Chapter XIII

Shrouded by the Light

A whirlwind of thoughts crosses Jaden's head, but none of them are close to the truth. What does Neos being here mean? And how does this tie into the recent disappearance of summoners? Once confronted by those questions, he has to find the answer.

The duel monster tosses the hero lady away, her body colliding to the trash containers on the side, sliding off at fluffy bags. Startled at it, her master rushes to her aid, shaking her by the shoulder, occasionally looking at the cryptic monster observing each of his movements.

"Burstinatrix! Hey, wake up!"

"Jaden!" Avian exclaims, urging the master to focus.

He stands up, whirling around in instinct, his fist clutching and teeth gritting. This can't be Neos, but the appearance from tip to toe and the strange ethereal aura surrounding the creature.

"Neos! Why are you doing this? How are you here?!"

There was no answer, a tense bead of sweat rolling down the cheekbones of his other Elemental Heroes as they exchanged a glance. Neos cocks his head up as if analyzing those below him and finding them unworthy of his time, in a blink of an eye, like a flash, there he is in front of Jaden.

His fist a millimeter from his face until Sparkman punches him from the side, Neos diverts his attention, holding the punch and focusing on the fellow Hero instead. Veins popping out on his whole arm, his muscles taut as he delivers a punch, sending Sparkman away.

Without wasting a millisecond, Neos turns around in time to stop Avian's advance, yanking him by the arm and sending him to the skies, leaping upwards, Neos gathers energy on the tip of his fists, releasing it through a powerful blow to the torso of his enemy that crashes onto the nearest building, plummeting to the ground from there.

Still in the air, a shower of bubbles burst, a boiling smoke coming out of the back of Neos, he swerves his gaze in a rush, looking at the attacker: Bubbleman. Letting out a war cry, Neos darts, circular waves forming around him as he pierces the speed of sound, faster and faster, his punch reaching a different target this time.

Clayman jumps in to tank the attack, his muddy chest plate cracking at the impact, a crater in the shape of a punch opening.

"Clayman!"

Jaden shouts, running after his friend, the white Hero glares at him at the call at the same time as Bubbleman who then materializes his Bubble Blaster, shooting it at Neos' back, pushing him steps forward.

"Jaden! Ru-"

A shadow blocks his path, before his lips finish that sentence, wielding the weapon that hit him not long ago, Neos slams the torpedo into Bubbleman's head, taking him down. His posture straightens as he looks into the summoner's eyes.

"N-Neos… You're a hero of justice! You can't be serious about this… You're hurting everyone… What did you do to those summoners? Did you really kill them?"

His feet skid back apprehensively, frowning at the villain unraveling in front of his sight, at slow, cold steps drawing closer, his blood running to his brain.

"There has to be something wrong with him," he beats his own head with soft punches "Yes, maybe something was done to him, to warp his nature, like a dark-summon or something. If that's the case, then…" he pulls out more gems from his red jacket "We have to help Neos!" The sound of plastic shuffling behind him causes a flinch, a smile opening up, Burstinatrix is alive is all he could think, his body shudders as he tries to turn around, a pair of arms coming under his armpits, holding him tightly in a lock.

"Burstinatrix? What are you doing?! Aah!"

His mouth gapes open in a confused shout of complaint as he's raised from the ground, flinging his legs, a chilling breath causing a shiver to run down his body, the hero lady approaches her face from the side of his head, her eyes, pure white like the light veins crackling up her skin coming from below her eyeline. Whatever is wrong with Neos infected her too.

From the front, the Spacian Hero starts running, the ground becoming rubble under his feet, his afterimage left behind, in an instant, his fist is ahead of Jaden's face, halting there, his palm opening and grabbing the summoner's head:

"Neos… Ugh-"

Clutching Jaden's face, those words are suffocated in his throat as he struggles to breathe, red grains of light floating out of Jaden as he strives to get free, his duel energy is quickly being depleted, his gems slowly become rocks.

With a hazy sight, he starts bordering unconsciousness, is this it? All his heroes will go back to the duel monster realm if his energy floats away, why is Neos killing summoners and was he stealing their energy like this too?

A sparkle of hope twinkles in his eyes as Neos releases the grip on him forcefully, a strange blue hand has a contest of strength with the Space Hero, fending it back.

From their side, Neo-Spacian Aqua Dolphin takes shape from red flakes of duel energy, his soft spoken voice breaking the tense mood in the air:

"I'm sorry Jade, I deliberately summoned myself, this is above your current level…"

From behind, Avian strikes Burstinatrix, forcing her to loosen her grip, an enraged grunt coming out of her mouth, clearly she's still not herself, her searing fists attempting to land flames on the green Hero, he avoids skillfully:

"Jaden! What are your orders?"

Sparkman also comes back into the scene, shooting his Spark Gun at Neos, making him kneel down as the Aqua Dolphin strengthens his fosts around Neos's.

"We're all here! Just tell us what to do! Burstinatrix isn't in her right mind, but we'll take care of her too!" the blue hero shouts out loud from afar, trying to cheer up his master.

"Guys… I couldn't have better friends! Please, help me get Neos! If we all fight together, we can do it!"

"No, Jade-"

The Aqua Dolphin flinches distracted at the affirmation, the summoner is still young and he has no idea of the power he's fighting against. Neos stands up, overcoming his enemy, pushing back the dolphin, his silver aura burning more fiercely as if preparing for an ultimate move.

A whistle disrupts the attack, their gazes all gather at the same point, the end of the dim street, the surge of light emanating from Neos ceases, they gulp in tension, in the next second, he pumps his muscles up, squatting down and leaping after a deep growl, at such speed he becomes a comet of light, dashing away at lightning speed.

"Wait!"

Jaden aims his hands at the sky, but the comet is long gone, as soon as the white hero flees, Burstinatrix's eyes come back to normal, her power dwindling and her body shaking forth and back before she collapses, Avian taking hold of her before she reaches the ground.

"Aw, man!" he messes his brown hair, everything is going awry, his lady Hero is in trouble, Neos just fled and Aqua Dolphin appeared out of nowhere "Dolphin! You never wanted to do a contract with me before!" he points his finger in an accusing tone, a tad disgruntled.

"Jade, you were not ready at that time. Plus, I was waiting to meet my friends, it's a pity I'll have to wait a bit longer…" his dark eyes linger on the path Neos took.

"What do you mean? Do you require a special contract or something? I can ask Syrus, Chazz or anyone about it, please tell me! I really need you guys' help!"

"Unfortunately our talk will have to wait once more," he closes his eyes solemnly "But I'll wait until we can converse, I'll explain you the problem, Jade, I hope this will give you insight on what Neo-Spacian Heroes are and what is the problem with Neos now…"

His voice fades along with his body that slowly dissipates into nothingness, the summoner opening lips to pinch more sentences in, but it's too late.

There's no time to ponder, from afar he sees a bunch of silhouettes running in the darkness towards their general direction, a man pointing and yelling:

"There they are! The suspicious people!"

"Crap! We've been found!" Jaden 's shoulder bristles up.

"Raise your arms!"

"Wait! I'm a summoner!" he clumsily takes out his ID to show it, raising it along with his arm "I'm here on a mission-"

His sentence is cut short by a dart that pierces the side of his neck, his whole body shuddering and he falls to the floor, his heroes calling out his name.

"No, this…" he plucks off the dart, it had a thin needle attached to it "I'm sorry guys…"

"Jaden!" Avian stretches his hand, but his arm vanishes into nothingness, he looks at himself, saddened at the conclusion "An anti-summoning drug… Jaden, we're-"

Jaden's eyes threaten to close as he watches all his heroes dematerialize, the dark shoes of the assailants greet his sight, he can see their uniforms, imperials. Two soldiers lift him up, each yanking him by one arm, his limp body unable to react as all his dueling energy was blocked off.

"Let's take him into custody! Orders were clear, no suspects allowed to get a free pass! We're interrogating him when he wakes up!"

They haul him to a van parked nearby and throw him into there with no care. That car drives away from the suburbs with no witnesses besides the few snitchers who denounced the summoner and his heroes.

At Zane's apartment,

Faint moonlight escapes between the crevices of the blinders, specks of dust afloat in the light. Rie casts a glance at the door. It isn't locked. Bonaparte taught her a lesson, that locks would never stop him, he had all the keys of the mansion, he had control over every inch of it.

Strangely enough, the physical punishments aside and the improper groping in front of guests, he never went further than that, as if he was just enjoying himself before she's sent away, yet the thought he could enter at anytime tortured her mind. He knew and relished it, this little pleasure of cultivating fears in her and he called it a "preparation" for much worse that was to come for her.

She slides off the bed, maybe a small night adventure into the house will clear her mind from those thoughts. Unlocking the door carefully, her head sticks out, the lights on the corridors turn on automatically, a jolt runs her body, her hands tapping the walls in panic until some switches are flipped, turning it on and off until it's dark. A deep sigh escaping her lips.

The floor is gelid under her barefoot, each step making her toes freeze more, her eyes roam around the blandly colored walls, there are no paintings or any decoration, unlike the flashy and pompous statues and wide variety of expensive antiques and art the slave master collected. This place is so neat, but so lifeless.

The nights in Bonaparte's mansion were nothing like this, he was always meeting people or partying and even when she wasn't on duty, the sounds of the guests indulging themselves in unspeakable delights would ruin her sleep.

It's all over. In a single night, it all went down, burned to ashes as if that was no more than a distant dream haunting the past. The singing of the crickets outside in the garden of the mansion or the hushed voices around the rooms, she won't hear any of that anymore. This place is completely empty compared to that, and it's not even a sixth of the mansion's size. Yet, this silence is disquieting, it makes the space feel larger.

She creaks the door to the living room open, it's also hollow, but from across the place, she can see brightness in the corridor coming out of a room. A glimmer of life in the void, her legs thoughtlessly guiding her there, her eyes bewitched by it, like a moth to flames.

Tiptoeing near the entrance, still hidden behind the wall, she bends slightly to take a peek, the luminance burning her orbs a tiny bit until she's adjusted to it. It's smaller than her bedroom, an office of sorts: there's a table on the middle-left corner, Zane's there sitting, his back facing the entrance, metallic pieces and gadgets haphazardly tossed all over the surface of his working space, a small lamp atop his table joining efforts with a stronger lamp at the ceiling.

What is he doing here? This doesn't seem to be his room, it's the middle door, not the last one as he said before. Stretching on top of her toes, she tries to see over his shoulder and head, inspecting what he's messing with, but her feet flat down with a dull plop as a voice addresses:

"There's a free seat here. Or will you just stand there?"

The color eludes her skin as he turns half around, his arm supported on the back of the chair, following her with eyes as she enters the room with a lowered head, clutching her hands in front of the shorts of the black overall like a child that was just scolded. Does he have eyes on his back or what?

She sits across from him, shoulders shrinking, at least his shirt fits her clothes better now and she has more layers underneath. He leans to the side, opening a drawer and grabbing a small notebook and a pen, sliding it towards her.

"For now you can use this. You know how to write, right?"

After being replied to with a nod from her head, his gaze soon focuses on the square piece of metal frame, its fillings spread on the table, many circuit boards in different sizes.

"Did you have trouble sleeping?"

The quietness that follows makes him risk a glance at her, she grimaces, unsure of what to answer. The only sounds are low, faint voices coming from the TV in the background, on the news channel.

"It isn't a problem, as you can see I'm having trouble sleeping myself, so I decided to use my time better. I'll be sitting most of the day anyways," he grips a solder on the side, melting some circuit to fix it "I don't fault you for not sleeping, you shouldn't trust just anyone, keeping an eye open is fine, at times."

Mixed in the voice of reporters, he hears the pen rubbing on the paper, she raises the notebook for him to see the text on the page, her calligraphy is much prettier and readable than his:

"I'm sorry for bothering you."

"You're not bothering."

He sways his hand to dismiss it, pulling another topic, the suspender of her overall sliding down her shoulder as she watches anxiously. Maybe she isn't used to talking to people because of her "upbringing" in that mansion? Or perhaps it's his daunting aura that scares her? Is she young enough to be scared of him?

"How old are you again, Rie?"

"20" she writes, questioning his point inwardly.

"Twenty? Really?" he unscrews two pieces bound to the frame "I'd give you seventeen at most. Hard to believe we're the same age."

A sulky pout forms on her lips, she isn't sure if meant that as a compliment or an insult. Flipping a new side of the paper, she scribbles more:

"How did you know I was behind you?"

"If you had as many enemies as me, you'd quickly learn how to watch your back."

For a minute the only noise was the clinking of pieces as he moved them around, inspecting the lines of the circuits. She has no idea of what that object used to be, but he seems knowledgeable. Are summoners supposed to also know mechanics?

The next question on the page amuses him. "What are you doing?"

"Tinkering with an old device from school times," he takes the solder again and resumes the work "Did you know that in the curriculum of the duel academy they also teach summoners to deal with electronic devices and a generous diversity of machines?"

With a side glance he sees a brisk, negative shake of her head as an answer, her stare transfixed on the piece of metal on his hand, it's clear she's curious, he has to contain a snigger, continuing the tale:

"The Empire thought that, if they're raising soldiers for war, to serve them, they must be prepared and that includes knowing how to fix important devices and basics of handling them. Communicators, radios, weapons, everything you can imagine as a tool. After the war started, they reinforced those teachings and made them obligatory for students and I was studying there at the time. I can't even complain that the bastards don't know what they're doing, it does help to know about it," he lays the piece down, taking another one and pushing it to fit into the silver frame "They just didn't expect it could be used against them."

Her wary gaze watches his crafting, her thoughts drifting off somewhere else. The voices on the small led TV supported at the far right corner of the place draw her attention:

[Now, to our contact in the East! Please, tell us: how is Deltora after the big criminal fire that killed one of the most renowned deputies representing the Empire?]

The female reporter is composed as another smaller screen is shown with a man, in front of the old Bonaparte mansion, or what used to be it, the camera zooming in: all ruins, scorched and pulverized.

[We all mourn a great loss, he was one of the most influential men in the region and owned distinct business as well as important partnerships across the seas, the economy will suffer before new leaders assume his companies and continue his legacy.]

[There were rumors that slaves were involved in the accident, is that true?]

[Yes, it was confirmed by the investigators that the slaves helped the rebels set fire in the mansion, an ill-intended attack. It's possible the rebels held a grudge against Mr. Bonaparte because of his feats in war, he was one of the generals that enforced harsh punishments on all deserters and rebellious soldiers. Fueled by rage, they decided to burn his mansion down, a cruel attack while he slept. After getting hold of the chaos as the fire spread, he died inside his mansion while overseeing his maids and butlers leave to safety. According to some witnesses, by the time the firefighters came, he couldn't be saved anymore.]

[What an honorable way to go, I'm sure those who knew him will remember him fondly.]

Rie frowns, they are blatantly lying. But If she and Zane are considered criminals, then people will come after them right? Like the men in black who tried to kidnap her or that summoner who used her powers. Zane's deep exhale makes her flinch awake from the trash they spit on the news, sandy line of dust coming out of him.

"Nervous again?" he raises a brow in irony, it was a rhetorical question "Syrus erased all traces of our presence for the public at least. He's good at cleaning up my mess. Despite his size, he's very reliable. He probably declared you dead or something and spread some misinformation around, he knows his stuff."

"Will more people come after you? Or me?" her brows furrow up, gulping dryly at the thought.

"It's likely the imperials know I was there, and that they'll try something for sure, but," he lifts the solder pen to point it out "They'll have to play dirty to get me without making a fuss. I'm also a tax-paying civilian of Domino for all intents and purposes, they can't easily invade a civilian's house and cover for it if it's any summoner ranked UR, for that matter. That's why they hate summoners who aren't on their side, they are wild variants and hard to get by conventional means. If they dare jail a high ranked summoner, some activists will be very furious and cause trouble and that's bad for them. Even so, I'll keep an eye."

"Are you sure? They lied about Mr. Bonaparte."

"Yes, they did. This just shows to you, Rie, the Empire can't leak anything about catalysts, do you know the scandal it would be if slaves and catalysts were found at Bonaparte's mansion? Or any of what he's been up to?"

Hunching her shoulders, she answers vaguely, he coldly dishes the facts in calculated words, an analysis of his own:

"If by any chance people find out that an UR registered summoner blew the filth they've been hiding under the Empire's carpet into a giant fan alongside rebels, that would defame the Empire's glorious reputation. And by subverting the acts of this said summoner that is under their scrutiny, think of the shame that they allowed 'criminals' like me to become summoners in the first place, it could discredit them for a whole generation."

"Can't they just lie about that too?"

"They can, but that would raise doubts, about why a summoner would do this and make people think and they might find an answer, it would tip the balance of the underground way too much, like Bonaparte's case and all sorts of problems could arise. The Empire doesn't want doubts being seeded into the citizens' heads or people thinking about any complex layer of society. So they will forge an excuse, they get to keep their image, I get to keep my anonymity and they can scheme in the darkness while I will have to deal with a paid mercenary or ten after my head."

He adds the last part with a crook of his brow as if a particular memory hit the spot, annoying him.

"This sounds complicated."

"It's just politics. But that's not for you to worry, you should concentrate on getting a hold of your own powers."

His hands swiftly match pieces, forming the insides of the device he was fixing up until now, proceeding with a monologue he wanted her to listen to:

"Once I can go out, I'll contact a specialist about you and see if they can help, it would be good if you can stop stealing duel energy before the rebels can take you in."

Her gaze is cast down to the table at his nonchalant tone. Even now, his energy is everywhere in the air, soaring around and she's unable to prevent it, although it doesn't seem to bother him sufficiently to warrant his annoyance.

"I'm surprised how you even survived the war without knowing how to control your powers. I figured a catalyst that can't be used as one would be ditched somewhere in the battlefield to die, but here you are. I'm compelled to call it a miracle or you're a very lucky lady."

The oddest chill runs his spine, like a bad omen as she stares deeply at him, blinking in confusion like he'd spoken nonsense. Letting down all he's been holding, he asks earnestly:

"Why are you looking at me like this?"

Her scrawling is disconcerting, the pen stressing the paper with small squeaks. "I wasn't a catalyst during the war. I became one long after the war was over."

To check his reaction, she tilts her head to the side from behind the notebook. His eyes widening at the message written.

"What?"

She points at the text again, insinuating he should reread it. The blood flees his veins, he leans back onto the chair, his breath failing once. Rie became a catalyst recently?

He'd always hear from the underground that the creation of new catalysts never stopped due to demand, but to meet one in person… How many more people have become catalysts after the war? Even with his efforts together with the rebels, no matter how many "factories" they took now, new ones would always appear and they never stop.

His eyes narrow subtly, resting his forehead on the tip of his fingers, if he can get Rie to tell more information or what she remembers about it, they could be onto another hideout of the Empire's filth, but a question remains: Are they mass producing catalysts for monetary reasons only or is there another motive for the alarming increase in numbers lately? The TV's news pierce his ears, breaking his concentration:

[Important notice: Due to the attack of a group known as Shadow Riders, and the tragedy at the Domino main stadium, we got a pronouncement from the empire's representative, general Garius. According to his speech, Domino is officially under martial law until further notice. No one is allowed to enter Domino or leave, for the own safety of the citizens. I repeat, we are under martial law until those criminals are jailed and punished, and whoever helps in informing about possible suspects will be given monetary recognition. If you have any suspicions, you may call the number on the bottom of your screen…]

"What the fu-"

He bites his words, swallowing them, minding the lady in the room, fury seething in his eyes, his brows coming so close together they could make a bridge. They exchange a glance, the atmosphere is filled with uneasiness.

"That's all we need now! A martial law in the city."

He mumbles in spiteful sarcasm, rolling his eyes up to the ceiling, seeking patience. While most would see no connection between the incident in the central region and the fire in the east, he can discern this is retaliation from the Empire, to show they still have the upper hand and to give a warning that no one leaves unharmed after toying with imperial servants. They're about to manhunt him and quicker than expected.

If they really closed all borders, that can only mean they're straining all communications with the outside, and this could end badly for rebels, moreover what to do about Rie in this case?

No, he shouldn't give up so easily because of their threats. If they want to play this game, he'll move his pieces too, with his contacts in the underground, he's sure to find a way of sneaking people in or out at will and how to trespass the lockdown.

That same night,

Syrus wakes up at the repetitive sound of his cellphone vibrating loudly, deep purple lines under his eyes as he slams his hand on the chest of drawers at the side of the bed, until his glasses are found.

Sitting like a zombie rising from his tombstone, he takes the phone in an almost professional way, as if he'd done that many times in life before.

"Yes?" he yawns "Jaden? That's unexpected, I thought it was my brother," a runny voice comes from the other side of the line, waking him up fully "What?! You're in prison?! But how…?" the phone call gets muted as if the other side's time has ended "Jaden?! Jaden?!"

He looks at the number displayed on his screen just to be sure, it's not his friend's personal phone for sure. Taking a deep breath, he gets up from bed, adjusting his glasses, entering his work mood, trampling the way to his office, Jaden was sent to prison? But why? And how? With how careless he is, he just hopes nothing too serious, but this means he has his own share of tasks to do.

The lockdown, the visit of prince Atlas to the imperial palace, Jaden's arrest and the recruitment of the shadow riders happening all over the continent. It smells like a war, will they have to see it repeating again? He hopes not, but only time will tell that and in the meantime, they may need to rush their plans to dethrone the current Emperor.