Chapter 4

14th Day of Tinis, Early Morning
Mountain Camp
Twin Rivers Province
–

Joey groaned and tried to turn his head from the left to the right. In so doing, he realized he was not lying face-up, but rather face-down, and the movement caused his cheek and nose to scrape very uncomfortably against the ground.

His brow stitched. The ground? He blinked his eyes open.

He hadn't been imagining it. He was, indeed, lying face-down on a hard, rocky, barren surface – and it was cold.

He gasped, but that only made him take in a deep breath of rock dust along with the cold, crisp air of the region. He pushed himself up as he began to cough loudly; one hand clutched at his throat, and it would have been demonstrative if there'd been anyone watching. But even as he ground his throat to spit out the dust, he noted that there was no one else here.

Joey squinted. The area was almost completely barren. Only a few patches of grass here and there lent any color to this place. The rest was gray, dusty ground that looked as though it hadn't been trod by anyone with half a brain. He snorted. Perfect. Somebody drags me somewhere nobody smart would go. People are always out to insult me.

He reached up and scratched his head. Man, what happened, anyway? One moment we were all plugged into that machine. Then it said something weird about "lockdown mode" or something...

The sun was just barely beginning to rise above the horizon – and he only now realized just how far down the horizon was. He'd been lying prostrate next to a cliff's edge. "Gaah!" he shouted, and he scrambled away from it as quickly as possible, keeping his eyes very firmly on his own movements and not at all (or not that much) on the edge.

Wait a sec... what the hell am I wearing? Of the many things he knew he was likely to forget, he was quite certain his wardrobe wasn't one of them – and though his winnings at Duelist Kingdom had made him a millionaire by most standards of currency in the world, he'd never bought a black leather jacket. And he was very sure he'd not donned his red shirt or black jeans for the occasion of traveling to Spectre.

He blinked as it struck him why he might be dressed this way. Oh, man. Deja vu. "I'm in the game, aren't I?" he asked aloud. The words echoed down the mountain a distance. Odd that it would change my clothes. Not that I'm complaining or anything, they look good enough, and they're warm, but still...

Then he looked at his hands and frowned again. They were bound in a pair of leather gloves, and the gloves had apparently been fused with some sort of metal bangles at the wrist. In the case of the one on the left, the bangle extended halfway up his arm in three distinct ringed segments, but on the right, there was but a single segment. Inside each section was a square-shaped depression that sank down perhaps a centimeter.

He tried to remember more about the transition into the game. Okay, so it asked me what I wanted to be. I said... architect/adventurer. Yeah. That sounded cool to me. He glanced about; there were no structures in sight. Guess I haven't been building anything up here. So much for the architect bit. He stroked his chin. I suppose I should probably get down from here.

Wish I knew where Yuugi and the others were...

–
14th Day of Tinis, Early Morning
Claw Valley
Uruvie Canyon
–

Tristan had awoken near a river. The water was by no means rushing or gushing, but it had made him want to find a bathroom rather quickly right off the bat. For an indeterminate amount of time he stumbled about in confusion trying to find some sign of civilization, and therefore a toilet, before realizing two things.

First – that he'd been transported into a video game, just as they'd all expected they would be.

Second – in a place like this, he wasn't likely to find a bathroom.

He'd ended up relieving himself discreetly in the river. That was when he finally discovered that his clothes were different, which had only added to the frustration of delaying himself permission to go. Then he wondered if that would end up having much less desirable consequences back in the real world. What if I ended up wetting myself in the pod?

And there was very little anybody could do about that now, he imagined. He remembered quite clearly the message about being in lockdown. Probably means we're stuck in the game for the time being. Deja vu all over again. But at least it's supposed to be a game and not a fight for survival.

Scouting about had revealed there were two local population centers. One was to the east, across the river and beyond some woods; the only way he'd been able to make it out at all was by a plume of smoke rising above the treetops. The other was in the opposite direction, closer, and even from this distance – and at this time of day – appeared to have plenty of traffic to and fro.

It took a decent hike to get there. Most of that hike was spent examining the mismatched gauntlets he was wearing. They don't look completely unlike the gloves Yuugi and Joey and all the rest had to wear at Duelist Kingdom... but they're pretty different, all the same. One or two travelers passed by him on horses, but he didn't think to look up at them.

If he had, he might have noticed how hard they were staring at him.

What is it about my occupation that would have me wear something like this? he wondered. I mean, granted, a mercenary might have to wear some pretty odd things, but these would have to have some sort of function to them. Otherwise they're just weird.

He approached the entrance to the city and squinted at the greeting sign.

Claw Valley – There be copper here!

"I guess the gloves aren't the only weird thing around here," he muttered. The entire city appeared to be ringed with some sort of defensive wall. Tristan was reminded of Jericho. Its gates were wide open, and a pair of guards bearing pikes were standing on either side. They, unlike other passersby, did little to indicate they saw anything strange about him, and did not block his entry.

He shrugged and made his way through. Immediately he could tell this was not a technologically advanced society, at least not by his standards. Scaffolds stood everywhere, and workers were chiseling and cobbling and smithing and all other forms of manual labor via methods more associated with previous centuries. A gathering of children was milling about off to the left, trying to toss skipping stones onto each individual tile of pavement. When one child glanced up at Tristan, however, his eyes lit up.

"Look!" he exclaimed to his friends, pointing Tristan out specifically. "It's a marshal!"

–
14th Day of Tinis, Early Morning
Tsughut
Tsughut Province
–

There was a series of insistent knocks on the door, followed by a muffled voice. "Hey, boss? You all right in there?"

Ryou ran his hands through his hair – his strangely gloved hands – and squinted through the window and into the sun that was steadily on its way up the eastern horizon. He was trying to remember what he'd told the game to do for his character. I told it I wanted to be in a city... some city on the northwestern island... Tsughut?

The voice behind the door shouted a little louder. "Hey, boss!"

He jumped; he hadn't heard the knocking over his contemplation. "Uh... me?" he asked, not quite loud enough for whoever was shouting to hear. Then he hurried over to the door, lifted the latch, and opened it; on the other side was a ruddy-looking man who eyed Ryou up and down.

"Late night, boss?" he asked.

"Er... I suppose," Ryou said. He cursed himself for fumbling. This is a roleplaying game, for crying out loud! Get into character and play along. You've done this hundreds of times, you enjoyed it every time. You said you wanted to be a merchant, and the way this character is acting, he seems to be a subordinate. He straightened a little. "Am I late for work?"

"No way, boss. You decide when you're late, not me. But I thought you might like to know the load we got today. It's a beauty. And might pan out to be the tax margin for this entire month, if Kepulia decides he wants to ease up a little, and if they keep spawning like they do this time of year." The ruddy man gave Ryou an expectant look. "Wanna come see?"

Spawning? Load? Sounds like I'm in the fishing industry... which would explain the smell coming off this guy. He resisted the urge to wrinkle his nose – though whether it would have been at the revelation that he was a fisherman or at the smell, he wasn't quite sure. "Uh, no... thanks. It sounds like good news, then."

The man chuckled. "That doesn't even begin to describe it, boss. I just hope the navy doesn't decide to sweep in and scare 'em all away before we start making big profits. This entire city's got kids to feed an' all."

Ryou cocked his head. "Why would the navy come 'sweeping in'?"

The ruddy man blinked, surprised. "Thought you'd heard. The emperor's been distributing peacekeepers."

Eugh. "Peacekeepers". You never hear that term applied to someone who isn't wielding a weapon and an unspoken threat to use it. He took a stab in the dark. "Why? Is it because of the tax margin?"

"Oh, yeah. Some people started raiding supply convoys in Rondeval because they're too poor to afford supplies with the Imperial tax markup. I don't think they quite get that the markup only keeps going up every time a convoy is raided... they're making life harder on everyone else." The ruddy man sighed in exasperation over the tale, then blinked at Ryou's gauntlets and grinned slightly. "Hey, you don't usually get those out. What's the occasion? Gonna go try and wrangle some new recruits for the operation?"

Ryou blinked. "I beg your pardon?"

That was when the voice echoed in his mind... and he could not suppress a shudder.

"Beg... beg... beg... beg... beg... beg..."

–
14th Day of Tinis, Early Morning
Vrauson Castle
Uruvie Canyon
–

Téa looked oddly at the boy. "I beg your pardon?"

"Well, that's what my friends said, anyway. I wasn't sure an' so I wanted to ask."

She shook her head. "I'm afraid I don't know what you're talking about. I'm not a member of the military. At least, I'm pretty sure I'm not..." I don't remember telling the system I wanted to be in any branch of service – I picked entertainer, didn't I?

The boy, all of ten years old and with a gap between his front teeth, giggled up at her. "That doesn't matter, lady. Marshals aren't all part-uh the army. But all-uh them wear gauntlets like yours. Where'd you get 'em? I want some, too."

For about the fiftieth time, Téa looked at the gauntlets she'd found on her hands when she'd awakened. She shook her head. "Honestly, I really don't remember. I guess it was a long time ago."

"Awww. So you're not a marshal, then?"

Her shoulders shrugged upward in uncertainty. "I'm not sure, really."

The boy giggled again. "That's funny. All the marshals I ever saw knew if they were marshals or not."

She knelt down, bringing herself to eye level with the boy. "Well, maybe you could tell me what makes a marshal, then."

"A mommy and a daddy, of course!" the boy laughed.

Téa pouted at him. "C'mon, help me out here. I'm not really from around this place."

Through a fit of giggling, he nodded. "Okay, hee hee, okay... I know whatcha mean. A marshal's a special person, see? They're born the same as everyone else, but they can order the monsters around."

"You mean, the Duel Monsters?"

"Yeah! Butcha gotta get 'em to answer you first. All-uh the monsters are special 'cause they can hear when a marshal gets born, an' maybe, if you're strong enough, one-uh them will come answer you right when you get born. Then you grow up together, an' if you're strong enough, you can go out an' get more-uh them to come answer you... but you gotta beat 'em first!" The boy nodded. "'Cause they don't respect you 'til you do."

Téa tilted her head to one side. "How do you make them answer you once you beat them?"

The boy pointed at her gauntlets. "Marshals use those. My friends said they saw a marshal fight once an' they say he stuck little rocks in 'em. They said when the monsters got beat, one of 'em gave him another little rock just like the others. I keep lookin' for rocks like 'em but I can't ever find any..."

"Little rocks"? Téa was baffled. How would little rocks make a Duel Monster listen to me? And where would I even find them?

Okay, calm down. She took a deep breath, then smiled at the boy. "Thanks. I'll try to remember all that."

"So you're not a marshal, then?" the boy asked, sounding a little disappointed.

She shook her head. "I don't know... but when I find out, you'll be the first to know."

–
August 10, 9:40 a.m.
SIC Laboratories – Tokyo Branch
Tokyo, Japan
–

Seto did his best not to roll his eyes or heave a sigh as Kemo guided them about the research labs. He'd found the reception to be somewhat lacking. One person? One bumbling lackey from Pegasus Crawford's old team? They should have really tried to roll out the red carpet a little more. What's it take to get a little respect around here? Do I have to be Bill Gates? He also found the facility to be rather lackluster. I could think up more innovative technologies sitting on top of Mt. Everest without oxygen. I worry that this is the best they can offer. And I'm downright insulted if it isn't.

Mokuba, on the other hand, was positively thrilled to be touring about the place. He was asking questions galore. Kemo only offered cryptic responses for about half the questions posed, but it was clear he took more of a shine to Mokuba's attitude than Seto's. That only made Seto even more irritated. Warming up to my little brother, are you? He probably hasn't forgotten you kidnapping him and throwing him in a dungeon. I know I certainly haven't.

Strictly speaking, of course, Seto wasn't witness to any of that – but he had no problem imagining it. And every time if went through his mind, it only made him want to get this overwith all the faster. He forced himself to tune back in to what Kemo was saying.

"...and I know I speak for everyone here when I say we're all overjoyed that you accepted Mr. Irvine's invitation," the former Duelist Kingdom security chief declared. "We've been looking forward to this for a long time."

Seto snorted. "I didn't figure you for the corporate type. What's the matter, roughing people up started turning you off all of a sudden? Or did you just find yourself out of a job when the board vanished?" He knew the answer to the latter half of that question already, of course; the Big Five had hired Kemo as muscle, but upon their disappearance, his contract with them was immediately terminated.

"My interests have changed since then," was Kemo's smooth reply. "But if I'd realized you cared so much, I might have let you know about my résume update sooner."

Seto harrumphed. He'd hoped for the jab to rattle Kemo; its failure encouraged him to change the subject. "Where's Irvine, anyway? I expected him to be here, seeing as he was the one who invited us to this little... get-together."

"His flight was unavoidably delayed, thanks to new security measures put in place by the United States. He sends his regrets, but he will be here in time to meet you at the conclusion of your test run."

Seto scoffed again. A good CEO would have prepared for that. If he can't be here to greet the people he's inviting, why should the people he's inviting be here, either?

Kemo tapped in a code on a keypad, which caused a pair of hydraulically-powered doors to open wide. "SIC is looking forward to collaborating with companies such as Industrial Illusions and Kaiba Corporation on future game technology development. Of course, we realize such progress can only be made at your discretion, but we're quite certain you'll enjoy Kingdom."

"Cut to the chase, here," Seto said. "I've been keeping my eye on Spectre. You people need investment capital because otherwise, units of your product would be so expensive, the average buyer couldn't possibly afford it. You're using Duel Monsters in the program because you needed a product tie-in with Industrial Illusions, so you have a lot of capital already, but not enough. And you figured you could squeeze KaibaCorp because I've already invested so much in the game of Duel Monsters."

Kemo didn't respond, except to cross his arms.

Seto scoffed. "Your silence speaks volumes. Let's see it, at least... then I'll decide whether we'll test it out."

"You're looking at it right now." Kemo gestured about; they had entered the cylindrical laboratory into which Yuugi and his friends had been led less than half an hour ago. Out of thirty-two pods ringing the lab, eight were occupied – and Kaiba was quick to note that Yuugi was one of the occupants. "The program just began for the people you see here now, so if you choose to enter it as well, chances are you'll encounter at least some of them along the line."

"Networking with these guys?" Mokuba sniffed, then looked up at Seto. "What do you think, big brother?"

Kaiba was feeling strangely contemplative. I knew Yuugi was invited, and that he was probably bringing his friends. Didn't realize we'd all end up being invited to play the same game at the same time. In spite of himself, possibilities were starting to form in his head. I've done my best to put the duel at Battle City behind me. Yuugi beat me, and it made me take a look at myself. He was right. I wasn't the man I could have been... wasn't the duelist I could have been, if I'd just looked beyond myself. I've gone over it all a hundred times... and even though I might never admit it to anyone else... I did let my anger and greed blind me.

I'm different now.

And I deserve to show him what I'm made of.

He glanced at Kemo. "If we do this... what actions do I have to take that will eventually cross my path with Yuugi's?"

Kemo shook his head. "It's not that simple, Kaiba-san. If you truly want your path to cross Yuugi's, you're going to have to seek him out."

"The decision-making process in this game isn't geometric?"

"The game is interactive at every point. The decision-making process is exponential and therefore allows for virtually every possibility you can conceive... a game I believe you would appreciate for that quality."

Seto closed his eyes before rolling them. It was no secret that certain contestants at Battle City had believed they'd been chosen by fate to win – and it was even less of a secret that he was not one of them. He believed, then as now, that one made one's own future.

"'Niisama?"

Seto looked down at Mokuba, who was giving him an expectant look. "We've come all this way. And you did promise."

Seto's gaze flicked back up at Kemo. "You're right, at that – I did promise. And I certainly don't break my promises." He glanced about the room once more, then said, "Plug us in. We'll play."

–
August 10, 10:01 a.m.
SIC Private Aircraft 1993
Pacific Ocean - In Transit
–

Another smile.

"Good morning, gentlemen. Welcome to my game."