Night had fallen, yet this decayed, ancient, and unchanging world did not rest beneath the darkness.
If anything, it spun even faster.
In front of Neo Domino City's largest hospital, the press had swarmed the entrance so tightly that not even air could pass through.
Flashes from countless cameras strobed across the doors in relentless succession, and the glare from the floodlights turned night into day.
At the center of the crowd stood a broad-shouldered, refined-looking man in a pristine suit, his hands clasped calmly behind his back, his expression composed.
Director Rex Goodwin.
The number of reporters was so overwhelming that Sector Security officers had to form a human barricade just to keep microphones from being shoved into his face.
"Director Goodwin! What's your response to Sector Security's latest failure in today's Riding Duel pursuit? Reports claim the opponent was an interdimensional duelist! Are otherworldly invaders truly infiltrating our city?"
"Director Goodwin! It's been two weeks since KCG champion Jack Atlas lost to Yusei Fudo in the Fortune Cup finals, yet Jack still hasn't appeared in public! Rumors say you secretly eliminated him, care to explain?"
"Director Goodwin! Reliable sources allege you plotted to assassinate senior nobles of the Senate, forcing months of political infighting! How far has that conflict gone?"
Goodwin showed not a trace of concern.
He answered each question with the same poised smile, his voice measured and unhurried, utterly at ease amid the chaos.
Then, from deep within the sea of reporters, a smaller figure pushed forward, a young woman with long, straight black hair and oversized round glasses, gripping a cheap microphone with both hands.
Carly Carmine.
Goodwin recognized her immediately. A lower-tier journalist from an obscure tabloid, born in the upper district but far from its elite.
An ambitious nobody, one among thousands.
"Director Goodwin, may I ask something?" she shouted above the noise.
"During the Fortune Cup finals, both Yusei Fudo and Jack Atlas had a red glow appear on their arms. What was that?"
For the first time, Goodwin's eyes narrowed.
His pupils contracted, and the hands behind his back subtly shifted.
So, someone had noticed.
Out of all these people, she alone had perceived the glow of the Crimson Dragon's marks.
He studied her briefly.
Ordinary… utterly ordinary.
And yet, to notice that, did she possess a spark of "potential"?
"What's the big deal? Probably just duel energy resonance! You know, those 'spirits' otherworlders are always babbling about!"
"Yeah, stop wasting his time! Let the rest of us talk!"
Even among the upper classes there was hierarchy. To them, a common reporter like Carly taking up Goodwin's time was unforgivable.
"As for your question," Goodwin replied at last, offering the faintest nod, "perhaps one day you'll learn the answer yourself. Until then, there's no need for me to explain."
That was all the courtesy he gave her.
The other accusations, murder, conspiracy, treason, he ignored completely.
Such matters were beneath discussion.
Yes, he had eliminated certain meddlesome pests, but to the citizens of Neo Domino, those people did not even exist.
After all, the public believed the city was governed solely by Sector Security. Only those who reached the top learned the truth, that behind the façade lay a hidden Senate pulling the strings.
Goodwin himself hadn't known until he became Director.
And when he did… he struck.
During the last Friendship Cup between the Fusion and Synchro Dimensions, he quietly wiped out the entire Senate.
His cleanup had been immaculate, yet the surviving aristocrats still pieced together fragments of the truth, that he was the one behind the purge.
It didn't matter. Their reactions were exactly as he'd foreseen.
Some sought his death.
Others tried to recruit him.
A few fools even hoped to replace their fallen peers by joining him.
Pathetic.
Even with the Senate gone, the nobility still owned nearly ninety-nine percent of the city's wealth.
Centuries of peace and indulgence had made them soft. They had no idea the world was on the brink of transformation.
Goodwin exhaled softly, almost amused.
"How shallow," he thought.
"They can't even sense that change is coming."
He had no interest in their petty power games.
His attention was fixed solely on his plan, a destiny moving forward, one deliberate step at a time.
"Director Goodwin!" another reporter shouted.
"About these interdimensional duelists, what do you know about them? You've been in the hospital, so you might not have heard..."
How did Goodwin see it?
Of course, he knew exactly what had happened.
Not only did he know, he had seen it with his own eyes: the spectral D-Wheel once belonging to his brother, Roman, galloping away to follow its new master.
Yes… he had seen it more clearly than anyone else.
Goodwin knew what the Lower District rebels were plotting.
He even knew the nobles, those bloated remnants of the old Senate, had secretly joined forces with powers from another dimension, gathering strength to strike at him.
They thought he was unaware.
"Sooner or later, they'll all die," he mused. "Some people just can't wait their turn."
As the reporters continued to shout, Goodwin's sharp eyes caught something none of them noticed.
Carly Carmine had slipped past the guards.
Disguised.
Interesting.
That ability to suppress her presence… that skill for disguise… perhaps she really was gifted after all.
Goodwin's smile returned as he resumed answering questions, pretending nothing was amiss.
If the Mark of the Dragon and the Mark of the Shadows were destined to meet, then let curiosity guide her, let her see for herself.
Carly moved deeper into the hospital.
Using her quick thinking and remarkable talent for costume changes, she easily blended in as a nurse and slipped into the restricted ward.
She'd come hoping to interview Jack Atlas, and she found him almost immediately.
The former King was staggering down the hallway, one arm braced against the wall.
Half of his body still refused to respond.
So it's true! Carly thought.
That terrifying crimson light during the Fortune Cup final, it hadn't been an illusion.
The explosion from that glow had been real.
Otherwise, how could a man as tough as Jack Atlas still be half-crippled weeks later?
Before she could speak, Jack's legs gave way. Startled, Carly lunged forward to catch him.
For a girl who'd never so much as brushed against a man before,
suddenly supporting someone as tall and broad-shouldered as Jack was almost impossible.
She was about to scold him, tell him he should still be resting, when the corridor temperature plunged.
The air turned white with frost. Ice crystals crept along the walls, and the hospital's fluorescent lights flickered as if the entire building had fallen into a blizzard.
A man in a security guard's uniform staggered toward them, his eyes empty, his breath freezing in the air.
On his left arm glowed a black sigil, twisted and pulsing like a dark mirror of Jack's own Crimson Dragon mark.
Carly froze.
Needles of ice erupted around them, shooting through the air like spears. If Jack hadn't reacted instantly, both of them might have been skewered where they stood.
"W-what is this? A psychic duelist?!" she gasped, her voice trembling.
Before panic could set in, Jack grabbed her arm and pulled her close.
Their eyes met for a single heartbeat.
"Take my Duel Disk," Jack barked.
"Draw for me, play the cards, I'll give the orders!"
Even wounded, he radiated that same unshakable King's aura.
Carly's heart pounded, but she obeyed without hesitation.
Together, the two of them faced the dark figure, Jack commanding, Carly drawing and placing the cards.
And somehow…every time she drew, her hand seemed guided by fate itself.
Each card was exactly what Jack needed.
When danger closed in, she played with uncanny instinct,
as though something inside her was awakening.
"Not bad," Jack said curtly when the duel finally ended, "for a reporter."
He turned away, still pale, still unsteady on his feet.
"You're still hurt!" she protested.
"You need to rest!"
"This city doesn't need a crippled King!" Jack shot back, forcing himself down the hall.
"Damn it… those Dark Signers… they'll go after Yusei next. Where the hell are you, Yusei?!"
Carly stood frozen in place. And in that moment, she finally understood.
Jack's injuries hadn't lasted all this time because doctors had failed to heal him; they lingered because he refused to rest.Ever since the Fortune Cup, he had forced his body through duel after duel against one Dark Signer puppet after another,each battle leaving him more battered, more broken.
When he finally stumbled out of the hospital and collapsed on the pavement,
Carly had no choice.
Cursing under her breath, she hauled his dead weight into her car and somehow drove him home.
"Honestly! I've never brought a man home before, especially not one like you!" she fumed, cheeks red with exertion.
That night, Jack finally slept, a deep, dream-laden sleep he hadn't known in weeks.
In the dream, he was adrift in a sea of stars.
Two colossal crimson dragons collided across the void, each roar shattering constellations, each tail lash shaking the heavens themselves.
The sight was so overwhelming, he couldn't help but cry out;
"Aah!", and then he woke, gasping, in an unfamiliar room.
Through the window, he saw the spire of a tower rising against the dawn.
His body, finally given rest, felt marginally restored.
He swung his legs off the bed and crossed into the living room,where Carly lay fast asleep over her desk, her glasses askew.
He didn't wake her.
Instead, he found a coat, hat, and dark glasses, anything to hide his face, and slipped out into the morning streets.
Now he wandered, lost in thought.
His duel with Yusei had once opened his eyes to his own limits, and afterward he'd returned the Stardust Dragon to Yusei, admitting his mistakes.
But after losing again, to Yusei himself at the Fortune Cup, a question gnawed at him:
Does a King like me… even deserve to exist anymore?
He had spent his whole life climbing upward, yet at the summit he'd found only emptiness.
What was a "King," really? A puppet in a crown.
The true power of the city still rested in the hands of the nobles, even Rex Goodwin couldn't change that.
"Honestly," a drowsy voice said behind him, "you just got one night's rest and you're already sneaking out?"
Jack turned.
It was the "nurse" from the hospital, though now, clearly, not a nurse at all.
Carly rubbed her eyes, barely awake.
Jack said nothing. He simply turned away.
"Hey, Jack!" she called, but he didn't answer.
With a sigh, Carly followed, keeping her distance.
They passed a storefront where a giant screen replayed footage of Jack's losses.
The once-glorious King of Duelists was reduced to a montage of defeat.
Jack's fists clenched.
He gave a short, bitter laugh and walked on.
Across the city, Yusei's name now blazed as the symbol of hope.
Jack knew it was time, time to hunt down the Dark Signers,and to find Yusei.
Since that final duel, Yusei had vanished completely, leaving no trace but the faint pulse of the Crimson Dragon's mark.
Carly trailed behind him silently, watching his face shift between anger, pride, and confusion.
The upper city was buzzing, people whispering about Yusei's victory, nobles scoffing that "Jack Atlas was never worthy," children's playgrounds stripping down his statues and banners.The once-golden image of the King was being erased piece by piece.
Jack finally sank onto a park bench, staring blankly at the setting sun.
Everywhere he walked, he heard the same words:
"Yusei… Yusei… Yusei…"
He'd thought that by casting aside everything, fame, luxury, control, and dueling Yusei for the sake of the Red Dragon Archfiend, he might reach new heights.
But in the end, it was Yusei who had ascended.
And he, the King… had fallen.
Sigh
His eyes were vacant.
Just then, a kid suddenly noticed him.
Even with the disguise, that blond hair and that exaggerated build and height were impossible to hide.
The child recognized Jack at once, ran over, and waved: "KING!"
Jack came to himself and looked at the kid.
"KING!" the kid cheered, excited just because Jack looked his way.
From behind the child, Carly lightly patted his shoulder. When he turned, she said, "Jack's doing a secret mission right now. Don't tell anyone, okay? It's just between us."
The child immediately clamped both hands over his mouth and nodded, trying to whisper through his excitement: "I'm a huge fan of Jack! Everyone says he's a fraud, but I don't believe it. I'll always support you!"
Even though Jack had just heard the kid's parent, a noble, bad-mouthing him, the child showed no disgust at all, only pure excitement.
This little guy truly saw Jack as an idol, a hero who could bridge the gap between the Satellite and the City. Jack knew there were many kids like that in the Satellite too, the same ones who followed those two brats around Yusei and… also took him as an idol.
Even though...
Even though the reason he became "KING" had a lot to do with stealing Stardust Dragon from Yusei.
But children are the purest, the most sincere.
Jack looked at him, ruffled his hair, then left without changing expression.
"Jack, make sure you become KING again!" the kid called after him.
Carly kept tailing Jack until he climbed a tall tower and stared out over the sea.
Carly looked out too; the sunset over the horizon was especially beautiful.
Normally, you'd think Jack came to sightsee and clear his head.
But, "You can't see the Satellite from here," she said suddenly.
Jack's pupils tightened, he hadn't expected this woman to read his thoughts.
"You're a reporter here just to interview me, right? Report whatever you want about me."
"I don't write hit-pieces that smear duelists," Carly said.
Though she came from an Upper City family, Carly had always believed the world shouldn't be like this. That's why she chose a small tabloid over chasing status.
Jack fell silent.
"Two years ago, I left the Satellite for the City, abandoning my hometown and my friends. I lost everything then, and in exchange, I got a fake identity and kept playing the clown on the road to a so-called king, the road of a foolish duelist who'd even forgotten who he was."
"If you see it that clearly, then start over," the seemingly ditzy reporter stepped up beside Jack, watching the sunset with him.
"After your duel with Yusei, the old Jack 'died.' So become the true KING now, what's the problem?"
Staring at the horizon, memories of friends flashed through Jack's eyes, Yusei's figure, the Dark Signers and the Signers, and that "lesson duel" he'd once witnessed.
Yes. He should have decided to be "reborn" back then; only now had he truly come to terms with it.
He opened his eyes, tossed his hat to the wind, shed his disguise, and revealed the King's coat.
"You're right. I'm done hesitating, I'll walk my own path!"
Now it was his turn to repay Yusei.
He turned and strode away.
"Wait up, Jack!" Carly, who'd kept up the smart act for all of a minute, dropped the façade and hurried after him.
"Don't follow me. What I'm doing is very dangerous."
"Mmph...so you're underestimating me, huh? I know, you're looking for Marks too, right? I've been investigating them for a while! I found an organization that seems tied to those marks, it's called the Arcadia Movement."
Arcadia Movement.
...
At that moment, Hikaru frowned as he looked into the distance.
A group of sharply dressed Upper City types were spouting all kinds of slick "knowledge," inviting Satellite children to "try out," promising that if they qualified, they'd get free food, maybe even direct entry to the City.
It sounded exactly like a predatory "talent drive."
But in the Satellite, the slightest chance to reach the City drew crowds like moths to a flame, especially if all it took was a simple "test" of one's psychic powers.
If you really had psychic ability, getting into the City wasn't a problem.
This Arcadia Movement was the City's biggest and most famous "psychic training institute."
Right now, they were promoting in a Satellite sector nonstop, talking up the strength and future of Psychic Duelists. With the appearance of interdimensional visitors, Psychics, who could replicate spirits' feats with pure psychic force, had become a hot trend with lots of backers. That meant these institutes came with perks.
Like today: escorting Satellite residents into the City without Security interference.
But in Hikaru's eyes…
They didn't look at those children like students or juniors. Their gaze had a hard-to-describe mania, like shoppers picking out "pork" or "chicken" at a market. It made Hikaru deeply uncomfortable.
He glanced at the mark on his left hand.
He'd made plans today and was ready to run into a Dark Signer, but after a full day of roaming he hadn't met a single one. He'd just been about to tell Chazz that his "they'll be drawn to you" theory was bunk when, on the way back to base, he ran into these Arcadia psychics.
More importantly, his mark was faintly glowing.