The Phantom Duelists

by I Am The Prophet

After painstaking efforts, the Phantom Thieves were on the verge of getting their leader out of prison. Before the day of his release, Ren's forgotten past catches up to him. The next thing they know is that they are dragged into an interdimensional war decided by card games.

5. Reunion

The Phantom Duelists (Persona 5/Yu-Gi-Oh! Arc-V)

Chapter 5: Reunion

[~[~]

Ren stared blankly at the rough-hewn wood of the treehouse wall, the memories of the memorial a fresh, painful wound. He didn't know how long he'd been there. The vibrant colors of Sanctuary, once a symbol of hope and defiance, now seemed muted, drained of life. Each bird call, each rustle of leaves, was a cruel reminder of the world he'd lost, the lives extinguished by Academia's iron fist. The weight of his parents' sacrifice pressed down on him, an unbearable burden. Three years. Three years he'd spent lost, unaware of the horrors that had unfolded in his absence. Three years that could have been spent fighting alongside his friends, honoring their fallen comrades. Now, he was back, a ghost haunting the edges of a world forever altered by his absence.

The guilt gnawed at him. He should have been there. He should have been fighting alongside his friends, shouldering the burden of rebellion. Instead, he'd been adrift in another dimension, a helpless spectator to the tragedy that had befallen his world. The faces of his fallen comrades – Ryu, Fubuki, Manjome– flashed before his eyes, each one a searing reminder of his failure. He had sworn to protect them, to fight for a better future. And he had failed. Miserably.

Ren ran a hand through his hair, the rough wood of the treehouse wall digging into his palm. What was the point of coming back? He was a ghost, a relic of a past that no longer existed. His classmates were gone, his parents were gone. Sanctuary, once a beacon of hope, now felt like a tomb, a constant reminder of the lives lost. He should have stayed gone. He should have remained lost in the void, oblivious to the suffering he'd missed. Now, he was a prisoner of his guilt, haunted by the weight of his absence and the lives he failed to save.

The door creaked open, and Midori Hibiki, her face etched with concern, stepped into the room. "Ren?" she called softly, her voice gentle. "Dinner's ready in the canteen. Everyone's waiting." Ren didn't say anything. He knew this was a flimsy excuse and was already content on wasting away in solitude. It hadn't been long since he'd crumbled, the weight of his grief a heavy cloak draped over his shoulders. He didn't want to be around people at the moment.

Seeing that he wasn't moving, Midori gently crossed the room and sat beside him on the bed.

"It's alright," she said softly, her voice soothing. "You don't have to go if you don't want to. But maybe... maybe some company would do you some good."

Ren finally looked up at Midori, his eyes hollow. "Was it... foolish?" he whispered, his voice hoarse. "To think... to hope that maybe... maybe he would still be alive? After all this time? After everything?" Three years. Three years of silence. Three years of agonizing uncertainty. And now, the crushing weight of confirmation. His father, the man who had always been his rock, his unwavering support when his mother died, was gone. Vanished. Just like all his other classmates in the Rebellion.

Midori gently placed a hand on his shoulder, her gaze soft. "It's not foolish to hope, Ren," she said quietly. "Hope is what keeps us going, what drives us to fight for a better future. But hope, like a fragile flower, can easily be crushed. It's a bittersweet thing, that hope. It can lift you to the highest peaks of joy, but it can also plunge you into the deepest abysses of despair."

Ren didn't refute Midori's words. He knew the bitter truth of her statement all too well. In the other dimension, he and his friends, the Phantom Thieves, had dared to challenge the established order, to steal the hearts of corrupt adults and force them to confront their twisted desires. But their victory had been short-lived, their triumph abruptly shattered when they were falsely accused of murder. And then, there was Yaldaboath, the god of control, who had erased them from existence, their memories, their very being, wiped clean from the fabric of reality. He had escaped that oblivion, his memories miraculously returning, only to be met with this crushing disappointment, this agonizing confirmation of his worst fears.

"Do you remember Chronos de Medici, Ren?" Midori asked softly, her gaze fixed on the distant horizon. "The former head of Obelisk Blue?"

Ren nodded slowly, the memory of the stern, imposing figure of the Obelisk Blue dorm head flickering through his mind. He hadn't liked Chronos much back then. Obelisk Blue, with their arrogant airs and unwavering belief in their superiority, had always looked down on Osiris Red. But beneath the gruff exterior, Ren knew Chronos cared deeply for his students. He remembered the final stand at Academia, the chaos, and the fear, the Professor's chilling orders echoing through the halls. Chronos, his face grim but resolute, had stood against the tide, shielding the fleeing students with his own body.

"He told us," Ren murmured, the memory vivid in his mind. "He told us to watch... to learn from their mistakes. To never let something like this happen again." He recalled Chronos's final words, his voice booming with defiance,

"This is your graduation test, Obelisk Blue. Overthrow Academia. And for the student who brings down that tyrant... I offer a special commendation."

Chronos had fallen, a martyr to his ideals, but his sacrifice had not been in vain. It had ignited the spark of rebellion, a beacon of defiance against the tyranny of Academia. And though the cost had been immense, the fight continued, fueled by the memory of their fallen mentor.

"What can the living do for the dead, Ren?" Midori asked, her voice heavy with the weight of shared grief. "We lost so many before the Rebellion even began – brilliant minds, promising talents, all extinguished by the Professor's ambition. Chronos... and his students... paid the ultimate price to ensure the escape of others. Your father... he sacrificed himself to guarantee the success of Operation Exodus. We will never forget them, never allow their sacrifices to be in vain."

"But three years... three years we've been fighting," Midori continued, her voice gaining strength. "Clandestine, yes. Hidden in the shadows. But we haven't stopped. Academia believes the Rebellion is broken, crushed. We use that to our advantage. We smuggle escaping duelists and duel soldiers to Sanctuary and sabotage their war machine whenever possible. We fight, Ren. We fight for them. For everything they sacrificed. For the future, they dreamed of."

"It wouldn't be right," Midori concluded, her gaze unwavering, "to let their deaths be meaningless. We carry their will, their hopes, their dreams. We fight for a world where their sacrifices were not in vain."

Ren sat in silence, absorbing Midori's words. He thought back to his journey, and the countless obstacles he and his friends had overcome. Framed for murder, erased from existence, their reality rewritten by their deepest desires – they had faced impossible odds and still found a way to fight back. They had learned that even when the world seemed to conspire against them, hope remained. And now, here he was, facing a different kind of despair, a loss that cut deeper than any enemy they had ever faced. But Midori's words resonated with him. They were right. They had to carry on, not just for themselves, but for those who had fallen before them, for the future they had all fought for.

A flicker of resolve ignited within him. He remembered the despair that had consumed him during the Palace of the Collective Unconscious, the crushing weight of Maruki's reality, where everyone's deepest desires were fulfilled, but at the cost of their free will. He had faced that despair and had fought against the comforting illusion, for the sake of his friends, for the sake of their freedom. He would do the same now. He would face the pain, the grief, the crushing weight of his losses. He would honor the memories of his fallen comrades by living, by fighting, by never giving up on the hope of a better future, a future where their sacrifices would not be in vain.

"Thank you, Midori-sensei," Ren said, his voice still rough, but with a newfound resolve. "Your words... they mean a lot to me."

Midori smiled gently, relief washing over her. "I'm glad," she replied, her voice soft. "You shouldn't carry this burden alone, Ren. We're all in this together." She paused, then offered, "Are you ready to go to the canteen now? I'm sure everyone's worried about you."

Ren nodded, a small smile gracing his lips. "I think I am," he said, slowly getting to his feet. "Thank you again, Midori-sensei."

Midori stood up as well, offering him a hand. "Come on then," she said warmly. "Let's go see what delicious food they've prepared for us."

[~]

The Canteen was a bustling hub of activity, a vibrant tapestry of life woven amongst the branches of a massive banyan tree. The tables and benches were constructed from salvaged wood and woven vines, the air thick with the aroma of exotic spices and sizzling meats. Night had fallen so torches were lit, dappling the makeshift floor in a kaleidoscope of light and shadow. Laughter and lively conversation filled the air, a testament to the resilience of the human spirit, a defiant celebration of life in the face of adversity.

The dinner spread was a feast for the senses. Platters overflowing with grilled fish, succulent mangoes, and juicy pineapples adorned the tables. Bowls brimming with fragrant rice, steaming bowls of curries, and vibrant salads completed the meal. The air was alive with the sound of clinking plates, the murmur of conversation, and the joyful chatter of children. It was a simple meal, but it was a testament to the resourcefulness and resilience of the Sanctuary community, a reminder that even in the face of adversity, life could still be beautiful.

Ren collected a plate and filled it with a delicious array of food. He scanned the bustling canteen, searching for a familiar face. He spotted a table tucked away in the shade of a large banyan root, where Johan Anderson, Amon Garam, Jim Crocodile Cook, and Austin O'Brien were already deep in conversation. A wave of relief washed over him at the sight of his old classmates. He made his way towards them, a small smile gracing his lips.

"Ren!" Johan exclaimed, his face splitting into a wide grin. "About time you joined us! We were starting to think you'd gone off to sulk in a cave somewhere."

"Wouldn't dream of it," Ren chuckled, shaking his head.

Jim chuckled as well, "Don't mind Gem Boy, he's just worried you'd forgotten how to enjoy a good meal."

Austin, ever the quiet observer, simply nodded in greeting, while Amon, ever the pragmatist, simply stated, "The more the merrier. Now eat, we've got much to discuss."

Ren slid into an empty chair beside Amon. He had a wry grin as he said, "I wouldn't want to miss out on all this delicious food." He piled his plate high with the colorful array of dishes, then took a large bite of the grilled fish.

"You sure you're alright, Ren?" Johan asked, his gaze concerned. "You've been a bit… distant lately."

Ren paused, chewing thoughtfully. "I'm fine," he assured them, though a hint of melancholy lingered in his voice. "Just… dealing with some things."

Jim placed a comforting hand on Ren's shoulder. "We know," he said quietly. "Losing your parents… it's not something you just get over. If it helps, I didn't take it well either. I gave up on dueling for a long time before I regained the courage to pick up my deck."

Ren nodded, "I know. But I'm not going to let it consume me. I have to… I have to carry on. For them."

"You're right," Johan agreed, nodding. "We didn't spend the last three years giving Academia grief for nothing. We're gonna finish what we started, Ren. For everyone who couldn't be here today."

Amon grunted in agreement. "Chronos wouldn't want us wallowing in self-pity. He'd be furious if we let grief cripple us."

Austin, ever the pragmatist, added, "Besides, we've got a war to win. And we need all hands on deck."

Ren felt a surge of warmth spread through him. He wasn't alone. He had his friends, his comrades, his family. They would fight, they would endure, and they would prevail. For themselves, for their fallen comrades, and the future, they had all sworn to protect.

"Speaking of which," Amon said, his gaze fixed on the remnants of his meal, "Remember that old Interdimensional Transporter back at the old Rebel HQ? The one we used for Operation Exodus?"

A hush fell over the table. The Interdimensional Transporter. A symbol of both hope and despair. It had been instrumental in saving countless lives, but it was also a constant reminder of the sacrifices made to ensure its operation.

"If it's still functional," Amon continued, his voice low, "we could salvage the parts. Use them to build a new transporter here, in Sanctuary. Imagine the possibilities. We could establish contact with the other dimensions, find allies, maybe even get reinforcements."

The idea sent a jolt of excitement through Ren. A new Interdimensional Transporter. The possibilities were staggering.

"It's worth looking into," Johan agreed, his eyes gleaming with anticipation. "We could finally reach out, and make contact with our long-lost comrades who might be willing to help us in our fight."

Jim, however, sounded cautious. "But what if it's damaged? What if it's beyond repair?"

"We won't know until we check," Amon insisted. "Besides, even if it's not fully operational, we might be able to salvage some of the technology. Learn from it. Improve upon it."

The idea of rebuilding the Interdimensional Transporter, of reaching out beyond the confines of their dimension, filled Ren with a renewed sense of purpose. The fight against Academia was far from over, but with this new possibility, the tide might finally be turning in their favor.

"It's possible," Ren mused, "I mean, the Portable Interdimensional Transporter was still functioning when I used it to get back here. Though, it probably hasn't been maintained in years." He paused, his face paling. "Wait a minute…"

A wave of dread washed over him. "The Portable Interdimensional Transporter… I left it in the other dimension!"

The room fell silent. The jovial atmosphere evaporated, replaced by a chilling silence.

"Oh no," Johan breathed, his face pale. "Anyone could find it. Anyone could… activate it."

"And get stuck in Fusion," Amon finished grimly. "Stuck in a dimension they don't belong in."

Ren felt a surge of panic. He should have thought of that. He should have taken it with him. But how could he? The device was active during the transfer.

"It's not your fault, Ren," Midori said, her voice calm and soothing. "There was no way you could have taken it with you while it was active."

"But still…" Ren muttered, his gaze fixed on the ground. "What if someone gets hurt? What if they get lost?"

Jim placed a comforting hand on his shoulder. "We'll find a way to deal with it, Ren. We always do."

Just as Jim's words offered a sliver of reassurance, a young man came running towards their table, his face flushed with excitement. It took Ren a minute to recognize Daichi Misawa. His black hair was neatly arranged with a large portion swept back and slightly to the left, his usual Ra Yellow uniform slightly disheveled from his hurried run, stood panting, his eyes wide with a mixture of excitement and apprehension.

"Midori-sensei!" he exclaimed, skidding to a halt. "Dr. Zweinstein just detected another dimensional energy signature at the old Rebel HQ It's the same one that coincided with Ren's return from Fusion!"

A chilling silence descended upon the table. Someone had found the Portable Interdimensional Transporter. Someone was now stranded in Fusion.

Midori's face hardened. "Everyone, to the submarine! Now!" she barked, her voice sharp with urgency. "We need to get back to the old Rebel HQ immediately. Daichi, you come with us. Johan, you and Amon, alert the others. We need to find out who activated the Transporter and how to get them back."

A wave of adrenaline surged through Ren. This was no time for hesitation. They had to find a way to help whoever was stranded in Fusion, and they had to secure the Interdimensional Transporter before anyone else could use it. If they could detect it, what are the chances that Academia would too?

[~]

The swirling vortex of colors finally subsided, and the Phantom Thieves stumbled out of the portal, disoriented and gasping for breath. Dust motes danced in the single shaft of moonlight piercing through the grimy windows of the abandoned transporter room. Cobwebs draped themselves across the rusted machinery, and the air was thick with the smell of damp earth and forgotten memories. Years of neglect had taken their toll on the once-vibrant control room, leaving behind an eerie silence broken only by their ragged breaths.

The Phantom Thieves, still reeling from the disorienting journey, took a tentative step forward. The floor beneath them groaned ominously, sending a tremor through the room. Dust rained down from the ceiling as the ancient machinery shuddered, groaning and protesting under their unexpected weight. The once-powerful marvel of technology, an Interdimensional Transporter they assume, appeared to be on the verge of collapse in this decaying facility, its metallic bones rattling ominously.

Makoto's sharp eyes scanned the crumbling machinery, a wave of panic washing over her. "Get off! Now!" she yelled, her voice echoing through the dilapidated room. They barely managed to scramble off the unstable platform before the entire machine groaned and buckled, collapsing into a heap of twisted metal and shattered glass. Dust rained down from the ceiling, choking the air as the once-mighty transporter succumbed to the ravages of time and neglect.

Ryuji stared at the wreckage, his jaw slack. "No way... it's busted."

Ann echoed his disbelief, "But... how? We just got here!"

Yusuke, ever the artist, saw beauty in the unexpected. "Such a poignant metaphor for the fragility of existence," he mused, "even the most powerful creations crumble under the weight of time and neglect."

Makoto glared at him and cut through the poetic musings. "This is bad, Yusuke. This is bad. How are we supposed to get back?"

Futaba scanned the wreckage with a worried frown. "I don't know... maybe there are some salvageable parts? Some kind of backup system?"

Morgana paced around the debris, "What if we're stuck here forever? What if we can never go home?"

Haru tried to remain calm. "I'm sure we'll figure something out. We always do. It's not like it's the end of the world, remember?"

Sumire took a deep breath, trying to shake off the despair that threatened to consume them. "We can't let this defeat us," she declared, her voice firm. "We came here to find Ren. We can't let the destruction of the Transporter stop us." She paused, her gaze sweeping across the debris-strewn room, "And it's practically pitch black in here. If anyone has a flashlight, now's the time to use it."

Following Sumire's suggestion, the Phantom Thieves fumbled in their pockets or bags and pulled out their flashlights. One by one, beams of light pierced the darkness, illuminating the dusty room and revealing the extent of the damage. The wreckage of the Interdimensional Transporter lay scattered across the floor, a stark reminder of their predicament.

Ryuji couldn't help but let out a low whistle. "This place... it's like something out of a horror movie." The room, with its peeling paint, cobwebs, and the ghostly glow of their flashlights, had an unsettling atmosphere.

Ann shuddered, "It gives me the creeps. I hope we don't encounter any… otherworldly creatures down here."

Yusuke, ever the artist, found a strange beauty in the decay. "The juxtaposition of advanced technology and utter neglect is quite… poignant."

Makoto, ever the pragmatist, cut through the observations. "We need to stay focused. Let's look around. See if we can find any clues, any information that might help us." She gestured towards the debris-strewn room, "Maybe there's a control panel, a logbook, anything that might give us an idea of what went wrong."

The Phantom Thieves spurred into action, began to cautiously explore the room, their flashlights illuminating the decaying machinery, the dust-covered consoles, and the cryptic symbols etched onto the walls.

The Phantom Thieves cautiously exited the transporter room, the air thick with the musty scent of disuse. The hallway was long and dimly lit, dust motes dancing in the single shaft of moonlight filtering through a grimy window at the end. As they ventured further, Ryuji let out a surprised grunt. "Hey look!" he exclaimed, crouching down to examine something on the floor. "Duel Monster cards! Man, these things are ancient." The cards were faded, the vibrant colors dulled by years of neglect, scattered across the floor as if someone had been playing a game and then abruptly abandoned it.

Makoto knelt beside Ryuji, examining the cards with a frown. "These look… old. Like they've been here for a very long time." She picked up a card, the image of the Blue-Eyes White Dragon barely discernible through the grime. "This place… it feels like time itself has stopped here." The hallway, with its peeling paint and the ghostly glow of their flashlights, seemed to whisper secrets of a forgotten past, a time when life pulsed through these corridors, a time that had long since faded into oblivion.

Haru, ever the nature enthusiast, moved towards the window, her curiosity piqued. "Look!" she exclaimed, "We're in some kind of… high-rise building?"

Futaba, her eyes wide with a mixture of excitement and apprehension, peered out the window. "Whoa, this view is… intense. Looks like some kind of island resort. But… man, that's a lot of… uh… collateral damage down there." The once-pristine resort was now a scarred landscape, with crumbling buildings, overturned vehicles, and what appeared to be the remnants of a fierce battle scattered across the island. "Reminds me of those post-apocalyptic games where the environment is just… wrecked."

"It looks like a warzone," Makoto observed, her expression grim. "Who would have thought that a place like this could become a battlefield?"

Nobody said a word as they continued down the hallway, an eerie silence descended upon the Phantom Thieves. It felt as if they were walking through a massive graveyard, the air thick with the weight of forgotten memories and unspoken tragedies. Every creak of the floorboards, every rustle of a loose cable, sent shivers down their spines as if they were disturbing the slumber of long-dead spirits. What could've been a vibrant resort is now a desolate wasteland.

The Phantom Thieves exchanged uneasy glances. What could have possibly happened to this once-idyllic resort? Had it been caught in the crossfire of some forgotten conflict? Was it a victim of some long-forgotten experiment gone wrong? The questions hung heavy in the air, unanswered and unsettling. The silence that had fallen over the resort was deafening, a chilling reminder of the tragedies that had unfolded within its walls, leaving behind a haunting legacy of desolation and despair.

Navigating through the ruined resort proved to be a perilous endeavor. Fallen ceilings blocked their path, forcing them to crawl through narrow passages or climb over treacherous debris. Stairs had been rendered inaccessible, either crumbling underfoot or blocked by fallen masonry. The elevators, naturally, were inoperable, leaving them to navigate the labyrinthine structure on foot. With a mixture of caution and agility, they carefully picked their way through the wreckage, their flashlights illuminating the treacherous path ahead.

Ryuji, ever the impulsive one, occasionally attempted to take shortcuts, only to be scolded by Makoto for his recklessness. "Slow down, Ryuji!" she'd chide, "We don't want to end up as another casualty of this place."

Yusuke, ever the observant one, pointed out potential hazards, "Be wary of that section, Ryuji. The ceiling looks particularly unstable."

"Any luck with the emergency exits, Futaba?" Makoto inquired, her voice laced with concern. Futaba had been trying to open a red door.

"Nothing so far," Futaba replied, her brow furrowed. "Seems like the fire escapes are either blocked or damaged beyond repair."

The Phantom Thieves pressed on, their determination unwavering despite the growing sense of unease that clung to them like a shroud. They had to find a way out of this decaying resort, to find Ren, and if possible uncover the truth behind this forgotten tragedy.

After navigating past the hazardous obstacles, the Phantom Thieves stumbled upon what they assumed to be an Operations Center. Big screens hung from the ceiling, some of them fallen to the floor shattered. Computer hardware sat on rows of tables unused and gathering dust. Yet, despite the whole place being abandoned, it was clear that somebody had been here recently. Several computer monitors displayed active screen savers, and the soft hum of cooling fans filled the room, a stark contrast to the otherwise eerie silence.

The Phantom Thieves exchanged uneasy glances as they surveyed the room. "Despite the dust," Makoto observed, "it looks like someone's been here recently."

Ryuji scoffed, "Maybe ghosts are into old computer games."

"Don't even joke about that!" Makoto snapped. Her anger is a little laced with fear.

"More likely someone's been using this place as a hideout," Ann suggested, her eyes scanning the room for any signs of recent activity.

Futaba, her eyes gleaming with excitement, rushed towards the bank of computer monitors. "Hold on!" she exclaimed, her fingers already dancing across the keyboard. "These are still powered on! And look, they're running screen savers!"

She attempted to access one of the computers but was met with the familiar password prompt. "Alright," she muttered, "time for some delicate hacking. Brute force would be way too much like using a hammer." Futaba began to work her magic, her fingers flying across the keyboard as she attempted to bypass the security measures without triggering any alarms.

"I wonder if Ren was here," Yusuke mused, his eyes tracing the lines of a particularly intricate piece of machinery. "Perhaps he stumbled upon this place and tried to use it to contact someone."

"That's… possible," Makoto admitted, a flicker of hope igniting within her. She noticed radio equipment and walked over to it. "Maybe he was trying to get a message out."

"But why wouldn't he leave a message for us?" Ryuji questioned, his brow furrowed. "He knows we'd be worried."

Futaba, mid-hack, paused and looked up. "Maybe he couldn't. Maybe because he wasn't expecting anyone to follow him. You heard what he said in the video. I'm sorry everyone…this isn't goodbye."

A wave of dread washed over the Phantom Thieves. The possibility that Ren was in danger, trapped in this desolate place, was a terrifying prospect. They had come to this dimension to find him, to bring him home, but now, they were beginning to fear the worst.

"We need to find him," Sumire declared, her voice resolute. "We need to find out what happened here, and we need to find Ren."

The Phantom Thieves, their resolve renewed, continued their search, their hearts heavy with a mixture of hope and apprehension. They were determined to find Ren and to bring him home, no matter what it took.

Sumire, her fingers flying across the keyboard, couldn't help but think of Ren. Why had he disappeared? Why had he come to this dimension in the first place? Was he searching for something? Was he trying to find a way back to their world? Or was he simply lost, adrift in a sea of uncertainty, just like they were? The more she delved into the mysteries of this forgotten resort, the more questions arose, each one more unsettling than the last. The fate of their friend, her boyfriend, hung precariously in the balance.

"Got it!" Futaba exclaimed, a triumphant grin spreading across her face. "I'm in!" The others crowded around, their faces a mixture of anticipation and apprehension. "Alright, let's see what juicy secrets this computer is hiding." Futaba began navigating the system, her fingers flying across the keyboard.

"Any luck?" Makoto asked, her voice laced with concern.

"Just a moment," Futaba replied, her eyes glued to the screen. "There's… a lot of encrypted files, but I think I found something interesting." She clicked on a file labeled "Operation Exodus," her brow furrowing.

"Operation Exodus?"

"Operation Exodus?" Makoto asked, her voice a low whisper as she read over Futaba's shoulder. "This operation is to insert teams into the other three dimensions in an attempt to prepare them for an invasion force from Academia?"

Futaba nodded. "That's the one. Looks like this facility was involved somehow." She scrolled through the file, her eyes widening with each passing line. "This… this is huge. It appears this resort was meant to be just a resort. Then it was converted into a hidden base of operations for an organization called the Rebellion."

The Phantom Thieves exchanged stunned glances. This discovery was more than just a breakthrough; it was a seismic shift in their understanding of the situation. The resort, once a symbol of leisure and relaxation, was now revealed to be a clandestine hub of resistance against Academia. But the question as to why they are resisting eluded them.

"There's also… a video file," Futaba announced, her voice trembling slightly. "It's… it's from someone named Tetsurō Amamiya."

A wave of silence washed over the room when they heard those words. The video began to play, and the image of a man with kind eyes and a weary expression filled the screen. "My name is Tetsurō Amamiya," the man began, his voice rough with exhaustion, "and I'm not sure if this message will ever reach its intended destination."

Someone let out a small gasp, and nobody was sure who did it. They noticed that he shared the same last name as Ren. Could this be his father, speaking from the past, from the heart of the conflict?

"HQ has fallen," his father continued, his voice heavy with grief. "Academia has breached our defenses. We've suffered heavy losses. But… Operation Exodus is a success. They're safe. There's nothing Academia can do to stop it now."

Some of the Phantom Thieves could fear tears welling up in their eyes. They could hear the exhaustion in his father's voice. "All remaining forces are ordered to evacuate the island," his father continued his voice firm despite the evident pain. "This is our last stand. We will not surrender. We will fight to the very end."

The video flickered, the image of his father growing increasingly distorted. "Ren," his father said, his voice filled with love and pride, "If you are seeing or hearing this message…I'm sorry I lied. What kind of father would I be if I outlived you? Be strong. Be brave. Carry on the fight. Never give up hope." The image flickered again, and then the screen went black.

The room fell into a stunned silence as the Phantom Thieves processed the information. "That… that was Ren's father, wasn't it?" Sumire whispered, her voice trembling.

Makoto stared at the screen, her face pale. "Yes…it was."

A wave of emotions washed over the group: grief, anger, and a newfound determination. "He was so brave," Ann said, her voice choked with emotion. "Fighting until the very end."

Yusuke murmured," A testament to the human spirit, facing adversity with unwavering courage."

Ryuji, his fist clenched, growled, "Those Academia bastards…I don't know who they are, but now I'm pissed at them!"

Futaba, her eyes brimming with tears, reached out and placed a hand on the monitor. She knew the pain of losing a parent. Unconsciously, she clicked the mouse. The computer displayed a CCTV feed of the building. Various windows are displayed in front of them, showing different sections. Some of them are pitch black, meaning that the camera is out of commission. Others remain functional despite years of unuse. But one window caught their attention.

"Hey! It's Ren!"

Their earlier depression was forgotten, they focused on the screen. Futaba brought up the window. They watched as Ren operated some kind of radio. The audio picked up his voice.

"To any surviving Rebels this is Ace, can you hear me?"

[~]

The submarine, a sleek, silver vessel, sliced through the water like a knife, its engines roaring as it raced toward the old Rebel HQ. Inside, Ren, Johan, Amon, Jim, Austin, and Daichi sat tensely, their faces grim. The news of the dimensional energy signature had sent shockwaves through them, a chilling reminder of the fragility of their world and the ever-present threat that loomed over them. Ren, his mind reeling from the unexpected encounter with his father's message, gripped the edge of his seat, his knuckles white. He had to get to the old Rebel HQ, to understand what had happened, to find out who had activated the Transporter, and to ensure the safety of whoever was now stranded in their dimension.

"Hey, Ren," Johan said, his voice gentle, "it's not your fault about the Transporter. It's not like those scientists who built the thing included a handy 'recall' function for interdimensional travel." He chuckled, a nervous sound. "Besides, who would have thought someone would find it and use it?"

Ren managed a weak smile. Johan was right. It wasn't his fault. But the guilt still lingered, a heavy weight on his chest. He had been careless, and reckless. And now, someone else was paying the price for his oversight.

"In hindsight," Amon admitted, his brow furrowed, "we probably should have included a recall function. But we were under a lot of pressure back then. Academia was breathing down our necks, the entire operation was rushed. We were just trying to get as many people as possible to ensure that Operation Exodus was a success."

"What's done is done," Austin declared his voice firm. "What matters now is our mission. Unknown individuals, likely civilians, have activated the Portable Interdimensional Transporter and traveled to our dimension. Since their dimension isn't one of the Four, they probably stumbled upon it and curiosity got the better of them. We need to get back to the Old Rebel HQ, locate these individuals, and get them back to their world as quickly as possible. And we need to do it before Academia catches wind of this."

Ren furrowed his brow. "Can Academia detect this kind of dimensional energy shift?"

Austin nodded grimly. "They have those… those crystal things in the sky, cameras that monitor everything. One could be dismissed as a glitch, a minor anomaly. But two? I wouldn't put it past the Professor to investigate."

The weight of their mission suddenly felt heavier. They needed to be quick, to be discreet. Every second that passed increased the risk of Academia discovering their presence and potentially intercepting them.

A wave of unspoken urgency swept through the submarine. They checked their Duel Disks, ensuring their decks were properly loaded and ready for action. Ren, his mind a whirlwind of emotions, focused on his deck, each card a reminder of his resolve. He would not let his father's sacrifice be in vain. He would protect those who had been thrust into this dangerous situation, he would bring them home safely, and he would ensure that Academia never threatened the peace of their world.

Suddenly, a voice crackled through the intercom. "All hands on deck! Prepare for surface operations. We're nearing the old Rebel HQ." A wave of anticipation washed over the submarine. The moment of truth was finally upon them. They were about to face the unknown, to confront the consequences of their actions, and to fulfill their duty to those who had been thrust into this precarious situation.

The submarine began its ascent, the pressure gradually decreasing as it rose towards the surface. The hum of the engines softened, replaced by the rhythmic gurgling of water displaced by the rising vessel. A sense of anticipation, tinged with apprehension, gripped the passengers. They could almost feel the weight of the ocean pressing down on them, slowly diminishing as they neared the surface. Finally, with a forceful surge, the submarine broke through the surface, moonlight flooding the control room.

The hatch hissed open, and a shaft of sunlight pierced the surface of the water, illuminating the choppy waves. Ren, Austin, Jim, and Johan, their faces grim, emerged from the submarine, their eyes scanning the horizon. Amon and Daichi remained behind in the control room, providing technical support and monitoring for any potential threats. The old Rebel HQ, a ghostly silhouette against the horizon, loomed large in the distance, a silent sentinel of the past, a beacon of hope in the face of uncertainty.

The four duelists moved swiftly across the deck, their boots crunching on the gravel as they made their way toward the entrance to the old Rebel HQ. The air was thick with the scent of salt and seaweed, the sound of the waves crashing against the shore a constant reminder of the vastness of the ocean that surrounded them. The old facility, once a bustling hub of resistance, now stood as a silent testament to the struggles of the past, its weathered walls bearing the scars of time and conflict.

As they approached the entrance, a sense of foreboding washed over them. The once-imposing structure now appeared dilapidated, its windows shattered, its paint peeling. Weeds sprouted from the cracks in the concrete, and a ghostly silence hung heavy in the air.

Ren, his heart pounding in his chest, reached out and touched the cold, metallic surface of the entrance door. It was heavy, rusted, and difficult to open, but with a concerted effort, they managed to swing it open, revealing the darkness beyond.

The interior of the facility was dark and damp, the air thick with the smell of dust and decay. The once-vibrant control room, now a ghostly shell of its former self, was shrouded in an eerie silence, the only sound the echo of their footsteps.

The four rebels, their senses heightened, cautiously ventured deeper into the facility, their flashlights illuminating the decaying corridors, their eyes searching for any sign of life, any trace of the individuals who had been drawn into this dimension.

The air within the facility was thick with dust and the scent of decay, each step echoing through the long-abandoned corridors. Ren, Johan, Austin, and Jim moved cautiously, their flashlights illuminating the path ahead. They searched every room, every nook and cranny, but found nothing. The facility, once a bustling hub of activity, now felt like a ghost town, a monument to a forgotten past.

Despair began to creep in. Had they been too late? Had the civilians already fallen victim to the dangers of this forgotten dimension? Or had they found a way to survive on their own? The silence that permeated the facility was deafening, a constant reminder of the lives lost in the final days of the rebellion.

They continued their search, their determination unwavering. They had to find these people, to bring them home safely. The fate of these innocent civilians, and perhaps the fate of both dimensions, now rested on their shoulders. They would not let them down.

Suddenly, Amon's voice crackled through their Duel Disks, "Hey guys, just a heads up. I almost forgot to mention, if it's at all possible, try to salvage any usable parts from the old Transporter. We can't exactly haul the whole thing back to Sanctuary, but any advanced components could be invaluable for repairs or even for developing a new Transporter."

Ren nodded in agreement. "Good idea, Amon. We'll keep an eye out for anything that might be useful."

Johan chuckled. "Yeah, maybe we can finally figure out how that thing works. It's been bugging me for years."

Austin, ever the pragmatist, added, "We need to be cautious, Johan. We don't want to get sidetracked. Our primary objective is to find the civilians and get them back to their world safely."

"Understood," Johan replied, "But if we have the opportunity to salvage some valuable technology while we're at it, then we should take it."

As they continued their exploration, they came across a bank of elevators. The doors were rusted shut, the control panel a relic of a bygone era. "Looks like these are out of commission," Jim observed, disappointment coloring his voice.

"Not necessarily," Austin countered, pulling a pair of grappling hooks and a rope ascender from his backpack. "We can always take the scenic route." He gestured towards the elevator shaft. "With these, we should be able to climb to the upper floors."

Johan whistled appreciatively. "You always think of everything, Austin." He then turned to Ren and asked, "You okay with some light climbing, Ren?"

Ren, a surge of adrenaline coursing through him, nodded. "Let's do this."

"Alright, let's get this show on the road," Austin declared, distributing rope ascenders to each member of the team. "Here, one for each of you." With a practiced move, he activated his Duel Disk, transforming it into a powerful gun. Aiming carefully, he fired a grappling hook up each of the elevator shafts, the metal projectiles whistling through the air before embedding themselves firmly into the ceiling. The ropes, taut and strong, dangled invitingly before them, a lifeline into the unknown.

"Alright, everyone remember what floor the Transporter Room was on?" Austin asked, his voice firm.

"Floor 37," Ren replied immediately.

"Correct," Austin confirmed. "We're going to search each floor systematically. If any of you catch sight of the civilians, report immediately. And," he added with a mischievous glint in his eye, "for the sake of making the R boys at Sanctuary happy if any of you can make it to the Transporter Room, feel free to see what parts you can salvage. But remember, the priority is finding those civilians."

With that, the team began their ascent, each member securing their ascenders to the ropes and slowly pulling themselves upwards. The air grew thinner as they climbed higher, the silence broken only by the rhythmic creaking of the ropes and the sound of their labored breathing.

Ren, his eyes fixed on the dim light filtering through the grimy windows high above, felt a surge of determination. He would find these civilians, he would bring them home, and he would honor the memory of his father by ensuring that the sacrifices made during Operation Exodus were not in vain.

The climb was arduous, but they persevered, their resolve unwavering. One floor at a time, they ascended through the decaying structure, their flashlights illuminating the darkness, their eyes searching for any sign of life, any trace of the individuals who had been drawn into this forgotten dimension.

The first few floors were eerily quiet. Dust motes danced in the shafts of moonlight filtering through the grimy windows, illuminating the decaying furniture and the remnants of forgotten lives. Empty offices, deserted laboratories, and abandoned cafeterias stretched out before them, each room a silent testament to the passage of time. They found no signs of struggle, no signs of habitation, only the echoes of a past that had long since faded into oblivion.

Disappointment began to set in. Had they been wrong? Had the civilians already moved on, and found another way out of this dimension? Or were they still trapped somewhere within this decaying structure, lost and forgotten? The silence that permeated the floors was deafening, a constant reminder of the uncertainty that hung heavy in the air.

Ren, his heart heavy with worry, continued his search, his eyes scanning every corner of the room, every shadow that flickered in the dim light. He had to find them, he had to bring them home. The fate of these innocent civilians rested on their shoulders, and he would not let them down.

As they ascended higher, the air grew thinner, the temperature dropping noticeably. The silence, however, remained unbroken, a constant companion on their perilous journey.

"Nothing on this floor," Jim reported, his voice echoing through the empty corridor. "Just another dusty office."

"Same here," Johan chimed in from a few rooms down. "Looks like someone was researching on… something. But no sign of anyone being here recently."

Ren, searching a dimly lit laboratory, felt a pang of anxiety. "This is taking longer than expected. Are you sure we're on the right track?"

Austin replied, "We're covering the ground. It's a big building. We just need to be patient and thorough."

They heard the sound of grumbling. It came from Karen, whom Jim brought to help with their search. Jim insists that being a crocodile gives her a very good sense of smell. She can detect prey that's either on land or in water, from far away. So far, she hasn't caught a whiff yet.

"Sorry about that, Karen's patience is wearing thin," Jim grumbled from somewhere in the distance. "She's starting to think this whole thing was a waste of time."

"Don't be so pessimistic, Karen," Johan chided gently. "We'll find them. We have to."

The silence that followed was heavy and oppressive. The search was proving to be more difficult than they had anticipated. The civilians, if they were even still here, seemed to have vanished without a trace.

But the Rebels, despite their growing apprehension, refused to give up. They pressed on, their determination unwavering, their flashlights illuminating the darkness, their eyes searching for any sign of life, any clue that would lead them to the missing civilians.

Ren, feeling a growing sense of frustration, decided to explore a different corridor, hoping to cover more ground. He moved further away from the others, his footsteps echoing through the deserted hallways. Suddenly, a faint sound reached his ears – a soft whimper, followed by a muffled cough.

Intrigued, Ren cautiously moved toward the source of the sound, his heart pounding in his chest. "Hello?" he called out softly, his voice echoing through the empty corridor. "Is anyone there?" He paused, listening intently, but the sound was gone.

He took a few hesitant steps forward, his flashlight beam dancing across the dusty walls. "If you're there," he called out again, his voice a little louder this time, "we're here to help. We won't hurt you."

As he spoke, a small cat-like figure emerged from the shadows, their eyes wide with surprise. Ren could feel himself surprised as well. It had been a couple of weeks since he'd been in the Youth Detention Center, but he recognized one of his friends when he saw him.

"Joker! It is you!" Morgana exclaimed, his filled with relief. Ren didn't get a chance to respond as Morgana bounded towards him and climbed up his leg. Morgana's blue eyes bore into his filled with joy.

Ren stared at his friend, his mind reeling. "Morgana? How… how did you get here?"

Morgana, his eyes sparkling with mischief, grinned. "Let's just say your disappearance was a little too intriguing for us to ignore."

"How…how did you activate the Transporter?" Ren asked, his mind still reeling, but then realized something Morgana said. "Wait… did you say 'Us'? What did you mean by that?"

Before Morgana could elaborate, Austin's voice crackled through his Duel Disk, "Everyone, I think I found the civilians. They're in the Operations Center. But…they might be a little…hostile."

Ren's eyes widened. "Hostile? What do you mean?"

"They seem to think that I was with Academia," Austin explained, his tone sounding offended at the suggestion. "But Ren, they claim to know you. Could you come up here?"

Ren exchanged a look with Morgana. "Yeah, I can come up," he said with a small smile. "If they are who I think they are, then we have nothing to worry about. They're friends of mine. I'll be right there Austin."

With a renewed sense of purpose, Ren and Morgana rushed towards the Operations Center, his heart pounding with excitement and apprehension. They were not just searching for lost civilians; they were about to reunite with their friends.

[~]

"See! You heard him! We're friends of his!"

Ryuji stammered that out at the end of the barrel of Austin's gun. Behind him stood the rest of the Phantom Thieves.

While they were watching the footage of Ren using the radio, in which he fell asleep at some point, Futaba picked up movement on the monitors. Assuming that they might be in Academia, they hid after turning off the lights.

They waited with bated breath, unsure of what to do. Morgana decided to go ahead and scout out for these guys. He didn't come back for a long time.

To say that it didn't go well would be an understatement. The tension in the room was palpable. Austin, his finger still hovering over the trigger of his sidearm, glared at Ryuji, who was currently sprawled on the floor, his hands raised in surrender. "Friends, huh?" Austin scoffed, his voice laced with a dangerous edge. "You call that friendly? You tried to take me down like some kind of wild animal!"

"Hey, I didn't know who you were!" Ryuji protested, his voice rising in indignation. "You just barged in here! We thought you were one of those… you know… Academia guys!"

"Well, I can assure you," Austin said, his voice dripping with sarcasm, "I'm not with those scum." He looked at the other Phantom Thieves, who were still frozen in place, their faces pale. "And I'm starting to think you're not much better. You ambush me, then threaten me with violence?"

"Look," Makoto interjected, her voice calm and measured, "we're sorry. We didn't know who you were. We were just trying to protect ourselves."

Austin remained unconvinced. "Protect yourselves from what? Ghosts? This place is practically a tomb." He then looked at Ryuji, his eyes narrowing. "And you," he said, his voice low and menacing, "if you try anything like that again, I won't hesitate to use this."

Sumire took a step forward and he focused on her. "Austin was it? We're sorry that we thought you were an enemy. We didn't mean any harm. We were jumpy after watching the warning that Ren's father left behind."

At the mention of Ren's father, Austin's hardened face softened somewhat. His grip on his weapon slackened a little bit.

The tension in the room was broken by an unexpected sound – the heavy thud of footsteps and the faintest hint of… musky odor? The Phantom Thieves, still reeling from the recent confrontation, exchanged bewildered glances. Then, into the room slithered the biggest crocodile they'd ever seen.

The magnificent beast of a reptile surveyed the room with an air of regal indifference. She circled the group, her eyes gleaming in the dim light, before proceeding to sniff each of the Phantom Thieves with disconcerting thoroughness. Ryuji, who was closest to her, yelped and jumped back, nearly tripping over his own feet. "Whoa, whoa, whoa! What the–?!"

Ann shrieked and ducked behind Makoto. "A crocodile?! In here?! For real?!"

Yusuke, surprisingly, remained calm. "Fascinating. Such an unusual… house pet."

Having completed her olfactory inspection, seemed satisfied. She let out a low, rumbling growl, then slithered towards a new arrival, a man in a slouch hat, who was watching the proceedings with an amused grin.

"Don't mind her. Karen's just checking to see if you're… well, worthy."

The Phantom Thieves exchanged confused glances. "Worthy?" Makoto echoed, bewildered.

"Yeah," he explained, scratching Karen's head behind the ears. "If she thinks you're alright, then you're alright with me. She has a pretty good nose for character, you know."

"Karen? Is she yours?" Haru asked curiously. The man nodded.

"Yep. We've been together through thick and thin. Allow me to introduce myself. The name is James Crocodile Cook. But my friends call me Jim. And since Ren says boyfriends of his, then you are friends of mine. Ah…speak of the devil."

The door to the Operations Center burst open, and Ren stepped inside, Morgana perched nonchalantly on his shoulder. He took in the scene before him: his friends, looking a little worse for wear but otherwise unharmed, standing awkwardly around the room. Ryuji, still looking slightly dazed, was trying to avoid Karen's probing gaze. Ann and Yusuke were exchanging worried glances, while Makoto and Futaba looked on with a mixture of relief and disbelief.

For a moment, no one spoke. Ren simply stared at his friends, his eyes scanning their faces, taking in every detail, every scratch, every smudge of grime. They stared back at him, their expressions a mixture of relief, disbelief, and pure joy.

Then, Sumire broke the silence. With a cry of relief, she rushed towards Ren, enveloping him in a tight hug. "Ren!" she exclaimed, her voice choked with emotion. "I thought I'd never see you again!"

Ren returned the hug, burying his face in her hair. "Me too, Sumire," he whispered, his voice thick with emotion. "Me too."

One by one, the others joined the embrace. Ryuji, despite his initial bravado, was the first to shed a tear. Ann launched herself at Ren with a joyful shriek. Yusuke simply smiled, a single tear tracing a path down his cheek. Makoto, her expression a mixture of relief and concern, placed a hand on Ren's shoulder, offering a silent but powerful message of support. Futaba simply beamed, her eyes sparkling with joy as she hugged Ren from behind. Haru joined in on the hug as well.

"I'm so glad to see you guys too," Ren said, pulling back from the hug. He looked around at his friends, relief washing over him. "But… how did you even get here? How did you… activate the Transporter?"

Ann stepped forward, her eyes sparkling. "That's a long story," she began, "but it all started with Maruki."

"Maruki?" Ren frowned. "What does Maruki have to do with this?"

"Well," Ann explained, "we were looking for you. And then we saw him… running. Like running. Like a man possessed."

Ryuji interjected, "Yeah, you were freaking out! And then we saw this video Maruki took… this crazy video of you dueling some… some giant robot thing!"

"A Duel Soldier," Makoto corrected. "It was… intense. You were amazing, Ren!"

Ren blinked, completely bewildered. "You guys saw that? I was pretty sure I picked an isolated spot."

"You've got better luck with an underground dungeon," Futaba chimed in. "But anyway, after seeing that video, we knew we had to find you. And then Maruki… well, he gave us the Transporter."

"He gave you the Transporter?" Ren repeated, still processing the information. "But… why?"

"He thought that you might need help," Makoto explained. "He believed you were in danger and so did we. Especially after we heard what happened in the Youth Detention Center."

Ren's face fell. "Oh…you heard about that."

"It hadn't made the news, but Mako-Chan's big sister told us," Haru said with relief. "We're glad that you weren't one of the victims."

"Me too," Ren said with a nod. In some sad twist of fate, if it weren't for the duel soldier, he wouldn't have gotten his memories back. Nor would he have been reunited with his friends.

"So, you guys followed me through a dimensional portal? Just like that?"

"Yep," Sumire said with a small pop. "Although some machine fell apart when we came here."

"If you're talking about the Interdimensional Transporter, then yeah, it's totaled," a blue-haired teen said as he walked in while waving his hand. "So, you're friends of Ren, yeah? My name is Johan Anderson. A pleasure to meet you."

"Nice to meet you, Johan," Makoto greeted.

"Just so you know Transporter is possibly the only way back to your dimension," Johan said, much to the horror of Ren.

"Wait…so they can't go back?" Ren asked. Johan shook his head.

"Nope. I'm not much of a technician myself, but I know that machine isn't going to work."

"Then I guess we'd better salvage what we can," Austin said. "We take what we can for R to develop a new transporter."

"Yep."

"Hey! What do you mean by They?" Ryuji demanded, noticing that Ren had used the word instead of Us. Ren looked at his fellow thieves, a look of regret crossing his face. He didn't want to disappoint them, but a rebellion against Academia was too dangerous for them to handle.

It isn't like how they did it in the Metaverse. Back then, they had access to their Personas. Over here, Academia is armed with Duel Monsters and human sealing technology. Unlike the Fall, the technology has been perfected. If they get hit, then they won't die but become sacrificial lambs for the Professor's madness.

Ren didn't want that for them. Especially when he didn't belong in their dimension in the first place.

"Guys…I'm sorry. I'm really glad you guys came all this way to find me…"

Suddenly, Amon's voice crackled through their Duel Disks, "Attention everyone, we have a situation."

Austin immediately tensed. "What is it, Nimbus? If it's about the Transporter, I assure you that we are going to salvage everything we can—"

"No, not the Transporter, Blaze," Amon interrupted, his voice urgent. "The submarine's sensors are picking up multiple Duel signatures approaching the island. Judging from the speed, they're likely using hang gliders."

A wave of unease washed over the Rebels. That could only mean one thing, but they needed to be sure.

The Rebels, their faces grim, moved towards the window, the Phantom Thieves following closely behind. They peered out into the night. Despite the darkness, they could make out the shapes of several figures silhouetted against the moonlit sky, gliding effortlessly through the air on hang gliders.

Austin, ever prepared, pulled out a pair of binoculars with a night vision function. He raised them to his eyes and peered through the lenses. After a few moments, his face hardened. "It's them," he said, his voice grim. "Academia. And… they've sent in the Obelisk Force."

A wave of dread washed over the group. The Obelisk Force. Academia's elite strike team comprised some of the most powerful Duelists in the world of Fusion. They were ruthless, efficient, and utterly merciless.

"We need to get out of here," Ren said, his voice low and urgent. "Now."

But it was too late. The first wave of hang gliders began to descend, landing silently on the beach below. The sound of boots hitting the ground echoed through the night, followed by the low hum of Duel Disks powering up. The battle had begun.

[~[~]

Greetings and Bienvenu, readers!

I apologize for the long absence between updates for "The Phantom Duelists." To be honest, I hit a bit of writer's block, and it took me a while to get back into the groove of things.

But fear not! The wait is finally over, and our heroes are reunited! While Ren is overjoyed to see his friends again, he's also a bit concerned. Joining the Rebellion won't be like their adventures in the Metaverse. Yu-Gi-Oh! is a game, meant for fun and entertainment. But in the Four Dimensions, a single draw could mean life or death. Especially when the losers get sealed in a card to become… well, let's just say they become "donors" for the ARC-Area Project. So, Ren knows his friends need to prove that they can truly hold their own in this new and dangerous reality.

But first, they need to escape the island. Academia has indeed sent a team to investigate the dimensional anomaly. Will they make it out alive? Find out in the next chapter!

Thank you for reading! And I'm incredibly grateful that it's finally 2025.

Until Next Time.