Crow sprung away, disbelief clouding his mind. Numbness erupted from his fingertips, with an uncertain ice descending from his spine. Cold sweat dripped from his forehead, as he stared down at the body in front of him, its fragile innocence torn apart by its premature grave.

No way.

There was absolutely no way-

"Hard to believe, isn't it?" Belial whispered, as he closed his eyes mournfully, the silence from his own resignation relayed in a small, simplistic frown. Though Crow didn't feel the man's eyes on him, he still managed to force himself to take a breath, the very instance of hesitation now completely gone from him. Gradually, his fears vanished, as he turned to the man. "No," he stated finally.

"You've been friends for all these years-"

"There's no way!" Crow shouted, his voice resounding through the empty corridors. He fought down a wince, though his tough exterior removed any traces of it. He couldn't bring himself to look at the calcified child, its image was already seared into his memory. He felt sorry for it, no doubt, and it was through that fact he steeled himself from its imaginary pain. To think that this…this sicko managed to get something like this-

"I understand," Belial called, "how hard this must all be."

"Shut up."

"We've got samples-"

"I said SHUT UP!" Crow screeched, causing the man to fall silent. "I don't care what that thing is! It doesn't have anything to do with Yusei! Why don't you just go back to wherever the hell you came from?! Zero Reverse?! Please! I've known Yusei my whole life, and-!"

"Nikolai Izinski."

Crow stopped, his own breath coming to a reluctant halt. "What?" he asked dumbly.

"I'm sure you've heard that name before," Belial said, his eyes dropping down to the file in Crow's hands. His gaze lingered on it for a while, before he looked back up. "No, as a matter of fact I'm sure you know the name. You saw it once, in a box filled with pills, delivered to your doorstep. Right after the mall crisis, I take it?"

"How'd you-?"

"A pair of students, a boy and a girl, who came by, if only to say hello. To Yusei, of course; I doubt they even know I exist." he said, keeping on with his observations. The man leaned against the pillar once again, now laying claim to Crow's attention. "A hostage crisis, where only your friend knew what to do, in the midst of the terror, and the confusion. And a string of murders, all of whom were part of higher society, a society in which, I might add, was filled with corrupt bureaucrats. And now, a strange man comes in, and tells you he knows what happened. Repeating the incidences over and over again, all the while proclaiming everything, every single thing, is linked to a single point, known as the Black Rose coven."

Silence came between the two, like an unpleasant, oversized obstacle.

Jack's flimsy excuses disappeared from the moment the quiet echoed throughout Crow's ears. His past worries, the friendship he shared with Yusei, and even their fights against the Dark Signers; all of it, gone, as Crow turned back toward the stranger's solemn face. His eyes fell to the corpse of the child, who was lying, cold and alone, in some ruined, rusted box. His lips parted, the confusion refusing to leave his brain, though still, he kept hold of his senses. He bit the inside of his cheek, and slowly brought the file to his face.

But even then, he found himself hesitating.

"How?"

Belial blinked. "How what?"

"How do you know all of this? And don't give me that crap about Fallen knowing everything."

He regarded Crow for the longest time. Then, after a few seconds, his orbs fell to the ground, with a nostalgic smile on his face. That emotionless mask came over his expression once again. "There are…people, who are worried about him."

"People?"

He nodded.

"Can't say anymore?"

"No…unfortunately. I can't."

Crow looked up defensively, with one finger in-between the covers. "And why's that?" he spat.

"Family issues."

"Oh? So you're…what? Long lost brother or something? Cousin four times removed?"

"It's a bit more complicated than that."

Crow scowled at Belial, though even that soon faded. Carefully, he turned back to the file, not even beginning to stop and ponder on those fragile bonds he wanted to treasure. He took a deep breath, and opened the file.

The first thing he saw was Yusei's photo, and that same name bombarding his vision over and over again. He fought down a shudder, and continued on, this time, taking in those tiny, minuscule words, along with the numbers that, of course, made absolutely no sense to him. He squinted, trying to read within the growing darkness, as Belial stood there, watching him. Crow narrowed his eyes, and turned away, wasting not a single effort in hiding his disgust against the stranger.

Slowly, his eyes traced over what little information there was in the file; birthdate, unknown, age, unknown, height, weight, breathing capacity, estimated death, AoI, all unknown. Relations, Christof.

He stopped.

Relations; Christof Alteo, AoI, 15. Belletrix Alteo, AoI 27. Meredith Alteo, AoI unknown.

He tightened his grip around the edges. "The hell are these people?" he finally muttered.

"Siblings," Belial answered easily. "They don't have the same parents, if you're wondering. At best, they're all half-siblings. AoI stands for 'Age of Immortality', and with the exception of Meredith, every single child had matured beautifully."

Doubts began swarming back into Crow's head. Before long, his eyes flickered up, sarcastic surprise etched on his face. "Immortality?"

"Correct," he said, ignoring Crow's half-hearted response. "Fallen was, as the name suggests, obsessed with the supernatural; vampires, witches, zombies, practically any monster you can think of. Though the organization itself wasn't the first to fill humanity's imaginations with the horror, they were the ones who stimulated it. Personally, I believe that the founders were dreamers, who thought they could push the boundaries between reality and fiction. They've experimented and experimented, drifting from one fantasy to another, until finally, they came up with a brilliant idea."

"And that was-"

"You see, despite all the monsters available for their use, and despite the fact that they had an arsenal of imaginative thought, the only creature they were truly obsessed with…was the demon.

A devastating pause demolished whatever normality Crow felt was in the atmosphere. He couldn't move, couldn't say anything, as he repeated the word in his brain. He tried finding any traces of playfulness in Belial's face, only to fail each and every time. Meanwhile, Belial turned away, empathy shrouding his features. "I'm sure you've heard of one," he finished lamely.

Crow tore his eyes from Belial, as he scrutinized the man in the photograph. He could feel his shaking ebb away, as he tried wrapping his head around the notion. "And these people, Yusei, was…was a-"

"Demon."

He gritted his teeth. "And why's that?"

"I told you before; to push the boundaries between reality and fiction. For example, the sign you have now," Belial said, as he pointed to Crow's mark, "is a testament to Fallen's research."

Crow looked up. "The Crimson Dragon was your-"

"That's right. That dragon was a product of our hard work. It was a monster that we created in order to protect humanity, and it was through that dragon that we've succeeded. You've beaten back the Dark Signers, didn't you?"

"So wait; Goodwin, Lazar, Sector Security and the Satellite…that was your doing?!"

Belial bowed his head. "We've already had soldiers lined up to take down those Signers. Unfortunately however, somehow Iliaster managed to sink their claws into the dragon, and steal its power. By the time we realized it, you and Mr. Atlas were already involved. Let me apologize, by the way, for getting you all caught up in all of this."

"A little late, don't you think?" Crow hissed. "And what about Yusei?"

"That's just it; Nikolai was originally going to fight them on his own."

"You're saying that…that Yusei was one of your soldiers?"

"No. He was the prime soldier. Under the command of his sister, Belletrix Alteo, he would've ridded the world of the Dark Signers. After that, he would maintain the world structure with her, as her second-in-command. He would've been an asset to Fallen, not just as another leader within the system, but as general, as well as an influential political figure."

Crow narrowed his eyes. "Then where'd the Dark Signers come from? What are they, exactly?"

"Runaway experiments," Belial stated, causing Crow to scowl. "It was an energy we couldn't maintain, so we sealed it away. That energy came into direct contact with the Satellite. Goodwin used that energy and infected the people who would become known as the Dark Signers. In other words, we sent Nikolai to contain that energy."

"Then what happened?" Crow asked, afraid to look down at that picture once again. "Why'd he end up here? How'd he become-?"

"That's what we want to know," Belial admitted. "During Fallen's rise, there was a group, a coven, if you will-"

"The Black Rose."

Reluctance permeated through the air, though in the end, Belial nodded, shamefaced. "That's correct. The Black Rose coven was a terrorist organization that had taken out a dozen or so more of our branches. They were the reason why we weren't able to mobilize in time to fight the Dark Signers. In fact, the reason why you were able to fight the Dark Signers, was because the coven got to Nikolai before we could. And as a result, he became the person you know today, as Yusei Fudo."

"That's impossible."

Belial cocked his head. "And why's that?"

"Because I know Yusei," he said vehenemently. "I remember him. The Yusei I know grew up at the orphanage, with everyone else, with me, and Jack. We were always together, no matter what happened. You can ask anyone. Even Kalin-"

"We can't."

"What?"

"I told you about the coven's interference." Belial said carefully, as he walked toward Crow. He took the file out of his hand, and shifted the papers carefully, until at last, he came to a specific section. Then, without hesitating, he pushed the file back to Crow, and, with one finger, pointed out that name. "Well, this is one of them."

Nikolai Alteo.

Crow batted the file away, causing the papers to scatter all over. "What does that have to do with anything?"

"Memories are a funny thing."

Crow clenched his fists. "What're you talking about?"

"Exactly what I said before," he answered, his arms falling limply to his side. "Memories can be rewritten, erased, anything that your heart so desires. As long as you've got the right…arguments, we'll say, the coven members can make you see anything they want you to see."

"So you're saying that everything, everything, is fake?" Crow asked then. The idea was out of the question. There was no point, none at all, if…

If…

Belial smirked emptily. "Yes, I know it's hard to believe, and we're still working on that. You see, members of that coven were made up of former experiments, our experiments. There are a lot of new faces that I don't know, but some familiar ones that I do recall remembering. Then, of course, there are the nobles…"

"Nobles?"

"Yes," he explained quietly. His eyes fell to the corpse in the box, but before long, whatever forlorn sadness he had now fell from his face, and instead, replaced by a formality, one Crow knew neither how to deal with nor explain. "The Black Rose coven is part of an aristocratic world, similar to that of Neo Domino. Corrupted, tainted, sinful in every sense of the word…"

Crow narrowed his eyes. "What'd you mean?"

"Exactly that," Belial said quietly. "There are various covens within that world, covens that exist solely for the purpose of destroying one another, of guarding their allies. Think of it like Sector Security against the Satellites, or big time politicians who threatened to tear each other apart piece by piece, without the slightest of mercies, or even the duel gangs hidden within the old Satellite. It's a political battlefield, and everyone looks out for their own, no matter how dire the situation is."

Crow clenched his fists, remembering the painful moments of when the Enforcers were trampled over by Sector Security, of when Kalin was dragged away by the officers. "So that's all that is? A 'dog-eat-dog' world?"

"That's right."

"And the nobles?"

"Are the leaders of that world," Belial answered easily. "The nobles are coven leaders who cultivate that sense of ruthless competition. They are the ones who make the laws, who enforce them. They can execute whomever they choose, can destroy anyone they so desire, just as long as it's within their power. The nobles rule over the covens with an iron fist, and the only ones they yield to are those that are stronger than they.

"From what I can understand, social stratification is utilized by titles. The most powerful coven leader is called the 'king'. The second-in-command is the queen, followed by the rook, then the bishop, then everyone else. It's like chess, in that sense."

"What's Yusei then?" Crow demanded. "What's he?"

Once again, those dark, soulless eyes trained back to Crow. "Isn't it obvious? The king, of course."

Blurs of shapes flew past her.

Bullets reigned ahead of her.

And soaking water drenched her to the core.

Her eyes scanned the flurries of footsteps messily splayed around her. An array of puddles were scattered around her, the once dark, morbid decorations so valiantly floating through the air now trampled on the ground. Vain shouts swarmed her ears, as they ran towards whomever was nearest, whether that be the gunmen, or other pieces. Murderous insults glistened within the ballroom, the tension boiling over to a pitiful, helpless plea, as, one by one, the gunmen were apprehended, some by frightened, desperate victims, others by heroic, bold citizens, most of which had too much time on their hands. Akiza only had to look back, to see all her pieces in play; Yusei was nowhere to be found.

She hadn't planned for this, to be perfectly honest. Though somehow, the crowd managed to take control of the chaos, she still couldn't understand how it came to be. Perhaps someone came in and caused a distraction, enabling a few officers from Sector Security to run in ahead. Maybe there was someone who wanted to have a bit of fun, someone who didn't understand the severity of the situation. In any case, it was more effective than Yusei putting himself in danger. That, at the very least, was something she can take comfort in.

She gritted her teeth, as she raced ahead. The second wave was moving. The first attackers were already making their way towards the balcony, trying to expertly avoid the bullets, all the while grabbing the attention of the outsiders, all of whom were now roaring in outrage. Sector Security was handling the men outside, all the while shoving other innocents back, knowing full well what would happen if the protests took advantage. She could hear bullets reign from behind the glass, could feel their many eyes boring her back. Still, she shrugged it aside, in favor of the calm monster standing before her.

He had that same, irritating smirk on his face.

Without thinking, she charged at him. She bit her lip, as he readied himself, his eyes scanning her movements. She kicked off her heels, and hurled one into her hands. Then, in that same moment, she threw it at his face, watching him as he charged right back at her, catching her heel with his left hand. She ducked beneath his arm, grabbed his side, and clawed at his side. Three, horizontal marks were left on his skin, the crimson lodged between her nails. She threw herself back, and was about to come toward him again, when, all of a sudden, she felt herself forced aside. Her back slammed against the hard wall, a sickening crack reaching her ears.

All the breath was forced out of her body. A soundless cry escaped from her throat, though she managed to get herself up, if only to dodge another unseeable attack against her. She narrowed her eyes, as Sam raced to her, a happy, sinful smile gleefully planted across his face. The very same black rose grazed her vision, the bleeding consequences easily embracing her mind. She clenched her fists, her attention turning away from her pawns. Then, in that split second, she stood.

A sharp sting cut her cheek. She felt her head throbbing against her skull, her brain conspicuously falling before the darkness surrounding her vision. She squinted her eyes, as, unknowingly, her body went from side to side, her dark, golden eyes peering from her bangs. Her nails outstretched, she felt herself burst forward, running with all her might. Her pupils dilated, as she took in more and more of his movements, the tension building in his muscles, the pride instantly dissipating from his face, as he tried analyzing her actions as she did his. And, in that very same moment, she dodged yet another force, knocking the energy stabilizer from her hair.

She held her breath, as she stole below his arm. Once again, she aimed for his side, her nails ready and willing, all the while feeling the burst of power succumbing to her own will. Her bangs fell towards her eyes, as she knocked him away, the pressure of her thoughts against his slamming into each other like an unwelcome alarm. She fought down a wince, moving herself forward, trying to position him so that he'd be in the gunmen's way. From the corner of her eyes, she made out the many civilians already racing toward the balconies, that same, daring disposition radiating from their frames.

Her head slammed sideways, and yet another blow dug itself into her stomach. She bit back an agonizing howl, as she dug her fingernails into her wrist. She doubled over, but managed to catch herself. Then, without thinking, she forced him back, imagining his skull twisting within his cervix, dancing to the tunes of her own, malicious desires. And as she did, she could hear every bone in his body crack, the majestic symphony of it all coursing through her veins. She relished in it, knowing full well how much she needed such a thing. Before long, she closed her eyes, though her body drew closer to her assailant, not even bothering to watch over her pawns.

She hummed as she pictured each vein within his body, flowing with an inhuman warmth she neither knew nor could understand. A familiar annoyance ambushed her mind, and without knowing, she drained his body of that warmth. She pictured ever drop of blood spilling, his own limbs cracking beneath the weight of her will. She tore apart every artery, every ventricle within the contents of his heart, and silenced each pulse that dared beat without her permission. From there, she felt her fingers wrapping around those tiny, delicate nerves, slowly suffocating their signals until, at last, the vivacious potentials died away, leaving only stillness in her wake. She could feel her claws worm their way into his lungs, puncturing and crushing every little arteriole her nails could touch. She could feel herself digging into the small holes, tearing away at the capillaries, stealing all the breath in his body without the slightest remorse in doing so.

She could see his body, lying crumpled before her, dissolving in an array of stomach acid, fading within the glimpses of ash as she burned him alive. She could see him withering in pain, pleading loudly that she end it, that she behead him, or shoot him in the heart, or anything else that would've ended in painless silence. She could see herself standing on top of him, pondering on the suggestion, before rejecting it completely, as she began breaking every bone, severing every limb, all the while making sure that he was awake to witness it. She could see herself laughing at his begging, at his pathetic groveling, as she scolded him so very childishly. She could see the shock in his eyes, as he took in the witch in front of him, the cruelty shrouding her aura in a veil of black and white.

His decadent prayers, mixed within a field of corpses; a darling combination, that was only used for her entertainment.

Pitiful.