Sometimes I think maybe the things I come up with for these stories are too out of left field. Too weird. Too ridiculous. And then I remember the sorts of things I've actually seen happen in anime, in YGO canon, and I stop thinking that.
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Seto knew what lucid dreaming was, at least conceptually, but it was so rare that he dreamed at all—much less remembered them—that he couldn't be sure if he'd ever experienced it before. All the same, he knew that his body was still sleeping, curled up on top of his covers, shielding his eyes from the dawn's light with a pillow; he knew this with the same certainty that he knew he was right-handed, or that his legs were attached to his hips.
And yet, though all of that was true, it was also true that he was walking across a crisp, vibrant, violently green field.
Seto walked among knights, dragons, imps, demons, elves, archers, wizards, centaurs, and every other mythical beast he could think up. As soon as he could think of something in his memory that wasn't here among the throng, it would pop up into his peripheral vision. He walked for what felt like hours and, not only did he never leave the field, he never even left the monsters' camps.
After the first eternity came another one, and after that another one, and so it went until Seto finally reached the foot of a steep hill, where banners were planted like trees. Each one bore a sigil that Seto recognized, but only in that way that told him he'd seen them before; he didn't know, and couldn't name, any of them in his current state. Whether this was because he actually didn't know what they were, or if it was entirely because he was asleep and would have been able to name every single one of them if he were awake, Seto had no way of knowing.
He didn't bother to guess.
Seto climbed that hill, climbed and climbed and climbed; once he finally passed the procession of banners, he finally understood where he was, and why it felt so familiar despite the understanding that he'd never been here before. He couldn't recognize a single swatch of landscape around him.
The Blue-Eyes White Dragon, in all her glory, sat there atop the hill, waiting for him.
It is good to see you, O child mine," said the dragon. "Do you know why you are here?"
Seto frowned; his brow furrowed. "I can only hazard a guess," he said. "I'm here because of whatever threat is closing in on Kisara's family. I'm here because she has entreated your help, and you need me to do something."
The dragon dipped her head solemnly, and somehow Seto knew she was pleased. "You hazard correctly," she intoned. "Turn, if you would. Stand here with me. Gaze down at the wide fields before us, and all who dwell upon it in this time." Seto did as he was directed, and for the first time truly comprehended what he'd just walked through.
The immensity of what he was seeing. Of where he was.
There had to be hundreds, thousands, of monsters all standing at attention beneath them.
"While you are here," the dragon said, "your body remains at rest, fully undisturbed, and so it shall be until we are finished here. I daresay you will wake more rested than you have ever been before." A low clicking sound came from the dragon's throat, which Seto took for laughter. She flipped a claw, and a heavy chair that seemed to Seto like a throne whisked into existence just behind him. "I would have you sit," the dragon said, "that you may watch those with the courage to answer your call. They will build an elite battalion, and they will return with you into the waking world."
"How will they do that, exactly?" Seto asked as he sat down.
The dragon made that clicking sound again; it was almost like purring. "How else?" she asked. "They will duel."
