Chapter XII

Stakeout

The door of the apartment shifts open with a mechanical sound, Zane enters at stumbling steps, accompanied by the catalyst. His feet can take him no further than the couch at the living room, dropping his bottom there with a plop, mumbling curses to himself for not taking any painkillers. Rie stops a few meters away, releasing her breath with a long sigh. she'd been holding it the whole way until now, lowering the hoodie, her pink strands of hair flopping freely out of it.

"I'd love to give you a tour around, but as you can see my movement is limited," he massages his head with a hand, pointing at an inner corridor on the left side "The guest room is over there, you can go and get acquainted with it. My room is in the corridor across from yours, on the other end of the apartment, last door on the right. You can call me if you need anything, I'll be here for a while..."

A deep silence follows, his head lifts curiously, continuing the monologue, he almost forgot she can't speak.

"There should be some spare clothes of mine in the guest room, you can borrow it for now. The place hasn't been visited in a while, so it may feel stuffy and this is no hotel, but I do wish you'll have a comfortable stay. Don't shy away from exploring the apartment."

She hurries out of sight as soon as he finishes, closing the door dividing the living room and the hallway with a soft thud, putting as many barriers between them as possible. Was she afraid of draining his duel energy again? He scoffs at the thought, listening to the ceiling lights of the corridor turning on automatically as she walks through it.

His standoff gaze lands on the left side of the room, near the door she closed, there's a counter separating the kitchen from the rest of the room and a high black bar chair nearby, he grabs the first water bottle he can see in the refrigerator, the chair whirling faintly to the side when his weight crashes onto it to rest.

"Not looking forward to this whole recovery at home thing." he states wearily, completing with a sigh.

With his cellphone in hand, he scrolls down a dozen messages from his "manager" Shroud asking when he will be back, his eyes narrowing in contempt, it's unavoidable, at some point he'll need to go back there and resume Alexis' request.

If his little "mischief" on the east already was blown to the four winds, it's possible more enemies are after his head and he'll need double watch when he ventures into the pits. His dawdling is disrupted by the sound of the door creaking open, is she already finished? His head turns to the left side instinctively.

From the small crevice, her blue orbs peeks at him. Is she unsure or perhaps unwilling to show herself up? Even so, he can tell from the familiar grey T-shirt those are certainly not hospital robes.

"Don't worry, it looks better on you than on me."

He comments mindlessly, an attempt to break the ice, taking a sip of his water bottle. A weird quietness succeeds, a bitter reminder that he needs to find means of non-verbal communication.

A thin squeak echoes, it's the door opening more, bringing his attention to her again, she's still half-hidden behind it. His shirt seems to cover as much as a short dress, reaching almost the middle of her thighs under Shou's hoodie, but she's missing pants. Did the clothes not fit her after all?

"Huh… I'm sure we can find something that's your size," he adds with a dull stare, bordering awkwardness, at a loss for how to properly deal with the situation.

Her shoulders slump, her fingers crunching tightly the frames on the wall, her eyebrows twirling up in discomfort. Playing this game of guessing the problem can get tiring surprisingly fast.

"Why don't you come over here?" he dabs the other bar seat beside him "I can get you paper and a pen and you can tell me the problem, we'll try to fix it."

At last, she's out of her hideout, tugging the shirt down to cover herself more, wincing at the idea of getting closer, a half annoyed glare at him, she gave up on trying to convey the issue. He casts a brief, confused glance before gulping more water, a pause on his thoughts before a realization comes to his mind: If she had to drop off all her clothes, and all that fit her were shirts… His eyes slowly widening in shock, his brain connects the dots:

"Shit. She's… not using anything under it, is she?"

He spits the water in his mouth in a jet all over the marble counter, gagging on it, coughing aplenty, slapping his chest, his throat burning alongside his cheeks. Giving a quick swirl to turn the bar chair the other way around with his weight, facing the opposite direction, he yanks a phone out of his pockets, rushing to make a call:

"I… I think I need some assistance."

His admission comes off troubled, his eyes screaming internally in a plea for help. The girl in the background fidgets worriedly, her hands stretching and recoiling, holding back to not approach him beyond the safety distance. Talk about a blunder.

At the city's plaza

Water cascades from a gorgeous white fountain shaped like a rose bud preparing to bloom. Droplets sprinkling on the grass, the main stream gushes in four directions, to fall on a small round pool whose water runs like a river under the glass-tile walkways of the floor, adorned on the sides by green and flowers.

In front of the fountain, there's a greek-styled pedestal, behind it the famous General Garius, a microphone supported by a metal rod close to his face, his posture is eximious for the high society citizens, guards surrounding his perimeter, some summoners among them.

In the crowds, a pack of reporters wait anxiously for his speech, tittering. The hushed whispers cease when he sways his hands for them to calm down.

"Honorable citizens of Domino!" he calls solemnly, clicks of pictures soaring accompanied by strobing flashes, it doesn't faze him in the least "Not long ago, an unfortunate occurrence took place in our city! During a festive occasion, a tragedy ensued. I've seen fear spread and rumors! However, there's no need to fear, despite the terrorist, subversive attempts to hurt our people, we are tracking them and we assure you this won't repeat!"

He raises his closed fist, motivating claps on the observers, as soon as he stops, all the reporters start commenting and asking about his statement:

"What policies do you have in mind to secure the city?"

"Every inch of this city will be monitored, all communications will be intercepted! They will be analyzed by our detectives! And the city will enter temporary martial law, our walls will not receive any visitors nor any citizen will move away until we find clues or put those criminals to prison! If they dare come, we will get them! We'll chase them and give a lawful punishment! That day will be a day to rejoice!"

"Can you tell us about your war feats, general?"

"Do you believe preventing people from entering or leaving the city will help find the criminals faster?"

"I heard the families of those who died in the incident were paid a sum of your own money, are you always this generous, Sir?"

Amidst the chaos of questions afloat from all sides and mix of female, male voices, under the disdainful glare of the general covered by his polite and political smile to give a planned answer, a black-haired woman whose hair is tied in two low twin-tails squeezes herself between others, holding a microphone and an audio recorder, making herself distinct among her peers:

"General Garius, Sir! We heard the Prince Jack Atlas of Satellite was wounded! What will the Emperor do about this? You were put in charge of the investigation for the stolen card at the stadium and the recent terrorist attack, but no news were given about the progress on that. What do you have to say?"

There's a slight twitch on his brows as she obviously wasn't convinced by his image as a flack on the Empire's behalf. A bodyguard trudges menacingly at her, stopping at the hand command of the blonde general.

"The progress on the investigation is withheld because we know our enemies might be keeping an eye on our moves, this is for the safety of all our citizens! The prince is alive and well and will have an audience with the Emperor himself to get an apology! Worry not, everything is settled!"

He doesn't bother looking in her direction, his eyes roaming everywhere but on her, simply raising his hands to placate the crowd, causing a grumpy furrow on her eyebrows, the shamelessness of taking a chance to promote his side, but it's no reason to give up:

"General Garius, I also heard the sum of money paid to the families was to keep them shut about the laxed security of the event, which created an opportunity for the terrorists in the first place. Can you answer that?"

"True, money won't cover for their emotional loss, but their loved ones will not only be buried with honor, but get a monument and in the future, this day will be remembered to mourn their loss."

People clapped again at his words, souring even more the mood of the young reporter, a swift, victorious smirk flashes on Garius' lips, she realizes it's not possible to change their minds or raise attention to the actual problems, there are smiles on the faces of everyone around, they ask about minor things, unimportant matters. She crankily walks off, letting out her dismay in a single sigh. There's only one thing that will lift her mood:

"Hello?" she glues the cellphone on her ear "Lex, do you think we could have a video call tonight?"

"Sure. But why so suddenly, Mindy?"

"Can you believe that cocky general Garius was at it again? The nerve! He said they have everything under control, isn't it obvious they don't? Here I thought I wasn't the smartest tool in the shed, people believe anything nowadays."

"They believe what they want to believe, there's no point in trying to be too harsh without means to open their eyes. I feel sorry you have to go through this."

"Professor Crowler would be praising me now if he knew my bad grades mean nothing when I'm among such blind people. Sheesh."

"Don't waste your time stressing over it, you know how General Garius is disliked by many people because he's one of the banners for diplomatic matters of the Empire, also be careful with what you say, they may charge you for badmouthing public figures."

"I wish I had your patience, Lex."

"If you want a good hook, come over to the duel academy, we're setting up a tournament, the Empire asked the school to promote the event for some reason. It may take a couple months until it's fully planned, but should take place at the beginning of next year. No one knows about it yet, so I'm sure you can get some very great shots and drop the stress of dealing with smug generals." she chuckles, soothing even more the mood.

"You're the best, Lex! I'll pay you a drink when we meet!"

"Hmm, some nice tea will do! I can't drink alcohol now that I'm working."

Their light hearted chatter takes a few more minutes before she ends the call, taking down notes on her next assignment: a visit to the duel academy.

At a high floor of a skyscrapper

Zane grimaces when the nurse rubs a damp cloth over his injury, a sting that travels to the depths of his bones, his posture tensing up in reflex. Fonda casts a short glance at his expression, concentrating on the procedure, taking a clean bandage from the briefcase stationed at his side on the bed.

"You moved too much lately, your skin is not healing perfectly. This will leave a mark."

"I could be dead, having a scar instead seems like a good price to pay."

She glues the bandage neatly, pressing it soft enough to not cause any more harm, a faint, wry smile protruding on her face, becoming a tad worried as he gulps dryly to drown a pained grunt through stark determination, pulling his shirt down to cover it right after.

"I'm surprised you'd ask for help."

"I can't do everything alone and I can't get out of the apartment."

"You used to be cuter and more reasonable when you were in school."

"I learned how to be more efficient."

"There's no efficiency in being dead."

"Okay, you win. Now, can you tell me how she is?"

"I gave her some old clothes I could find and bought some new pieces along the way here too, she's covered for the time being. But… After this, she will be seeing you in a new light, you know you shouldn't just take a girl in without considering their needs and some essentials. Anyways, she will do just fine, I'm more concerned about someone else…"

Her face tilts subtly towards him, his mouth gaping open to gather air, readily rebuking as if poked by the irony in her eyes:

"In my defense, the only guest I ever welcomed here was Syrus, and it's been long. I was unprepared, I admit, it's not everyday you find a catalyst on the run. Being a host is not my forte."

"You're a king in the underground, or so I hear, I'm sure you can figure out how to be a good host." with light taps on his shoulder, she ends the procedure.

"Thank you for the aid, miss Fontaine."

"I'll come back to remove the stitches in a couple more days, you would do well in actually staying at home and resting, for once. We don't want it to reopen." she packs her things up quickly, closing the briefcase and preparing to leave.

"I can't promise, but I'll do my best."

She crooks a brow in a dubious manner, staring at him like a judgmental mother that caught her son lying, completing her instructions, her hands on hips:

"And Zane, this means no brawling, no underground duels, no summoning and… No action of any kind."

The last part, she hissed in an insinuating whisper, between her teeth. He points his index finger, practically offended by her words:

"No, you didn't say that. You can't really think I would-"

"You're an adult, you're young and I fear whichever poisons the underground force-fed into this stubborn head of yours, better safe than sorry."

"Hey, just because I've been to the underground, it doesn't mean I'm really like the people who frequent such ambiences! This is undercover work! I didn't lose my morals!"

"Take care, Truesdale."

Pursing her lips to muffle a snicker, she flutters her fingers, her expression denouncing his argument was dismissed inside her mind. He answers in a sulky scowl with how she finds certain delight in teasing him and that he actually got flustered from that.

"You too, miss Fonda."

A huff flares out of his nostrils after the door closes, briskly swinging his head in annoyance, he may be reckless, overconfident and have many other bad traits, but he's certainly not a jerk like Bonaparte and he takes pride in that.

His gaze is lost in the maze of lines of his own palm, if only he could act, but in his current state, nothing will be achieved even if he slips into the underworld. Rather than mulling over what he can't do, in this moment of peace, he should work on what he can still do while the peace lasts, that's his lesson to learn: to wait when it's time and to act when it's time.

Night at the suburbs

The moon graciously sheds light into the streets, the stones absorbing the gelid air. The movement outside is almost as lively as during the day, but of different kinds of people, many of them, waiting on alleyways or observing the passing figures on the main paths, smoking, lurking.

Bars and taverns are all busy, groups of friends play cards while cackling, of all sorts, gambling and betting who'd be the winners; the hoarse guffaws of drunkards cheers the establishments. The beats of the nearby nightclubs makes hearts bump, many people queuing to enter the most popular ones and bouncers taking care of the doors.

Unlike the bustling streets, the alleys on the sides are grim, the icy wind howling between the small crevices spacing the buildings. Containers of trash amounted at the entrance of the smaller paths, behind one of them, Jaden hides, anxiously munching a bun he clutches single-handedly, his attention shifts to the main road, it's a stakeout.

From the top of a building Avian awaits for his orders, watching over any strange movement and his master's safety. At the east zone, Burstinatrix flicks her finger, igniting a flame on the tip and ceasing it repeatedly, the flickering fire reflected on her intense orbs; on the west Sparkman leans against a wall, near the main street, his garments covered by a dark jacket and a hoodie, his gaze focused and his arms crossed; at the north, Clayman pretends to be a statue at the front of an antique shop and Bubbleman hides at the next corner. If they can't sight the criminal, they'll have to start over with a brand new plan.

Interlude VI - Excerpt from the book "Life in the Suburbs" written by Tristan Taylor

If you walk anywhere in the capital, there are innumerous places one could point out as an attraction or interesting to visit. In my case, there's a place that ensnared my heart: the suburbs.

While anywhere else you'll find a multitude of skyscrapers, offices, beautiful gardens and cultural traps - If you allow a personal input - the suburbs have it the best. A sloppy architecture? Yes. Are the streets overcrowded? Yes. Are there lousy people and unnecessarily loud nights? Absolutely! Notwithstanding, I find myself going there over and over, the people, the duel monsters, they've captivated me.

In millenniums of existence, the capital of Domino and its prime society have enhanced the life of the citizens, brought about all technological advancements and commodities one would wish for, but the suburbs displayed a way of life that no other place has shown before: the coexistence of duel monsters and humans.

Anything you need or want, people there will open heartedly welcome and assist you and so will their duel monsters. The summoners of the less privileged areas of Domino showed that it's possible to reach a mutual understanding even with creatures of another dimension, and puzzling ones like duel monsters at it. They shine light on the best of both societies together.

Visiting such a place is making a discovery of a parallel way of living, it's as rushed and stressful as city life, yet as enjoyable and peaceful as a countryside life. If you need a job, you'll be working alongside duel monsters, if you go to a café or any store, you'll also be interacting with them! A normal sight that makes the main plazas of the city feel empty compared to the liveliness of exchanging words and experiences with creatures labeled unknown to all of us for so long.

I invite you to drop by and meet this marvelous part of our city, to appreciate a portion of what makes the current Domino a beacon of hope and example for future generations to learn from. That we might be able to coexist with duel monsters without thinking of them as tools for war, but as our friends and beings we cherish as much as our own family.

Southern region

Inside dark halls

Rex casts a glance at the man walking steadfastly beside him, his nose wrinkling in spurn: the unbreakable posture with no openings for any attack, the uncanny aura he bears, wearing it so naturally as if it's another piece of his garments. No wonder he can easily pair with an assassin, the guy has a strong presence.

To escape boredom, he sparks a conversation, and when it's about talking, he wants all conversations to flow at his own pace, a control he couldn't often grapple when dealing with Nightshroud, much to his rage.

"So, you and your apprentice are quite close, aren't you? I always wanted to ask this, but," a foul smirk creeps on his lips "How far did you go with her?"

Darkness halts, his face mechanically and ominously turning to the side, his mysterious mask causing a chill on his companion, not knowing which expression he had under it, sprinkles of red dust scattered haphazardly all over.

"Is this a new intimidation tactic?" Rex's eyes narrow slyly, feeling his enemy is glaring daggers at him "Just asking, your duel energy is pouring out like crazy, I thought maybe you're still hung up on our little feud about the Red-Eyes?"

"That's irrelevant," he blurts out inexpressibly, resuming his walking, his head shaking but minimally in reprehension "Is this a solo mission?"

"Yeah, as far as I know. Why? Are ya feeling lonely already?" a sardonic sneer accompanies the sentence, seizing an opportunity to provoke the other "I guess the boss is a little disappointed in your disciple's performance. He explicitly asked to call only you," he throws his arms at the back of his head nonchalantly, his chest stuffed haughtily "It seems you need to train your pet a bit more, hehe."

They arrive at the main doors leading to the boss's chambers, both stopping simultaneously, the purple-haired man spins around, his job is done. An unexpected call startling him:

"Rex Raptor," his profile is barely seen, only a small corner of his mask is visible "I suggest you refrain from dabbling with matters that do not relate to you or we'll end up having a problem."

A dark and bright red aura lashes out from him, spreading in waves, so fierce it creates gusts of wind that flow into the corridor, Rex's hair floating slightly, his eyes opening wide, his opponent gives the final push, a pause between the spelling of each word:

"Is that clear?"

The dinosaur summoner grits his teeth momentarily as a response, forcing a smirk that wrinkles his expression to hide his wrath, putting his hands on his pockets, shrugging his shoulders:

"Relax, buddy. I'm just a curious person by nature, you don't need to feel all attacked. We're cool."

Darkness follows his silhouette until he disappears into the halls. Soon after, cold sweat drips from his face disrupting the long seconds of quietude, his body staggers a step to the side, his hand finding support on the wall, his lips splitting apart gasping for breath, more beads coming down his chin, dropping to the ground as his hand clings tightly to his chest. Going as far as showing off his aura and feign irritation to cover for his duel energy leaking, his desperate measures took a toll on him.

"Not much time is left…" he mumbles to himself.

In a minute, his posture fully recomposes, appearing standoff as he intrudes the chamber, the sounds of machinery running and tinkling invades the air, the liquid on the tube holding his master bubbling to boiling point as he kneels in front of him.

"Nightshroud, I'm lenient with failure, the child is young and inexperienced, but results must be met."

"Understood, lord. I'll see to it that she's educated to overcome her flaws next time."

"Good. There's a job for you."

"I'm listening."

"Your skills and power will be required soon, to the next step in our plan. In the meantime, you shall raise an army in the west and north before time is nigh."

"An army? Who should I look for?"

"Not mercenaries. But summoners who are willing to take part in the action of battle, those who seek power, we shall give it to them if they swear loyalty to the cause. Recruit all you can, the next orders will be delivered once it's time."

"So be it, milord."

"Make haste."

He nods once before standing up and leaving to his next objective, his mind drifting off, if he's going on alone, what will be of Cleah? This is the first time they've been designated to a different mission ever since she joined the Shadow Riders under the façade of his apprentice. Something's off about it.

Whichever reason they have, he dislikes it's falling upon them in such a crucial moment. Those might be hard, perplexing times for her, unfortunately, she'll need to care of herself alone, as he predicted. With a hand on his chest, his heartbeats sluggishly compass inside him, his lips angle down, an unperceivable change. Will Atticus awaken from the slumber before… Before everything goes awry?

North Alley

Bubbleman's watchzone

A passerby crosses the main road, kicking small pebbles with his drunk walking, a group of men follow behind, some of them shaking the head, one approaches the poor fellow, holding him by the arm and helping him up straight.

"Don't go hanging on this turf alone, dude! Have you not heard about the incidents?"

"Ugh…"

The man is so nauseous and out of himself he pukes on the streets, splashing on the shoes of his helper that immediately recoils with an "Ew, you should go home". His friends laugh at him, enough to bend their stomachs.

A buzzing occurs on Bubbleman's communicator, Jaden's voice comes through with interference, cutting off in some parts:

[Have… found… yet?]

"I'm sorry, Jaden, nothing suspicious so far, only common folk."

His tone is so low he isn't sure if it connected to the other side of the line. Before he can hear the report on the other end, another voice barges in, a shriek comes from near their side of the city, a female's tone this time:

[Burstinatrix here… visual… the…]

He flinches, standing up by instinct, a flock of crows flies away from the east, at her watching zone, a giant flashlight appears in the sky, forming an H surrounded by a circle. Jaden balls his fists, shouting out loud the commands:

"It's the Hero Signal! Let's all meet there, everyone! We can't lose track of this guy!"

All the Elemental Heroes leave their spots, Avian flies with Jaden over to the location, the signal blinks interrupted until it's out, the Hero master scowls, worried whether his friend was hurt. But she's a tough one, right? No way she'd lose easily.

It was too early to think that. Avian drops Jaden by the scene, flapping his wings to keep himself midair, Sparkman darts into the street with dashing boots from which blue flames shine, Bubbleman mounts on Clayman's shoulder as the giant comes running, the E-Heroes are gathered.

On the middle of the street, as per described by witnesses, a tall, bulky figure stands, a white man with an alien-alike semblance, its eyes are like gems, much like the core on his chest, his hand gripping firmly the neck of Burstinatrix, raising her, she doesn't move as if her blaze had been extinguished.

"He's a duel monster like us!" Sparkman gasps.

"His energy is dangerous, watch out, Jaden!" Avian warns worriedly, keeping a sharp watch on the criminal.

"You there! Let go of-"

Jaden stutters during his demand as the creature looks at him, his eyes petrified as the sunlight bathes the monster, his gaze wavering bewildered:

"Elemental HERO Neos…?"

The lost card, Neos, thought to be stolen by the criminal organization the Shadow Riders, stands right in front of him. But that can't be. This has to be a big, bad joke, right? Neos is a Hero not a killer, then,

"Why is he here?"