pleaded. Please… be merciful! He was the author! He could change how this story would go! The future has not yet been published as the past was, they must be rough drafts at best! They have to be, for the sake of her sanity!
It was no use; He didn't answer. He never showed His face, nor spoke His voice. He just showed.
'It's okay, Reynalda.' She felt the comforting hand of her mother on her shoulder when she collapsed on her knees, of doom and gloom raining down on her. She turned her head, capturing all the details of Mom's face. She was beautified; that illness was banished from her and no deterioration was allowed to scar her, lest it dared defy the edict of the author.
'It's going to be okay, Reynalda.' She repeated. 'You need to trust.'
Trust who? God, who just showed her all the pain and suffering He was going to inflict? Or Mom, who was okay with all the pain and suffering that was planned for Raymond? How could she be even okay with this?
'I know what He's going to do, Reynalda…' Mom said. 'I know it all. All I'm asking is your trust, just like I trust Him.'
Reynalda broke down, clinging—like she was a child again—to her embrace for that safety Mom always provided. She dried her tears on her mother's white cloth as she wrapped it around herself for shelter. She missed her. 'Okay Mom… okay…'
And it was then they decided together on what they wanted to say to Raymond, as they were put back into that dining room with not a second lost.
"Reynalda? Reynalda!" The intern Rhoads called out to her.
"Huh?" Reynalda's mind was brought back into her hospital bed.
"Did you hear what I just said?"
"Yes," She lied. "But I'm feeling kind of off right now; can you all come back later?"
"Alright," The doctor agreed. "We'll check up on you in an hour to see if everything's still going fine. You have a good rest now."
"Thank you, Doctor." She closed her eyes as soon as they left, praying to God again that He would consider her pleas.
"Novak! I can't believe it!" Dylan practically jumped on him, jumping childishly up and down. It almost felt like Dylan wanted a piggy-back ride. Except on the front. In the presence of all these people. And Dylan wouldn't care at all until that excitement wore off and he'd realize what a complete fool he'd make himself to be. "You beat that son of a bitch! I'm so proud of you!"
"Thanks to you, Trudeau." Raymond interceded, offering up a fistbump instead. Not that he actually thought Dylan was going to do it, just that he wanted to kill any chance, no matter how small. He was not a touchy-feely guy, nor ever going to be.
"No comrade, thanks to us!" Dylan then proceeded to sing the anthem of Soviet Russia. Well, he attempted to. Raymond didn't know a single Russian word and he knew Dylan was botching it up brutally. "With my cards and your heart, we have triumphed against our greatest foe!"
"You mean your greatest foe?" Raymond gleefully reminded Dylan how much composure he had lost to Travis because of that inferiority complex.
"Hush now! Or you'll force my hand to send you to the gulags!"
Raymond laughed. "Okay, Trudeau."
"I'm not going to lie, you looked awesome up there." Dylan leaned in close, with an innocuous grin and rubbing his fingers together like he was spreading spice everywhere. Summing it up, he acted like a pimp pitching his start-up business. "Like you were going to single-handedly destroy your opponent with a trap card, steal his girl, topple down capitalism, and seize the means of production all in one move."
"Yes, all that's missing is my useful idjits who I can have face the wall when I finally get into power, eh?"
"And a fascist dictator who you can sign a pact with, only to have him stab you in the back and invade into the motherland! But you go scorched earth on his ass so that he can't feed his troops and fail like some frenchman a hundred and a half years earlier!" Dylan spoke incredibly fast and messaged his non-existent beard on his chin. "Which, luckily for you, I'm an eighth German."
Folding his arms, Raymond scanned Dylan up and down. He made sure he was doing it as blatantly as possible. "Funny, since out of the two of us, I'm the one with blonde hair and blue eyes. You make Germany sad."
Dylan broke into laughter and Raymond followed up.
"Anyway, it's my turn to duel the semi-finals." Dylan waved farewell before he began jogging away to his duel.
"Say 'Sieg Heil' for me when you declare an attack with Cyber Dragon Sieger!" Raymond called out, not minding the stunned looks of the people around him.
"No…" Even Dylan was a bit stunned. "That's too spicy, even for me, Novak! Wish me luck!"
Raymond did not wish him luck. Because it'd be easier to crush someone he had absolutely no connections to than to crush his new-found friend, who was kind of growing on him. If Dylan lost in the semi-finals, then it'd be great, despite how guilty he felt about thinking that way. It'd be harder to maintain a friendship if they had a strife between them, that one of them won the three million dollars and was set for life, while the other one won a lousy trip to some islands that lasted for an insignificant amount of time. Technically, that would inevitably happen anyway, but it wouldn't be by either of their hands that caused it.
So please God, pick someone else other than the two of them to pull the trigger.
So, Reynalda's dream. By this point, I hope you've put the pieces together. I'm giving you readers the choice on how this story would end. You can either choose to let Raymond win the tournament and live that happy ending Reynalda dreamt about. Or you can let Raymond lose the tournament and fulfill the gloomy ending which she dreads.
If Raymond wins, the story ends right here. There will be no sequel, and the human race would be extinct in fifty years. If Raymond loses, then there will be a sequel, and the human race might possibly be saved. I cannot spoil how losing a tournament could led to the salvation of all people, but I do have an idea where I am going with it.
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Thank you.
3/7/2020