The magnificent walls reflected back the evening sunlight. Golden leaflets swirled around the brown stripes, the crimson paint behind it easily absorbing whatever stray light had come its way. Red carpet reached out toward the walls, easily claiming the designs plastered all over the room. Connecting the appearance was a low hanging chandelier, the dimly lit crystals arrogantly clinging to tiny, silver chains from the lights. And yet, just beyond that, were four large, rectangular windows. Dark golden curtains were settled on either side of the glass, the black metal bars on the outside marring the city light's beauty. Shadows grew longer and longer, their lines becoming less pronounced, as gradually, the night dominated the sky.

Sayer stood in that office, his hands neatly placed behind his back, his eyes flickering towards the two men who brought him here. He was wearing a simple, black sweater, with dark brown dress pants to go with it, and a white tie loosely hanging from his throat. He shifted his weight anxiously from one leg to the next, as he contemplated on his sudden freedom, along with the treatment he received ever since he came out.

It was a strange situation, really. Just seconds after Sayer came out of the prison, there was a limousine parked right outside for him, a sleek one, with a driver who knew Sayer by name. The man said Ms. Amrbosine had sent for Sayer, and it was imperative that they leave now so that they could reach the hotel. Although the psychic had his doubts, it wasn't like he had much of a choice to begin with. Already people were giving him disgusted looks, and because he had no deck to fight back with, he couldn't defend himself even from the most simplest of creatures. With no place to go, and practically no assets left to his name, the only option he had was to accept her offer. On a more positive note, considering she'd already freed him, and was now sending someone to pick him up, he really must've been valuable.

Either that, or she was just luring him in, just as he did to so many politicians.

However, nevertheless he was a bit surprised at her preparation. He got to stay in a five-starred hotel, where, as it turns out, everyone existed only to serve him. Suddenly, he was important, a person who could easily get rid of anyone he wished, remove any blemish from his mind; he possessed a kind of power he could only dream of, even when he was still leader of the Arcadia Movement. People kept calling him "sir", and if there was even the tiniest of mistakes, the employees got down on their knees, and literally begged for his forgiveness. All the while, someone else from the cleaning staff came to fix whatever the mess was; if the unfortunate culprit was anywhere nearby, they'd drag the poor sap off, something Sayer easily grew tired of.

Still, he knew this kind of lifestyle came with an incredibly heavy price tag. Even if someone was paying for him now, he knew that eventually, he'd have to pay them back, somehow, someway.

That was how society worked, after all.

He trained his eyes to the large desk in front of him, with the large, empty, black chair sitting just behind, awaiting its master to arrive. He stared at it for a while, before shoving his hands in his pockets, and turning his gaze elsewhere. Well, whoever Ms. Amrbosine was, she was wealthy. And from the way people treated him, just for being associated with her, it was clear she had power too. Power and influence.

The Arcadia Movement flashed his mind.

"Sayer."

Any ambition he had from that moment vanished. He stiffened automatically, as those familiar heels slowly came forth, the sound resonating from his ears. From the corner of his eyes, he saw her own hazy shadow making its way toward her desk. Before long, she sat down in front of him, with those same, cruel eyes staring him down. She was wearing the same dress she had from when they first met, and other than the barely recognizable show of respect she had in her expression, nothing had changed. He closed his eyes, and bowed. "Ms. Amrbosine."

"I trust you're doing well?"

"Yes, thanks to you. I hadn't expected you to be that accommodating."

"I told you before that you were in good hands," she replied tactfully, as she settled back in her chair. "That your worries will disappear, as long as you answered a simple question."

His eyes narrowed slightly, though he remained as he was. "You also said you were with the Public Security Bureau."

"If you're trying to get information from me, you're wasting your time. I've absolutely no idea who asked me to free you."

He looked up then, the shock just beginning to course through his system. "But it is someone from that sector, correct?"

She shrugged.

Sayer regarded her warily. Someone from the defense branch had asked this woman to free him. She asked him to identify Yusei, but other than that, there was nothing else he could go off of. What was this person's game anyways? What were they trying to accomplish? Was it someone he knew? Was it someone from the Arcadia Movement, who'd actually came out on top and was trying to repay Sayer?

No, that couldn't be. According to the news reports, the Arcadia Movement didn't have any members left, and financial assistance had gotten so low the organization was practically nonexistent. At best, it was at the mercy of other politicians who had just as much a right to it as Sayer did. And ever since Goodwin disappeared, the officials Sayer blackmailed were all swept out of office, replaced by unblemished goody-toe shoes with absolutely nothing to do with their free time.

Still, Ms. Amrbosine continued on, as if the exchange had never even happened. She opened a drawer just to her left, and pulled out that very same, white folder he'd seen the other day. Carefully, she placed the documents on the surface, and looked up at him, the same photograph dangling from her fingertips. "You're saying this person right here, is Yusei Fudo?"

"Yes."

"Are you sure?"

"I am," he stated. "I saw him at the Fortune Cup. If you ask any of the duelists who participated in the tournament, and even Lazar himself, I'm sure they'd give you the same answer."

She scrutinized him for a while, an unreadable expression grazing her features. Finally, she smirked, and set the photograph down. Quietly, she began thumbing through the papers, searching through document after document, the pace too quick for Sayer to see. He stole a quick glance at the men around her, before coming back to her. Immediately, he added, "He isn't in the Movement."

"He is."

"That isn't right," he rectified, knowing full well she had the upper hand. "The Arcadia Movement-"

"-is only for psychic duelists with extraordinary potential," she completed easily, pulling out yet another set of files. "They existed for the sole purpose of taking revenge against everyone who wronged them. In other words, they were your personal soldiers, whom you planned on using to take over the world."

Sayer gritted his teeth. There was no use lying to her; if he tried protecting himself now, he knew he'd lose her confidence. She also had the files in front of her, and it's clear to him that she's done her homework. "That's right," he admitted.

"Can you tell me who your sponsors were?"

"We had a couple," he answered vaguely. "Some officials I had dirt on. I don't remember their names-"

"Of course you don't," she dismissed. "I don't expect you to."

"Then what're you asking for?"

"Just curious," she replied. "A powerful thing, you know, curiosity. It's what led civilizations time and time again, within this strange, twisted world. And it's the very thing that drives me to this day. You understand, don't you?"

He stared at her for a moment, before nodding, trying to, at the very least, grasp onto what she was saying. "I do."

"Good. Then it's safe for me to say, that I believe it's that same curiosity that led the two of us work together."

He blinked. "Excuse me?"

"You were the leader of the Arcadia Movement," she said calmly, as she leaned back against her seat. "You had dirt on every single politician in the city when Goodwin was still director. And let's not forget, you've got connections to a ah, Mr. Yusei Fudo, was it?"

"Correct. But I still don't see how he has anything to do with the Movement. After all, he's one of the reasons why-"

"-why a certain duelist left. The Black Rose, I take it?"

He fell silent.

"And there it is," Ms. Amrbosine gloated softly, a slow, predatory smile coming onto her face. "The Black Rose, one of your top duelists, was also a young girl, by the name of Akiza Izinski. Somehow, you manipulated her into coming into the organization, and took control of her powers, right?"

Sayer narrowed his eyes. "She was in full control-"

"She was but a young child, too naive to see the monster in front of her," she continued, as she stretched out her hand to the empty air. She turned her palm up, as though she were holding a wineglass, one filled with blue and black and every shade in-between. "But then she met a very special someone, and so, she became conflicted. Who did her loyalties lie? With the organization? Or with that someone? A bit cliche, if you ask me."

"What'd you want?" Sayer finally asked.

"To work together."

"Really…"

"But it's true. After all, you're the only lead we've got when it comes to Mr. Fudo. And it seems we can put your powers to use."

Sayer clenched his fists. "How was Yusei Fudo involved?"

She only smiled.

"Ms. Amrbosine-"

"I'd rather not give out that sort of information to strangers."

"You released me from prison, and it was your organization who took care of me these past few days. You also said I was in good hands-"

"Meaning I can also abandon you."

The informal, almost carefree atmosphere around her vanished almost instantaneously. Sayer could feel the cold envelop around his fingers, with a deep, seated pain boiling through in his stomach. He gasped for air, as his vision coated with red, his vision now only a hazy blur. He tried moving, tried lunging forward toward her desk, if only to steady himself, but even that avoided him. He was left standing there, attempting to claw at his own throat, the searing pain now scorching his entire abdomen. All the while, the very same shadows came around her, her own, dark eyes now pitch black. And yet, she still folded her hands in front of her, as she watched him struggle, mentally, emotionally.

"With one little call, I can erase your appeal," she warned darkly. "I can make the public remember what you did to those children. I can give you back to the Security Bureau, and let them deal with you however they will. I can lock you away in a jail cell, and let you rot, until you're nothing but dust. I can make the world hate you, make you a wanted man, make every single criminal syndicate hunt you down for the remainder of your days. I can feed you to your own demons, Sayer; just say the word, and I'll do it. Remember that."

And just like that, the pain was gone.

He clutched his chest helplessly, heaving heavily against the frost-stricken air. He gazed up at her once more, his pride shattered before his very eyes. No, there wasn't any humiliation, nor embarrassment, and not even shame. It was more frightening than that, more memorable, up to a fault. An emotion he hadn't felt in a long time.

Fear.

"I'll make you a deal," Ms. Amrbosine began, as Sayer held himself steady. "If you cooperate with our organization, we'll provide for you. We'll make sure you live well to the rest of your days, and you won't have to worry about anything ever again."

What was he supposed to do?

Did he dare ask?

But it seemed the woman sensed his question, and answered accordingly. "Sometimes, it'd be just simple interview questions, while other times, simple tasks I'm sure you know how to do. I can assure you that it's nothing dangerous; you are our only lead. And we won't go back on our word when we find more. Do I make myself clear, Sayer?"

Mutely, he nodded.

"Good," she said finally. "I expect you to come in tomorrow morning, at seven. We'll continue as we did tonight."

And with that, the two men escorted Sayer out of the office, and back into the hotel. He refused to eat anything.

"I don't get it."

"I don't either," Yusei replied, as he strolled through the streets, passing by the old, rundown buildings as he did. "You don't just throw some random air conditioner at an old man like that."

Akiza sighed tiredly, rubbing her eyes from the fatigue. She stayed up all night to finish up an assignment for physics. Supposedly, she would've been asleep by one, but since Alexis called and asked her about an essay, sleep avoided her. The only thing Akiza could've done all day was try not to doze off, knowing full well that if she had, Mr. Heitmann would get onto her.

And it was through that experience Akiza decided she needed a break. She was just walking through the new Satellite residential area, a pretty neighborhood that was one devoid of crime. It was incredibly quiet, something Akiza desperately needed for the time being. However, about ten minutes ago, she ran into Yusei, who had gotten annoyed with Crow and Jack's constant bickering. He joined her then, and that was how the two came together for that one, peaceful afternoon.

"Yeah, right," she replied, while fighting back a yawn.

She felt Yusei's deep blue eyes examine her for a while, before coming back to the sidewalk. "School work?" he asked.

"I was helping someone," she answered. "Sorry, go on. So…kid throw the air conditioner, and the old guy wants you to fix it…?"

"I…don't know. He keeps saying he'll get rid of the thing eventually… but never mind that. So, physics?"

She shook her head. "English. A friend wanted me to help her out."

"An essay?"

"Right."

"Did you write the whole paper or something?"

Personally, Akiza didn't know. She had to read the SparkNotes version of Dr. Faustus to Alexis for about an hour or two. Afterwards, the girl started spouting philosophical nonsense about the play over the phone, something Akiza couldn't help but find just a tiny bit irritating. It took almost thirty minutes to get Alexis to actually start writing the paper. And every single time Akiza hung up, there'd always be another call from the blonde, asking where each concept should go, what she should do about a paragraph she didn't want to get rid of, whether or not the essay should be double-spaced, anything at all that came to mind. And by the time morning came, when Alexis was finally finished with the stupid thing, Akiza was brain-dead. What was Alexis doing before all this anyways?

"No," was all she said.

Yusei chuckled playfully. "Liar."

"Half of it," she corrected pathetically. "She probably plagiarized the rest from SparkNotes."

"Hey, at least it's over."

"That's the thing though," Akiza huffed. "She's always waiting to the last minute to do something. Then, when it's time to turn the stupid thing in, she's always begging for my help. Either that, or she just asks some random teacher to extend the deadline for her."

"…Does it work?"

"Yes."

Akiza felt his hand come up to her head then, his fingers lightly touching the tip of her crown. A slight blush came upon her face, though she managed to brush it aside, as she savored the affectionate ruffle. Moments like these were precious to her; it made her heart skip a beat, and let her know that someone was there, always there.

That strange boy came to mind then.

"Akiza?"

She blinked, before turning back to Yusei. "Hmm?"

"Didn't you hear me?"

She paused for a moment. After a while, a deep, scarlet flush replaced the light, adorable one she had from before. "S-sorry," she managed. "What'd you-?"

"I said she reminded me of Jack."

Her eyes widened. "O-oh."

He placed his hand back to his side, much to her disappointment. "Well, Jack does try, and he's a hard worker. Just, not in the most convenient of ways."

"Huh. So, how's the engine? Is it, you know, working?"

"I…guess?"

The conversation kept on for sometime, never once bothering to lapse into awkward silence. As they passed the modern homes, Akiza couldn't help but stare at the white picket fences erected for the complexes, at the clean cut lawns that seemed to draw her attention everywhere at once. The houses were all similar in a way, though the design was different; for one thing, they seemed to share the same builders, the same designers, anything at all that was, at the very least, similar. And the way everyone moved in, with their painted on smiles and the like, was a bit eerie. Still, she could see a few moving trucks here and there, the neighbors gathered around to celebrate their newest additions. Apparently, what was creepy for her was normal for everyone else.

Again, the boy appeared before her.

She closed her eyes, and concentrated on Yusei's words then.

As soon as she opened her eyes, he was gone.

She could only smile, as she listened to Yusei recount the odd requests his customers had given him. Yes, she asked him about Jack, who still couldn't hold down a job, as well as Crow, who was doing just fine on his own. And he asked her about school, how Luna and Leo were doing, both of which were holding steady in their classes. He asked her about her friends, if she was getting along with everyone there, and all she told him was a simple, "Yes."

Over and over again, the boy kept coming up in her mind, and each time, she dismissed him. And yet, despite all that, Akiza knew there was something familiar about the boy. A haunting recognition, however vague it may seem, that lingered there, in the back of her mind, waiting for her to remember it.

Yes, she could remember him.

She should remember him

But for some reason, she didn't.