When the field opens, memories stir, and fates begin to collide...
"Shun."
"Shun... are you planning to sleep the whole day?"
"If you don't come down in one minute, I'm coming up—and you know you don't want that."
Upstairs, Shun Kazami stirred under the covers. He swung his legs off the bed, rubbing sleep from his eyes. He'd been dreaming of a strange place filled with even stranger creatures. There were dragons and—
"Shun!" his mother called again.
"I'm awake!" he replied groggily.
Dragging himself into the bathroom, he showered and changed into his school uniform: a crisp white shirt and a silver jacket. On the back, the word "Sterling" shimmered in golden embroidery.
He tried combing his messy blue hair, but it stayed wild as ever. He sighed. Waking up early was his least favorite thing. One more hour of sleep would've been perfect—but his mother would never allow that.
Downstairs, she was setting the table. Shun slumped into his seat.
"Why do we even need school so early?" he muttered.
"Stop whining and eat," she said without looking up.
He lazily picked at his breakfast, then slung his bag over his shoulder and headed out. He arrived at school just in time.
Though often sleepy, Shun was considered a genius. From sports to academics, he topped everything. His eyes sparkled with curiosity, and his mind soaked up knowledge like a sponge. Usually, seeing something once or twice was enough.
People often compared him to his father, Sache Kazami—though Shun was at least a little more motivated. Sache had been a prodigy who barely cared to try. Even when he knew every answer, he'd leave papers half-done or blank.
"Hi," said a familiar voice.
Silania.
His childhood friend. Short-tempered—especially with him—but strangely patient with everyone else. Shun trusted her more than anyone.
"That's not your usual greeting," he said, narrowing his eyes. "Something bothering you?"
"Well… I need a little help. Will you?"
"Do I even have a choice?"
Before she could answer, the bell rang.
After school, they dodged the crowded hallways and stepped outside. Shun took a deep breath of fresh air. Silania suddenly grabbed his wrist and pulled him along.
"Where are we—?"
"Just move," she snapped, dragging him toward the school grounds. She shoved a stack of colorful flyers into his hands.
"What's this?"
"What do you think?"
"...Flyers."
"Exactly. Now hand them out."
"But—" he started, but she had already vanished.
With a groan, he got to work. By the time he finished, only a few were left. He headed home.
"I'm home," he called out.
"Took you longer than usual," his mother said from the kitchen.
"When your friend is Silania, delays are guaranteed."
He tossed the leftover flyers onto the table. His mother picked one up, her eyes lighting up.
"Did she tell you what this is about?"
"Nope. Just gave orders. No details."
"You might actually find this interesting," she said with a knowing smile.
"I'm going to change," he mumbled, heading upstairs.
That evening, his father came home. His gaze fell on the flyer.
"Brings back memories," he murmured.
March 3rd
It was a warm spring morning. Flowers bloomed, and trees wore coats of fresh green leaves. Birds chirped softly in the distance.
Shun was asleep when his alarm screamed.
He slapped it off. "It's Sunday. Why would I wake up early?"
A beat passed.
"...Sunday," he repeated, shooting upright.
He bolted out of bed, showered, dressed, and ran out of the house.
Ten minutes later, panting and out of breath, he arrived at Square Fountain Park. Silania was already waiting.
"You're late."
"Sorry," he panted.
"No time for that. You're selling Zenoms today."
"...Selling what now?"
"No time to explain," she said, pointing to a small wooden stall nearby.
Selling toys didn't sound hard—until he realized no one was stopping by. He stood there, bored, until finally, a little girl bought one.
As the toy passed from his hands to hers, a strange vision struck him.
A black dragon flying toward a brilliant light.
His head throbbed. The moment passed. But something inside him had shifted—like a door creaked open somewhere deep within.
Then a boy walked by and stopped nearby. Shun looked up. Something about the boy felt... off.
"Can I help you?" Shun asked.
The boy had striking blue hair and eyes. Long bangs covered his left eye. He wore a black tracksuit. Tall. Muscular. His presence felt heavy.
"Feels like I've seen you before," the boy said.
"Don't think we've met."
"You really don't know what this is about, huh?"
"Nope. I'm just here because a friend asked."
"I'm Shiyami. You?"
"Shun Kazami."
Something flickered in Shiyami's eyes. Red, maybe. His gaze lingered. He pulled his hand from their handshake, shoving it into his pocket. Cold.
He smiled, but it didn't reach his eyes.
Kazami... He looks like him. Could it be? If it is, then…
Shiyami said nothing more. He'd wait.
Shun noticed him zoning out but said nothing. A shout from nearby drew their attention.
Silania stood facing off against an unfamiliar boy.
"You lost," someone said.
"Fighting low-ranked players is boring. I need someone better," the boy sneered.
"Then fight me," Shiyami said, stepping forward. "Even if I lose, who cares?"
"Confident, aren't you?"
The boy held up his Zenom—a compact toy, white armor glimmering, black and blue battle scars etched into its surface. One black eye burned fiercely.
Shiyami revealed his own. Jet-black, laced with streaks of multicolored light. Its wings caught the sun like blades. Lifeless—yet somehow alive.
"Woo... Neon!" the boy gasped.
Neon?
A memory crashed through Shun's mind.
"Why Neon?"
"Why? You don't get to ask. This was your idea. Forget we were ever friends. We're enemies now."
"Fine then, Neon. I'll forget. So will everyone else."
He blinked. Reality snapped back.
Silania was holding his hand tightly. In her other—a card.
Everyone around them held a similar card.
"Field open," they said in unison.
A flash of light. The world twisted and spun.
They stood in a realm with no sky and no ground. Just swirling colors, collapsing stars, and bottomless voids. Yet the air was breathable. The realm pulsed with energy. Surreal—but familiar.
Something inside Shun stirred. His right arm pulsed—not with pain, but power. This place felt like... home.
"Shun!" Silania shouted.
He snapped out of it.
In the center of the space stood a table with orange cylindrical targets. A floating screen above it read:
Icy vs Neon – 0:0
"Want to go first?" the boy asked.
"After you," Shiyami replied. "Take all your chances. Make it quick."
The boy placed his Zenom and pressed a button. Three marbles launched, striking targets with precise clicks.
Icy – 375
The targets reset.
Shiyami stepped up. Calm. Collected.
He fired a single marble. It struck the center.
Silence.
Then—BOOM. A shockwave rippled across the field. Every target shattered in an instant.
Neon – 5378
Cheers erupted. Light engulfed the field—and they were back in the real world.
All eyes were on Shiyami.
But his gaze stayed locked on Shun.
"That was a power shot," the boy muttered. "I forgot anyone else could use it... except Nuru."
"You know him?" Shiyami asked.
"Yeah."
"Well... see you around."
Shiyami turned, walking away—casting one final glance back.
In the blood-soaked fields of Shiyami Corp, bodies in purple cloaks lay motionless. One man remained—trembling.
A boy stood over a corpse, knife dripping. He turned.
"Any last info you want to share?"
"Never! I won't betray the Zenom Association!"
"So loyal..."
The man screamed as Shiyami touched his arm—and collapsed.
Shiyami dragged him to the gates.
"He must live," he told the guards.
In the empty halls, his voice echoed:
"Sache Kazami's son... and he knows nothing. Interesting."
"He'll learn," Neon said from within. "Better than anyone."
Shiyami smirked.
"I lied—we have met before," he whispered.
"He took everything from me. Now it's my turn."
"You pity him?" Neon asked. "He seemed... nice."
"Pity?" Shiyami scoffed. "He's the Long Wang wielder. Or will be."
"Wang... It's been a long time," Neon replied.