Disclaimer: I do not own nor claim to own this franchise or any of its characters.

Author Note: Due to Divine already getting part a chapter this will be a drabble on why exactly he's flipped his shit. So tonight there will be two updates, Divine's drabble and the hidden character's chapter and perhaps Bruno's chapter. Also that means that we have four chapters left. Also I want you to know that throughout this entire thing the only music I've listened to while writing has been

Meltdown

"Eugene." It whispers at me and I scratch it away. "Eugene. I'm sorry I left, I left and allowed you to become this. You're damned, damned if you don't cease this."

And where does it think it can tell me that? Eh? It can't tell me anything like that. I need to keep moving. I need to leave this city before all hell breaks loose. This thing, this thing is only a distraction, nothing more than an annoying insect.

"You are damned and you can't be helped and for that I am very sorry. Please allow me to put you out of your misery." It whispers again.

"Go away, I've moved on. I have plenty of others that will gladly follow my lead, you, famous as you are, are nothing more than an insolent fool compared them. You are outdated and corrupted and your falling apart you filthy beast." I snap back as I dig my nails into my palms.

"I'm praying for you Eugene." It whimpers.

"Silence your prayers! I don't need the stuff. It's useless. All of it. You might as well throw it out! All your wishes, your dreams, your hopes and especially your god forsaken prayers! It never got either of us anywhere so why are you pretending it's going to bring him back!"

"Bring him back? But Eugene... you are him."

"Don't be absurd! That man, your knight, the knight that jilted me died! Accept it! A battle broke out and I was the victor. Now leave before I have you destroyed!"

I quicken my pace to try and escape the words of the foul beast that trails behind me. Memories stat closing in and I use my mind to try and push them back but they won't go, no their stuck with me for life. My greatest curse.

Memories of a young boy sifting through trash in that transient city they call Neo-Domino. Who could believe some one so poor was living in that shining city? The young boy sifts through it until he pulls out a card with the paper peeling off and the wording faded. A dark card, a light card, a very special card. One that even that boy couldn't believe he drew. An Archlord Kristya. Now I admit that this card doesn't seem that special but what that card meant was special. That card belonged to a very famous man with a very special ability, not unlike that boy, the ability to see the future. And that card told the boy of that famous man's life and the hardships he endured and the horrific things he did and that boy thought 'I want to be like this.'. And so he collected as many cards as he could from all over the the area. Cards of a certain type that many overlooked, Psychic types. They reflected what was in his heart, an artificial, methodical, manipulative sort of evil. One that was based around sacrifice for the benefit of a greater good, and yes it may have been cruel but sometimes change requires a deep cruelty.

And so this boy took his perceived Ace Monster and his seemingly useless deck of unwanteds such as himself and began to duel with a fever that I have not felt nor seen since. He dueled as if his life depended on it because no matter which way you looked at it it did. For this boy was starving on the streets of this Utopia. And one day during a particularly tough duel with a Psychic Deck's worst enemy, someone that was fond of DNA Surgery, the boy unveiled the deadly abilities that removed his parents from the picture. His younger opponent was struck in a frenzy with real pain from the very real lucky find Archlord Kristya. Death was imminent and in the end the boy was the only one left standing with sweat dripping from his forehead and laughter in his mouth. He had just killed someone with a Duel Monster, he had just killed someone. It wasn't even brutal thinking back. It was just another evil, just two more legs that will never move again, another mouth that won't spew hate again, another worthless life erased, just another pointless heart that was crushed because it was too weak. And that boy felt no sympathy for his opponent. If one can not fight back than they're better of dead!

And so this boy climbed up the ranks with his impossibly strong powers. He manipulated and seduced and murdered and drove mad all those that stood in his way until it had been thirteen years and he was standing on the top as he looked below the very top of his brave new world. One that he built for people just like him, his one and only real dream after his deepest prayers had failed to save him and murder was the only solution. Yes, that dream that carried him through starvation and thirst and blood and blood and the stench of death on his hands and fire in the air every single time he dared get close. The dream that people like him, the supposed dregs of society could finally be equal, be respected. And that dream was almost achieved you know, sadly a new player and things impossible for him to account for happened and rendered him unable to continue his dream. That is my story. This is how we got here.

"Eugene, Eugene that's not how the story goes." Archlord Kristya informs me.

"How did you kn- oh yes you claim we have a deep link. Hmn. That is how the story goes you foolish trash can. I think your brain has started to decompose from all those years in that dump I left you in."

"Eugene... the story is the once upon a time there was a boy of fourteen. His name was Eugene Ross and he once had a very happy and loving family but the darkness inside his heart was stronger than the love of others. The young boy lost control of the darkness and his powers and burnt the house down with both of his parents inside. And so he was forced to take to the streets and there months later he found a very old card in a very old trash bin and he used it to climb to the top of those dank and depressing streets of false Utopia. And then he killed someone in an angry frenzy and he laughed and he laughed as his Duel Monsters, his only real friends, were powerless to calm him until he began to regret what he did. He than decided to pursue his dream to help others in his state and make sure they don't hurt anyone. Somewhere along the way though he lost his mind, lost his soul, if he even had one for surely the mark of a psychic is the lack of one as they are all equally damned, and than he cast those pure humans from his land and began to take in more and more damned souls to damn them even further and-"

"Shut up! I have only had good intent! Silence your mouth of talk of damnation!"

A silence fills the area. I continue down my path. It can't break me. It can't break me. I can't feel any pain at all so why, damn it, why do my prayers still ring in my head with his foolish beliefs in my damnation? Why does it still smell like ashes when I'm alone? Maybe if I focus on the task at hand I won't feel it anymore, I won't feel anymore pain, ever again.