Chapter 13: Blindsided

"You passed out?" Cary repeated. "Are you sure you're okay?"

In truth, Matt wasn't sure how "okay" he'd be. His head was throbbing and ached worse than all the concussions he got as a kid combined. That was what made the expanse of tundra surrounding him feel so comforting. He could feel the cold bite down on his fingers and ears and knew the rest of his body would regret it later, but hanging out in the snow long enough to hear what Cary had to say was a good excuse to reduce the swelling in his head.

"I've got two stories for you," Cary spoke into the receiver. "I'm pretty sure you'll want to take notes."

Thinking on how horrific it would be to expose his bare fingers to the tundra, Matt suggested, "I'll take a chance. Make the stories quick, if possible. Ahura has been asleep for a while so I'm not as warm as I used to be."

"Well, the first one is about a boy named Ren Byrne. He was born one of six children, his mother an elementary school teacher and his father an architect. Without a plethora of material things in his life, he developed an appreciation for creativity and the arts. He had a knack for it, too. Reportedly, he's the first kid ever to win a regional duel tournament using exactly a starter deck. But he didn't follow the duel career. Instead, he was fascinated by acting.

"He received a full scholarship to an arts program, which prompted him to leave school and pursue a career in theater. He found work in several stage performances and had a few less-than-optimal roles on the silver screen. Six years later, he hit his stride and began appearing in hit after hit. Granted, he was typecast for a long time and he was more of a character actor than a star, but still, he was bringing in good, steady money. He attributes his success to changing his stage name from Byrne to Bacon. 'Everyone loves bacon,' he claimed. 'Maybe that name will put people in the seats' and so forth.

"The boy, grown up now, is married with two kids and a very successful career behind him."

Matt understood Cary was just beginning the buildup to the story, but it was frustrating to sit through all that in the snow. "That's a wonderful story. I think I know exactly how to beat Obelisk now."

"Don't be snarky or I won't give you Part II."

"Sorry."

She was unconcerned with his attitude, though. It hadn't changed that much since she first met him. "The second story is about a young man named John Byrne, who attended engineering school and founded Byrne Industries. The company made him a millionaire by age 30 and a billionaire by age 40. He soon forged a business alliance with Theodore Lloyd, the president of a conglomeration of various wealthy organizations. Outwardly, the whole bunch of them looks like any political action committee set to elect some corporate shill to public office. Lots of conspiracy theories encompass the group, though, especially since the incident.

"Theodore Lloyd had the bad luck of being at a political party when terrorists broke in and took everyone hostage. Eventually, the terrorists felt desperate and killed several of the hostages—numbering among them was Theodore Lloyd and most of the other bigwigs in his allied organization. John Byrne quickly moved in and took control of that organization, filling all the key positions with his own friends.

"Pretty weird, huh?"

Matt paused as he mulled it all over for a moment. "Knowing you, you're pretty sure Ren Byrne and John Byrne are the same guy—Ren Bacon, who currently holds Obelisk."

"Yep."

"So he got the money to start Byrne Industries from his acting career?"

"Most likely."

"Why do you think Ren had anything to do with the terrorists who killed Theodore Lloyd?"

Cary huffed loudly enough to be heard on the phone. "Who says I think that?"

"Your smug tone of voice does."

Matt couldn't see it, but he could almost hear her responding grin as she exhaled near the phone. Explaining her suspicion, she said, "Aside from aspirations of commanding a multinational organization, you mean? Byrne's fiancée, a lawyer whom he met during a contracting meeting, apparently filed an injunction to keep Lloyd's company separate from Byrne's. She died during a visit to one of the facilities within Lloyd's alliance when a malfunction in the equipment caused an explosion. The explosion also wounded Lloyd, which is why the investigation never pointed to him. Yet somehow, despite the length of his hospital stay, he ultimately walked away without a single lasting effect."

"Suspicious, but not conclusive."

"Good enough for Byrne, I think. I wouldn't be surprised if those terrorists were just hired guns intent on killing Lloyd and his associates because of their involvement in the accident. Does that sound like the kind of thing Mr. Ren Bacon would do?"

Though he hadn't witnessed it directly, Matt heard from Bryan that Ren had taken everyone hostage in hopes of taking the god cards by force and fear. "Is he the type to organize a hostage situation out of revenge? I suppose anything has happened already."

"It did?" Cary sounded ready to panic. "What happened?"

Not wanting to talk about something he wasn't there to see, Matt asked her, "Didn't you find out anything about Zeke?"

"He's a straight-A student at Yale with no criminal record. Nothing special. Go back to the part where Ren Bacon may have already taken you guys hostage."

"I don't know the details. I was passed out. Bryan told me everything." Feeling the chill, he started pacing, but as soon as he took a single step out of place, Cary's voice broke up and the call disconnected. Matt looked straight up into the shrouded sky and wondered. "It really is just this one spot."

Bryan leaned against the wooden window frame, shivering in response to the cold seeping through the cracks into the Brantley Motel. Only a week earlier, he had been warm as he soaked in the hot springs with his beautiful fiancée. Amazing how things could change in just a short time. He surveyed the limited sights visible from his second-floor window. The snow had reached a caesura and reflected the sunlight well. Even if he closed the curtains, the room would be brightly lit. Apparently Mr. Brantley was too cheap to spring for blackout curtains in the guest room. And the lunch he prepared left Bryan convinced he would be satisfied if he weighed a hundred pounds less.

He couldn't believe that he held now both Uria, Lord of Searing Flame and Hamon, Lord of Striking Thunder. These two cards hadn't been in the same place since they attempted to draw all of Duel Academy into the Shadow Realm. If he somehow were pitted against Ren Bacon next, he would join Raviel, Lord of Phantasms and hold all three Sacred Beasts.

Constant memories flashed through his mind, all of Garry's hideous reaction to being struck down by his own god card. Garry had been no threat to Ren, yet he suffered greatly because of Ren's insecurity and cowardice. Deep inside, he felt tremendous hatred. Each moment he spent thinking about Ren trying to kill Garry caused the Sacred Beasts to react.

"Take your mind off of it," he told himself. Sleep would be difficult since he could barely close his eyes without seeing Garry hit the ground, but it was the best way to calm his nerves. He would be no good in the next round of duels if he was furious and groggy. Cold as it was without use, the bed was like a block of ice. Maybe better than nothing, but cold nonetheless. It was warmer the last time when he and Matt shared the bed, but Matt was out trying to call his girlfriend Rory. Bryan might have followed suit and called Lucy if he didn't have to stand outside to get any service. Lucy knew he'd come back to her. He was better off inside where he could actually survive.

"I've got a better idea," he decided. "Matt will be back soon, and this should be worth a laugh." Imitating a slumbering form, he arranged pillows beneath the heavy duvet cover filled with down. Feeling like he wasn't missing much by ignoring the bed, Bryan slithered underneath, bringing with him a separate pillow and blanket. The bed was high enough to give him an extra inch of clearance as he lay on his back with the blanket wrapping him like a sleeping bag.

Bryan lay there staring at the underside of the bed for a while, thinking on how much fun it would be to hop out and scare Matt when he came to the room. Or maybe he should pop the bed up off the floor instead. Which would frighten his best friend more? But as he stared at the bed, he continued to see Garry's face, contorted by the Shadow Realm. He took a few deep breaths, promising himself that he would get revenge and rescue Garry.

His thoughts turned to Duel Academy. How was Lucy holding up? What was she doing right then? Had she gotten used to sleeping alone again? Her smile was intoxicating. He couldn't wait to be back in her arms. She had been beautiful ever since he first met her. It was actually kind of awkward that Matt pursued her first. Maybe he had a better eye for women considering he knew right away how special she was.

Thinking about Lucy and how great it would be to hold her again, the blanket suddenly felt inviting. He yawned, and he experimented with resting his eyes. Just briefly, of course. He had to be alert when Matt came in so he could spring his trap. But it had been a day full of death and terror. Sleep quickly overtook him.

He awoke with a start, certain he heard a noise. For a moment, he was disoriented and had to remind himself where he was and why. Maybe it was time to spring his trap! But something was off. Matt wore heavy, steel-toed boots, but these were soft-soled snow shoes on approach. Through the skirt of the bed, he caught the silhouette of a person sneaking toward the bed. From the build, it appeared to be a man. He made no sound as he approached the bed. How had he even gotten in?

The intruder passed out of view as he approached the head of the bed. Trying to breathe soundlessly, Bryan slipped to the edge of the bed, aware of the awkward position he was in as he hid. He thought back to high school football and remembered Assistant Coach Matthews, who hobbled around the field as he moved slowly—the result of a tear in his Achilles tendon during his own football days. Maybe that was the way to subdue this intruder.

Bryan heard the covers thrown back followed by a sharp gasp of shock. His angle under the bed prevented a perfect strike, but Bryan swung out his arm and struck the back of his intruder's leg with a knife-hand blow.

The figure sprang away on his good leg, but then he fell to the floor, clutching the injury and loosing an agonized growl. Hoping to catch the intruder and pin him down, Bryan shoved the bed, only then realizing how heavy the oak frame was. His effort lifted the bed only slightly before it crashed back down on him. He immediately worried that the intruder would take advantage of his temporary immobilization to strike, but in actuality, the crash startled the intruder and sent him leaping through the window. Bryan had plenty of time to sidle safely from under the bed but he never saw the face of the figure who attempted to strike in his sleep.

Hugging himself to steady his nerves, Bryan realized how lucky he had been in life so far. People were willing to kill for the god cards. It was just a card game, but people were willing to kill for these cards. Bryan accepted one in his freshman year knowing full-well that he would hand it to someone else when he graduated, but other people were willing to kill for these cards.

If that weren't bad enough, the cards themselves were willing to kill. Direct conduits into the legendary Shadow Realm, they fed on the souls of duel losers. And the cards scared Bryan even more than the homicidal duelists. But even if returning to the hell that is the Shadow Realm scared him to death, at least people could be rescued from the Shadows. He was lucky not to have been stabbed or shot that day.

Matt was outside by himself. With any luck, that would keep him safe.

The cell phone signal in Yasna was getting harder to hold onto. Maybe there was a storm brewing overhead. Matt surveyed the sky and saw nothing but a thin and brightly lit layer of clouds like someone had draped a single sheet in front of the sun. It seemed peaceful enough, but his meteorology class fell short of teaching him to be a human Doppler radar. No matter what the forecast, something stopped him from being able to hear Rory's voice on the phone. He had to settle for seeing her words in text messages.

As he sent texts describing his miserable situation—vaguely so as not to worry her too much—and how much he missed her, he finally paid heed to his surroundings. It had been more difficult to understand the monotony of the buildings in town while he was concentrating on what Cary had to say, but texting gave him a few minutes of free time between each message to look around. The airport was a long cabin with a loft on the end to act as a control tower. The houses on either side looked like small barns with only one entrance and a single window on either floor. Every one of them had a brick chimney, too. He counted to see that every chimney spewed black smoke back into the air. It made him jealous to think that everyone else was warmer than he was.

Except for one guy. Someone was bundled up heavily in dark clothes. Matt couldn't see any details about the figure except to say it had long, gray hair that hung low past the brim of the fur hat on the figure's head. The only other obvious detail was the figure was moving pretty quickly, and on a path leading straight through the snow toward Matt.

Out of sheer instinct, Matt braced himself and mentally prepared himself in the event of a scuffle. He was aware of how high the snow rose around his ankles. It would be tough to move well. Back when he was on the football team, he played positions that required speed and agility. For a guy his size, power was never his strongest point. If only there were less snow.

"Hello, Luther," spoke the approaching figure. His Russian accent gave away his identity instantly. Eldar Vanko may have been old, but he was big as a grizzly bear. And he must have smelled Matt's fear. He pressed his thin lips together and smiled. "I come with proposal. No aggression."

For some reason, Matt trusted Eldar's gentle approach. "A proposal? Like what?"

"I see you and friends duel and see kids strong enough to change world. Is like children's stories about King of Games. You do not know much of me, but can trust me. With your help, I can fix Aurora Borealis."

"Fix it?" Matt repeated. "What's wrong with it?"

Eldar cleared his throat. "Listen to story of Sanjan."

"Sanjan?" As far as he knew, Matt had never heard that name before, yet it felt so familiar. He even caught a mental glimpse of a man wearing heavy silks and gold jewelry, with long and full facial hair to protect his face from the cold. "He's the one who built the citadel."

"Yes. Sanjan followed the lights because he thought he would find God living in snow. When he found no God, he spent money researching. If lights are not God's campfire, maybe they are window to God's world. He wrote in his journals the land and sea end with gigantic abyss with narrow and dangerous pathway leading to the heavens. The sky is a dome covering the Earth as separation from above. One little hole in it lets spirits pass to the true heavens. Only the spirits who died a voluntary or violent death have gone through the hole. Spirits who crossed through and live there light torches to guide the feet of new arrivals. This is the light of the aurora."

Eldar shook his head vigorously. "We know more now. Aurora is not light provided by living spirits of dead men but by charged particles in the upper atmosphere. But this place did connect Sanjan to true heaven. His writing is difficult to translate because he may have gone mad, but he says he left his body and met a man whose body looked like an eagle."

Matt's ears perked up.

"The man told Sanjan what would happen to earth. Three-dimensional space, the Shadow Realm, and the Overworld would soon collide. Such an eruption would resonate throughout Creation and end everything. God asked Sanjan to seek a way to prevent the World Collision."

"A collision of all Creation," Matt repeated. He sounded sad, but not devastated as one might expect. "Wouldn't the Creator have safeguards in place to protect this Overworld where he lives?"

Very quickly, Matt turned and continued his own conversation as if he already knew the answer. "Not so simply. There is a safeguard: people born within three-dimensional space who possess the body of the Uncreated. But if their power activates, three-dimensional space will still suffer annihilation and the event will only protect the Overworld."

Again, Matt responded to himself. "That makes it seem like the fate of reality depends on the Shadow Realm. People have always feared its power and tried to control it. Isn't the Shadow Realm the true place where the souls of the departed go? If so, it likely cannot exist without three-dimensional space. It follows, then, that the Shadow Realm would seek to destroy the bodies of God and disperse humanity's consciousness."

Eldar watched Matt curiously. He was certainly the most intriguing young man the Russian had ever met. "You know a lot for an outsider."

As if Matt just remembered Eldar was there, he asked, "What did Sanjan do when his vision ended? It makes sense that if Ahura Mazda—God—failed to stabilize the universe and lacked the appropriate safeguards, then the best strategy would be to prevent the collapse from ever happening. How was he going to prevent it?"

"To start, Sanjan declared his intention to leave. Some of his people would not accept until they crossed through aurora and became gods, but Sanjan could not convince them otherwise. The citadel was ransacked and a short war raged. Escaping with his close advisors, Sanjan shared his vision of the world's end and built foundation for an organization that would use all knowledge and technology of earth to avert collapse. The organization still exists, but it is considered to be fable."

"The Hellfire Club," Matt noted.

Eldar gasped. "Again, you surprise me, boy duelist." Hesitantly, he admitted, "I am a member of that organization."

"I already assumed that."

"Then you know Ren Bacon is the same. His title is King of Spades."

"Which automatically means the Joker is also a member of the group. Given the joker is usually a wildcard, I'd guess he's the highest rank of all of you."

"He is. But he and Bacon had an alliance. I believe both ignore edict to avoid the World Collapse. Bacon and Joker believe the event will be caused by the Shadow Realm itself, and they seek to control it for themselves. You are strong. Please help me stop them." He bowed his head so far Matt could have knocked him out if he wanted to. It was a sign that Eldar had no intention to betray him.

Pressing his fingers to his head, Matt said, "I have to figure a few things out. But given my history at Duel Academy, it's a pretty safe bet that I have no interest in watching anyone gain control of the Shadow Realm."

This one's not a long chapter, but it's a heavy one. If the whole thing didn't make sense, don't worry; that was intentional. Matt's still a little confused thanks to Ahura's amnesia. The next chapter will finally be Rory's reappearance in the story along with a few other Duel Academy students. It will be a rewrite, and so it will be largely familiar with a bit of new information input to continue the understanding the impending World Collision. I promise to spell it all out by the time the story ends.

I forgot to do this last week, but I do want to thank tiramisu19, Titanic X, and hanekuriboh123 for helping me proofread a lot of my duels. (tiramisu19 has gone so far as to write a couple of them.) My work would be more emotionally stressful without their help. I've made many gameplay mistakes since the beginning of this story. Helpful readers like them reduce the number of mistakes I've made since then.