Velgrynd lay broken.
Her massive body was half-buried in shattered ground, crimson scales cracked and split, divine blood pouring freely like molten fire. Each breath came out ragged, pained, humiliating. Her wings twitched weakly, refusing to rise.
Her regeneration did not respond.
No matter how desperately she tried to force it.
Above her, Ra hovered in silence, golden wings spread wide. Streams of radiant energy flowed continuously from Velgrynd's body into Ra's core—her magicules being siphoned away without pause, stripped from her existence faster than she could replenish them.
"…Why…?" Velgrynd gasped, coughing blood. "Why… won't my body heal…?"
Ra did not answer.
He did not need to.
Atem walked forward.
Each step echoed like a verdict being read aloud.
He stopped before her and looked down—not with hatred, not with anger, but with cold, absolute indifference.
Like a dinosaur looking at an ant.
"Now you understand," Atem said calmly.
Velgrynd's eyes widened weakly as she struggled to lift her head.
"Your power," Atem continued, "means nothing in front of true power."
She tried to speak. No words came out.
"This ends now," he said. "Your soul is mine."
Back in the Labyrinth, the projection trembled.
Ramiris screamed, "WAIT—WAIT—THIS IS TOO FAR!"
Velzard staggered backward, hands shaking. "Atem… please…"
Veldora's grin vanished entirely. "…No way…"
Benimaru swallowed hard. "He's going to—"
Atem raised his hand.
"Judgment of Osirion."
The world went silent.
A massive, ancient sigil appeared beneath
Velgrynd's body, glowing with divine authority older than time itself. Chains of golden hieroglyphs erupted from the ground, wrapping around her shattered form—not restraining flesh, but binding the soul itself.
Velgrynd screamed.
Not in pain.
In realization.
"NO—WAIT—I—!"
The sigils tightened.
A vortex of pure divine judgment opened beneath her, pulling not her body—but her existence.
Osirion devoured with perfect precision.
No excess.
No chaos.
No resistance.
Velgrynd's scream cut off instantly.
And then—
She was gone.
No explosion.
No remains.
No rebirth.
Gone.
The projection froze.
The Labyrinth was silent.
Velzard collapsed to her knees, hands covering her mouth. "…She's… gone…?"
Veldora stared, eyes wide, voice barely audible.
"…She's not coming back…"
Diablo lowered his head slowly. "…Erasure."
Testarossa whispered, shaken. "…Even a True Dragon…"
Ultima swallowed hard. "So this is final judgment…"
Carrera clenched her fists. "…No resurrection…"
Geld trembled. "Lord Atem…"
Gobta sat down hard. "B-boss… he really did it…"
Shuna clasped her hands tightly, eyes wet. "It's over…"
Hakuro closed his eyes. "A king's mercy… has limits."
Some watched in awe.
Some in fear.
Some in grief.
Some… with even deeper devotion.
Atem turned.
Rudra was still standing—shaking violently.
He could not move.
Could not activate a skill.
Could not even scream properly.
The Pharaoh Authority crushed him completely.
A voice echoed calmly inside Atem's mind.
Solarys, Sovereign of Wisdom.
Master. Rudra's soul is corrupted.
Atem's eyes narrowed slightly.
"…Corrupted?"
Yes. His Ultimate Skill—Justice King Michael—has exceeded its role.
Atem paused.
Michael has gained autonomy. It has become a Manas.
Atem's expression hardened.
"…A Manas?"
An evolved Ultimate Skill that has awakened self-awareness. It no longer serves its owner. It rules him.
Atem exhaled slowly.
"…I see. That explains everything."
Inside Rudra's soul—
Michael panicked.
For the first time since awakening, fear gripped the Manas.
He felt it.
Atem could see him.
He tried to flee.
Tried to scream.
Tried to send a signal.
A message shot outward—toward Feldway.
Nothing.
The barrier swallowed it whole.
Everything was sealed.
Everything was under Atem's control.
Rudra's mouth moved.
"D-don't touch me… don't come closer…!"
That was not Rudra speaking.
That was Michael.
Atem stepped closer and placed his hand before Rudra's face.
"Come to me," Atem said calmly.
Reality obeyed.
Rudra's soul was forcibly extracted, drawn out like light from glass, screaming silently as it left the body. A glowing spiritual form tore free and hovered in Atem's hand.
Rudra's body collapsed—empty.
Atem closed his fingers gently.
"Solarys," he said. "Analyze."
The soul vanished into a sealed inner dimension, completely isolated.
Michael screamed.
No one heard it.
Back in the Labyrinth—
No one spoke for several seconds.
Then Diablo dropped to one knee.
"…My lord," he said solemnly. "I pledge myself anew."
One by one—
They knelt.
Benimaru.
Hakuro.
Shion.
Shuna.
Souei.
Geld.
Gobta.
Gabil.
Zegion.
Apito.
Adalmann.
Even the Primordial demons lowered their heads.
Not in fear.
In acknowledgment.
Atem turned back toward the projection.
"Now," he said calmly, "it is time to end the war."
He lifted his hand.
"Come forth."
The air behind him split open.
One by one, monsters emerged from his Spirit Deck—beings bound not by cards, but by will.
Dark Magician, cloak billowing with ancient sorcery.
Dark Magician Girl, staff glowing with battle
magic.
Summoned Skull, lightning crackling across his horns.
Buster Blader, sword screaming for dragon blood.
Gaia the Fierce Knight, mounted, lance ready.
Curse of Dragon, roaring skyward.
Mahad, ancient and radiant.
Silent Magician, eyes glowing with sealed power.
Silent Swordsman, blade humming with inevitability.
Dozens more followed—spirits, legends, monsters of myth and war.
Atem's voice carried across dimensions.
"Go," he commanded.
"End the Eastern Empire's army."
"Spare the civilians."
"Leave no soldier standing."
The monsters roared in unison.
They vanished.
The war was over.
And the Pharaoh—
Had spoken the final word.
It happened too fast.
By the time the Eastern Empire realized something was wrong, the sky was already breaking.
Rifts opened above the imperial territory like wounds in reality itself. From those tears stepped beings that did not belong to any known category—neither demon, nor spirit, nor monster as the Empire understood them.
They moved with purpose.
With intelligence.
With coordination.
And that was what terrified the soldiers the most.
A floating battleship patrol drifted calmly through the clouds.
"Nothing on radar," one officer said lazily.
"Yeah, looks like a quiet night—"
The sky split.
A figure in a dark cloak appeared standing casually on the hull of the lead ship.
"W-What the—?! Who's on the deck?!"
The man raised a staff. Purple light gathered.
"Dark Magic Attack."
The ship vanished.
Not exploded—erased.
The shockwave rolled outward, flipping nearby ships like toys.
"What just happened?!"
"That wasn't artillery!"
"Raise barriers! EMERGENCY BARRIERS!"
Before the barriers could fully form, lightning crashed down.
Summoned Skull tore through the formation, laughing as divine thunder erupted from his horns.
"FIRE EVERYTHING!" an officer screamed. "DON'T LET IT CLOSE!"
Magic cannons struck him head-on.
The smoke cleared.
Summoned Skull was still there.
Unharmed.
He swung one claw.
Three ships were torn apart at once.
"This—this can't be happening!"
"Our attacks aren't working!"
"Are these things even alive?!"
On the plains below, thousands of Imperial soldiers stood frozen, staring up at the sky.
"Sir…" a young soldier whispered, gripping his spear. "What… what are those?"
"I don't know," the commander replied, his voice shaking despite himself. "But hold formation! Mages, prepare suppression spells!"
The ground shook.
A mounted knight burst through the smoke—Gaia the Fierce Knight, charging straight through the front line.
"STOP HIM!"
"PIERCING FORMATION!"
Gaia didn't slow down.
He smashed through shields, armor, and bodies in a straight line, his lance glowing as if fate itself pushed him forward.
Behind him, Buster Blader walked calmly toward a squadron of Imperial war dragons.
Dragon riders laughed nervously.
"He's alone!"
"Dragons, burn him!"
Fire rained down.
Buster Blader raised his sword.
One swing.
The fire split.
The dragons screamed.
Heads fell.
The riders stared in disbelief as their mounts collapsed beneath them.
"He… killed them in one hit…"
"Those were enhanced dragons!"
"Run! RUN!"
Then came the ones no one recognized.
Creatures Atem had absorbed long ago, when he first entered this world—monsters from the depths of Veldora's cave.
A massive crystal-scaled serpent slithered across the battlefield. Spells bounced off its body and reflected back, annihilating the casters who fired them.
"That spell came back at us!"
"It reflected it—how is that possible?!"
Insectoid titans burst from underground, their movements eerily synchronized.
"They're flanking us!"
"No—how are monsters coordinating like soldiers?!"
Stone guardians absorbed cannon fire, their bodies glowing brighter with every hit.
"Stop shooting!"
"You're just making them stronger!"
Too late.
They slammed their fists into the ground.
The earth erupted.
Entire battalions disappeared.
The Empire's elite arrived.
The Single Digits.
Each one radiated power strong enough to crush ordinary soldiers just by standing nearby.
One of them stepped forward confidently, blade glowing.
"So these are the enemy," he said coldly. "Pathetic. I'll handle this."
He charged Silent Swordsman.
Their blades met.
Once.
The Single Digit froze.
"…What?"
Silent Swordsman didn't speak.
He swung again.
The elite warrior was sent flying, crashing through three hills before stopping.
"…I lost?" the man whispered, coughing blood. "I didn't even see the strike…"
Another Single Digit launched a devastating spell at Silent Magician.
She raised one hand.
The spell vanished.
Her eyes glowed.
The enemy mage collapsed, mana completely drained.
"My… power… where did it go…?"
A third Single Digit screamed in rage.
"I DON'T CARE WHAT YOU ARE!"
He unleashed everything.
Mahad appeared behind him.
Light descended.
There was nothing left.
Lieutenant Kondou, watching from a command ship, clenched the railing.
"…The Single Digits… defeated?" he muttered. "No. Destroyed."
His subordinate shouted, "Lieutenant! All channels are down! The army's breaking apart!"
Kondou's voice was hollow.
"These aren't monsters… they're an army."
The ship shook violently.
A shadow passed overhead.
Kondou looked up.
"…So this is how it ends."
Total Panic
Across the Empire, voices overlapped in chaos.
"Retreat! We can't fight this!"
"Where did these monsters come from?!"
"Who is commanding them?!"
"Someone—anyone—stop them!"
Some soldiers threw down weapons.
Some screamed prayers.
Some simply stood there, unable to move, watching the end.
The projection showed city after city falling.
Benimaru spoke quietly, heavy with disbelief.
"They're not slowing down at all."
Shion clenched her fists.
"This isn't just power. It's absolute control."
Shuna covered her mouth.
"So many soldiers…"
Souei said grimly,
"Their command structure is completely gone."
Geld lowered his head.
"An empire… erased."
Veldora laughed, eyes shining.
"HAHA! This is what happens when Lord Atem says the duel's over!"
Diablo folded his arms, smiling darkly.
"Perfection. Not a single wasted move."
Ultima shook her head.
"Even we would struggle against that."
Carrera smirked uneasily.
"Yeah… I don't wanna be on the other side of that."
Velzard whispered, broken,
"…Velgrynd… you should have listened…"
Ramiris hugged herself tightly.
"I'm never making him mad. Ever."