The Ra dorm's common room was already awake when Julian stepped out with his bag slung over one shoulder. Morning light broke in thin bands through the high windows, turning the varnished floor into strips of gold and shadow. Conversations paused for a second and then resumed the moment people registered who he was. Not staring, just enough double takes and half-smiles to say word had traveled.
Bastion fell into step beside him a beat later, immaculate as ever: tie centered, hair obeying straight lines as if combed by a ruler. "Sleep well?" Bastion asked as they stepped into the corridor.
"Like a baby. Right up until the sun punched me in the face." Julian said, rubbing his eyes with a wry grin. "Turns out the blackout curtain is not there just for show. I left my window open to get some sea breeze and paid the price: my room's just in the perfect spot to get flashbanged at dawn."
"Unlucky placement." Bastion replied, amused. "Mine's on the shaded side. No such problem."
"Figures." Julian let it go with a soft scoff. "How about you: got a decent rest?"
"Efficient enough." Bastion said. "Two sleep cycles, plus ten minutes reviewing notes once I woke."
Julian snorted. "Of course you did."
"Four hours is better than nothing. I recalculated something that didn't need recalculating." Bastion glanced across the room. "You've acquired observers."
Julian didn't have to turn to feel them. Two second-years by the notice board, pretending to read scheduling, a trio at the long table quieting mid-laugh, the boy by the stairs with a carton of milk who suddenly found the carton fascinating. The previous night's duels had been sanctioned before the security lights found them. An administrative memo had gone out with that careful Duel Academy tone: a reminder about arena hours and authorization forms, paired with a perfectly bland acknowledgement that certain after-hours matches had been approved. The subtext was clear: this wasn't gossip, it was record.
"Guess they like bedtime stories." Julian said.
"Stories with numbers." Bastion replied. "Yours now has a score."
A pair of Ra students intercepted them at the bulletin board, not bold enough to block the path, bold enough to wait where the path narrowed. The taller one lifted his chin. "Heard you clipped one of Princeton's satellites."
Julian smiled as if the phrase were new. "It was a good game."
"And you bailed Jaden out with security." the shorter one said. "That was you, right? The permit?"
"Legwork." Julian said. "He did the heavy lifting."
They wanted details and he gave them none: no card names, no turn count. If he fed them specifics, rumors would calcify around the wrong parts. Better to let the story stay soft at the edges, shaped by the thing that mattered: that it happened by the book and ended on the field, not in detention. The taller one nodded, almost grateful for the restraint, and the conversation dissipated with a few claps on Bastion's shoulder as if the top scorer were part of the same victory.
They crossed the common room toward the main doors. The Ra dorm: two floors of clean lines and practical space wore its crowding like a pressed suit a size too small. Beds were made, shoes aligned beneath metal frames, duffel bags stowed flush. The place was orderly because it had to be. Sixty percent of the academy slept under this roof, and the building had learned how to hold them without bursting.
Professor Sartyr was already stationed near the dorm's common-room doors, a clipboard tucked under one arm and a steaming mug in the other. He greeted them with a small, satisfied smile.
"Mr. Ashford. Mr. Misawa. Punctual as always." he said. "About last night. Thank you for handling matters within the rules. I've circulated the official notice: the Duel Arena extension, the results of the two sanctioned matches, and a reminder that permissions exist for a reason." His eyes twinkled over the rim of his mug. "If students would like to make a point, they may do so without breaking curfew."
Julian inclined his head. "Appreciate you expediting it, Professor."
"Expediting what the rules already allow." Sartyr corrected lightly. "Off you go, then. Make Ra look good today."
They stepped past him into the breezeway's morning light. Only when they were out of earshot did Bastion speak, low. "He wanted that to travel. A cautionary tale about process… and a showcase."
Julian's mouth crooked. "Exactly. Besides reminding everyone the rules work, it doesn't hurt him at all to publicize that a Ra student beat someone in the supposed elite."
They stepped into the morning air and the Ra dorm unfurled behind them in a clean T-shape: a central commons block thrust forward like a prow, with two long residential wings running left and right. The whole structure perched near a rocky rise above the water, close enough for the sea breeze to cut the heat and carry salt on the tongue, but set back from any easy beach access by broken cliffs and scrub. Terraced paths switched back down the hillside toward the main campus, palm trees throwing thin shadows across the concrete. Off to the right in the path to the academy, above the tree line, the Obelisk complex crowned a higher ridge: two gleaming halls with mirrored windows and a private walkway bridged between them. Even from this distance, it projected a message: comfort scaled up, turned into spectacle.
To the left, a line of white gulls traced the coast beyond the treetops, and there, past the bend of the path and the sculpted hedges, the Slifer dorm perched nearer the water. It was small and it looked smaller when framed by the sky: wood kept well enough and stubborn architecture. The ocean made it pretty. The budget made it honest.
"Ra at the center, Obelisk above, Slifer by the tide." Bastion said, as if annotating a diagram. "An efficient visual metaphor. Crowds gravitate to the middle, power climbs, humility erodes on the shore."
"Humility or a hazard risk." Julian said. The Slifer dorm's roofline tilted at an angle that was either rustic charm or an engineering fluke. He could admire the view from there, even envy it. But he surely as hell didn't want to live in it.
They joined the flow of uniforms, yellow blazers threading among white and red. There were looks: some sideways, some blunt. An Obelisk third-year passed with a pair of friends and let his mouth curl into something almost polite. Another one, younger, stared as if encountering a riddle: Ra insignia, talk of wins, quiet shoes. Not loud enough to be a threat, too visible to ignore.
"You keep walking," Bastion said dryly, "like you expect more conversations."
"Expect? No." Julian checked his stride. "The kind of answer that lands for one person can feel like an insult to another. Better to handle questions in small groups: slower, tiresome… but safer."
"Ah. Iterative social calibration." Bastion said. "Change the coefficients, maintain the function."
"Something like that." Leave it to Bastion to turn that into a math thing. He wasn't going to run a campaign, he wasn't trying to. But the academy was a closed ecosystem. Ecosystems responded to pressure. A sanctioned win applied pressure and people were already deciding what it meant. He preferred to give enough information first to make sure his version was the official one, but not so much to the point to make him a gossiper. Fully humiliating the Obelisks wasn't a good idea for someone that wanted to join their ranks, but he also needed to gather attention to be able to move up the ladder. A finicky balance, for sure.
They reached a plaza where the paths widened and stitched together like seams. Obelisk students stood under the long shadow of a glass canopy. A boy with gel-dark hair, a first-year by the fit of his cuffs, muttered something when they passed and his friends half laughed, half watched. Julian didn't need to turn. You could hear posture as clearly as words when you knew what to listen for.
One of the older Obelisks peeled away from the cluster and intercepted them with the lazy courtesy of someone who enjoyed taking up other people's time. "Morning, Ra." His eyes flicked between their badges, landed on Bastion, lingered on Julian. "Nice evening workout yesterday. Must be thrilling to find the arena open so late."
Julian's smile stayed relaxed. "The paperwork was riveting."
A flicker, the older boy's mouth twitched, then settled. "Try to keep that luck. The island has a way to balance things."
"Luck evens out when you play enough games." Julian stated. "Probability's sentimental like that."
Bastion's shoulder angled half a degree toward Julian; that was as close as he came to amusement in public. The Obelisk's gaze snagged on him instead. "Misawa, right? Top written score." He gave a small salute with two fingers. "Keep your buddy from getting lost in the math, will you?"
"I'll try." Bastion said, perfectly polite, perfectly noncommittal.
They parted without further ceremony. Julian didn't watch them go. He watched who watched them, and who decided not to.
"Your tone was neutral." Bastion observed. "Non-aggressive. Non-submissive."
"Think of it like a dojo stance." Julian said. "Lean too far in and you invite a counter. Lean too far back and you give up the mat. Square up, breathe, and you can move either way."
Bastion's mouth tipped, equal parts approval and curiosity. "A poised guard, then. Centered until data dictates a strike." He nodded once, filing it away. "Nice."
They took the central avenue toward the main building. The academy unfolded in clean geometry: lecture halls with high fronts and generous stairs, practice arenas with retractable roof segments, a spire of administrative offices with a clock face that caught the sun like a coin. The place had been designed to impress from every angle, Kaiba's signature: function masquerading as spectacle, spectacle doubling as control.
A pair of Slifer students hustled past them with an energy drink and a binder spilling notes. One whispered, "That's the Ra guy." and the other whispered back "Which one?" Their eyes landed on Bastion first, as all studious eyes did, then slid to Julian.
"Morning." Julian said, to test the echo.
"Morning!" the binder spilled, then apologized to the papers and ran on.
"Your experiment suggests favorable response times." Bastion said.
"I'll publish in a peer-reviewed journal this week." Julian said. "The Effects of Saying Hi on Island Ecosystems."
Both boys snarked as their walk continue. The pair eventually reached the foot of a staircase that split into twin flights up to the main doors. Sound layered itself here: gulls, the faint throb of generators under the arena floors, a distant whistle as maintenance crews pressure-washed seating. The island smelled like ozone and new plastic, like fresh bread and salt.
"About the stipend;" Bastion said, because his mind ran parallel tracks at once. "The posted figures are efficient motivators."
"Graded incentives." Julian said. "Slifer gets a 1000DP monthly as lifeline, Ra gets triple of that as a ladder and Obelisk gets the big bucks. 6000DP and no excuse. If you're at the top and you fail, it's not the system."
"Unless you paid to be there." Bastion murmured.
"Then you paid for a target on your back and will need to keep coughing money to the system to keep your spot." Julian concluded. "Either way, the academy wins. At least it's a way for the academy to keep the economy rolling and give incentives for students to do better."
They crested the stairs into the colonnade. A digital notice board scrolled messages: club sign-ups, lab room assignments, a friendly reminder to refrain from dueling in hallways (illustrated incongruously with a cheerful cartoon duel disk giving a thumbs up). Below the screen, a small cluster of students drifted around the day's duel postings. Someone had scrawled in dry-erase at the edge of the board: Nice one, Ra. Someone else had added: The Obelisks are coming down this year.
Bastion's eyes touched the notation and ticked away again. "You may find the welcome less warming in white or blue." he noted.
Julian didn't glance toward the hill this time. "Good. Warm rooms make people sleepy."
The boys cut through the cool shadow of the pillars and into the entrance hall. Courtyard light fell in a grid across the tiles. Teachers crossed the floor with the brisk, choreographed haste of people who carried a day inside a folder. The hall smelled faintly of toner and lemon cleaner.
A first-year in white brushed by with his jaw clenched and his tie slightly off-center, and for a moment Julian thought of Chazz's silence on the bleachers the night before: how quiet could be louder than rage when it had nowhere to go. There were different ways to bleed pride. Some stained the floor. Some disappeared into a smile.
"Lecture in fifteen." Bastion said, checking his watch and then, out of habit, the clock on the far wall to verify the watch, then the watch again. Redundant systems. "Crowler first."
Julian's mouth curved. "He recovered nicely, looking at his speech yesterday."
"Nicely for a man with his ego hurt." Bastion answered. "Today will measure the half-life of his patience after that embarrassment."
They moved with the flow toward the corridor that led to Crowler's lecture hall. Along the way, Julian let his eyes map the spaces: the alcoves where people lingered out of traffic, the vending machines that served as unofficial bulletin boards, the glass railing that turned the mezzanine into a gallery for spectatorship. The academy was full of sightlines and thresholds: doors that made statements about entering, exits that framed leaving. He liked the architecture's honesty. It told you how the place wanted to be used.
A pair of Ra second-years ahead of them were whispering. "…I'm telling you, the memo legit says approved. That makes it official."
"Official or not, Obelisk is going to spin it."
"That's no spinning, the result is clear. We are not journalist to twist the story, we're duelists."
Julian didn't need to correct them. The academy took care of its own narratives. He'd added a line of text to one of them and now he would see where the paragraph broke.
Bastion angled them toward the lecture hall doors as they were opened by an assistant. "Shall we?"
"Let's do it." Julian said.
They stepped inside to the rows of seats descending toward the podium. The day was ready to be written.
The lecture hall filled the way a tide comes in: steadily, without hurry, until all the seats had a weight to them. Crowler's heels clicked an even tempo across the front step, brocade coat catching the light as if it had been polished along with the podium. He cleared his throat and the murmurs snapped shut.
"Class." he began, "Since the very basics seem to be fashionable again, we shall review fundamentals. Types, subtypes, and what separates adequate understanding from sloppy improvisation." His eyes lingered on the red jackets long enough to be noticed.
He pivoted, looking to one of his students in blue "Miss Rhodes. Enlighten your classmates. Types and subtypes of Monster Cards: enumerate and distinguish."
Alexis didn't need to stand to command the room, but she did it anyway: her posture showing the due diligence required for a proper response in an elite institution. Her voice carried authority without effort. "The six major Monster Types are Normal, Effect, Ritual and Fusion, with some special cases such as Contact Fusion. There are also Spirits and Toons, which are Effect monsters with specific summoning or return conditions and rulings. As for subtypes by characteristic behavior: Gemini, Union, and Flip are all handled as Effect definitions with layered rules. We also have Tokens, which occupy Monster Zones but aren't cards and can't exist off the field. In the context of duel dynamics…"
"That will suffice. Bellissimo! Very good!" Crowler's smile was clipped but bright. "As expected of one of my Obelisk Blues." The white and blue jackets around Alexis sat a little straighter as if the compliment hit them by ricochet.
"It's just the basic." The girl answered nonchalantly dismissing the compliment, as she returned to her seat.
He turned a page on the lectern with crisp fingers. "Now. Field Spells. Mr. Truesdale." his eyes drifted toward the red rows "Educate us. Same thing, define and distinguish."
Syrus jerked to his feet so fast his chair skittered. "F-Field Spells are… they… um… they make the field…" His throat bobbed. "They change things. On the field."
From the blue row, a boy with perfect posture and a too-loud whisper said. "Come on, even kindergarteners know that one." A handful of Obelisks snickered: the sound was small, sharp, and aimed.
Color flooded Syrus's ears. He stared down at his desk as if the answer might be written there. "I — I mean they… affect both players - sometimes, and they go… in the… uh…"
"Hey." Jaden leaned forward in his seat, voice low and easy. "Don't sweat it, Sy. Breathe. You got this."
Syrus inhaled too quickly, then tried again. "They're… Spells that change the environment, and when you play one you do the thing and…" He faltered, words piling up behind the gate of his nerves. The idea was there, the path to say it wasn't.
Julian watched the micro-tells: the way Syrus's fingers tapped out a pattern on the edge of his notebook, the way his gaze kept skipping to the diagram of zones on the board and then away. "He knows it." Julian thought. "He just can't land the sentence into a proper explanation. His nerves get in the way."
Crowler dabbed his handkerchief to the corner of his mouth and let his smile harden. "Charming. 'Make the field do the thing'— the very poetry of Slifer Red in action. Perhaps remedial eloquence is part of the seaside curriculum?" The mockery in the lecturer's voice was noticeable. "Class, precision is not optional. Field Spells are not toys you plop down because you saw someone else do it on TV. If this is the standard in the red dorm, I fear we'll have to be generous in our grading curve." He flicked hand toward Syrus's row. "Do sit, Mr. Truesdale, before we confuse guesses with instruction."
Syrus sank into his seat, shoulders tight. Under his breath, barely louder than a sigh, he mumbled. "I… I knew that. I'm just not used to saying it out loud like that."
Jaden started to lift a hand, grin already forming. "Hey, teach… maybe don't rag on Slifer when you— "
Crowler's knuckles whitened around his handkerchief before he caught himself. He inhaled, let a brittle smile reassemble and cut the red's sentence with his own. "If someone who is not presently auditioning for class clown would like to assist Mr. Truesdale…"
Julian raised his hand. "I can take that."
A small pivot of heads passed through Ra and Slifer. Crowler's gaze measured him, then inclined. "Proceed."
Julian raised as he began his answer keeping his tone level, not performative. "Field Spells are environmental Spell Cards: when one resolves, it establishes conditions that apply to both players unless the text states otherwise. Only one can be active on the whole field in their appropriate Field Spell Zone. If a new one resolves, the previous one is destroyed by game rule during that resolution, not by effect, so you can't chain it as if it were still face-up."
He paused for a second, then added. "Historically, this comes from Duelist Kingdom's prototype terrain bonuses. Pegasus hard-coded the idea that the field itself could empower or hinder monsters - Forest boosting Beasts, the Ocean aiding Fishes and Sea Serpents, that sort of thing. Those were baked-in arena rules, not cards. The concept was a success and expanded by the company after the tournament. When Kaiba Corp created a new tournament in Battle City, it was already done. They turned the concept of controlling the field into a new card type players could choose and compete over. From there, you got dedicated engines built around controlling that environment for specific archetypes or effects, not only monster types and attributes. 'Necrovalley' for Gravekeepers, 'Geartown' lines for Ancient Gears, 'Chicken Game' for draw and protection… The whole modern timing and ruling framework we use today. Install it when it helps you more than it helps them and plan your access with cards like 'Terraforming' so you can increase your chances of finding that specific card, as decks can run more than one field if needed."
He saw Alexis's eyes flick, approving the precision; Bastion tilted his head two degrees, auditing and agreeing with the explanation. Silence held for a beat longer than usual. Crowler recovered first, tapping the cane once. "Correct. Comprehensive. And mercifully free of the words 'do the thing.'" A few light laughs chased along the benches.
He reached for the class roster tablet at his elbow, scrolling with a finger. "Mr… Ashford." He glanced up. "Julian Ashford." The pause was deliberate. "The same Julian Ashford in last night's administrative note."
Julian didn't overplay the reaction. "That's me, sir."
"Mm." Crowler made a small sound of interest that wasn't quite approval yet. "And I am given to understand you… engaged one of my Obelisk pupils last night."
"He played well." Julian said, and meant it. "I played better."
No turn count. No scoreboard. No quip or mockering. Crowler's expression tracked the restraint. Something in his shoulders unwound by a notch as he set his tablet down.
"Very well." he said, and the tone had shifted by a few degrees, the way a conductor's baton angles differently at a competent section. "Back to our outline."
Julian returned to his sit as the professor launched into examples: Sogen, Yami, Mystic Plasma Zone. The way stat shifts translated to tempo and forced trades. The cadence of his lecture picked up: less defensive now, more like the rhythm of a man who enjoyed the mechanics of a thing when he wasn't busy defending his pride.
Julian listened and watched the room. Syrus had sunk into his seat and was slowly rising again, relief diffusing the panic from his posture. Jaden slouched with a performative put-upon sigh until Alexis glared at him, then he straightened just enough to pretend he was paying attention. Bastion annotated in that invisible way he had, eyes making notes his hands didn't need to.
Crowler swung the pointer toward the projector. A diagram of zones lit the screen. "Since we are all very clear, now, on the rule for Field Spells, let us address common misplays. Player A has a field spell in the field. Player B activates a Field Spell of his own. Player A chains Mystical Space Typhoon to the activation. What actually happens when the Chain resolves, Mr. Ashford?" The prompt had an undercurrent: show me you really know it.
Julian obliged. "Typhoon doesn't 'negate', it destroys the Field Spell before its activation finishes resolving. Because a Field Spell must be face-up on the field at resolution for its text to apply, removing it mid-chain means none of its effects resolve, including any 'When this card is activated' text. And since no new field successfully resolves, there's no replacement check, so any existing field-spell already on the field stays in play."
Dr. Crowler's lips pursed, then curved with reluctant approval. "Concise and correct, Mr. Ashford. Timing and board state. Very well." He rapped the board with his knuckle. "Miss Rhodes: give me two strategies that live or die by their Field Spells."
Alexis didn't hesitate. "Gravekeeper's with Necrovalley, it locks graveyard manipulation and stat-boosts their lineup. Second, Counter Fairy strategies built around The Sanctuary in the Sky: the Field prevents battle damage to your Fairies and is the key text a lot of their Counter Traps check for to turn on their best lines."
"A model answer." Crowler said, pleased. His gaze slid. "Mr. Misawa — suppose you know the opponent has a chainable removal like Mystical Space Typhoon set. You still need your Field to matter. What's the correct line?"
Bastion folded his arms. "Don't give them the perfect window. Bait the removal in a low-stakes moment with another card. If they hold it, pivot: back the Field with some actual negation like Magic Jammer or Spell Shield Type-8. You can also go for redundancy, running Terraforming to replace the first copy immediately if it's lost. This can be specially nasty in decks like your own, sir, as with Geartown, you invert the problem. The destruction of your own Field becomes advantageous, and you follow it with one more field spell to have the best of both worlds."
Crowler tapped the chalk once more, satisfied. "Class, note the pillars here: timing, protection, and redundancy. Don't ask a card to survive a window where it cannot. Either remove the window, guard the window, or be ready to reopen it with the next copy. And…" he added with a thin smile, "recognize when your Field Spell is better as tinder than wallpaper."
"Very well. Let's see if today's lessons sunk." Crowler started. "Mr. Truesdale?" His tone softened a fraction when he returned to the red row. "What have we learned today about Field Spells?"
Syrus swallowed. "Don't… just play it because it's in your hand. Play it when it makes the field help you more than it helps them, and if you assume that your opponent doesn't have a good response. If that's the case, bait the interaction or maybe don't play it at all."
"And how many can be active?" Crowler added.
"One." Syrus winced, then corrected himself. "One total. If a new one is activated successfully, the old one's destroyed… by the rule, not an effect. So you can't treat it like it's still there for chains."
Crowler let his hand hover over the handkerchief and then lowered it. "Acceptable." The word, for him, was generous enough.
He walked to the corner of the stage and rested his palm on the lectern. "Duel Academy is not merely a museum of powerful cards. It is a place for disciplined thinking. Understanding when not to press a button is as important as knowing where the button is." He didn't look toward the red seats when he said it, but the sentence drifted there anyway.
"Before we proceed…" he added, turning to the roster again, "two administrative notes. One: if you have questions about rulings, consult your guidebook" he tapped the spine of a thick manual "before consulting your crush or your conscience." A few laughs. "Two: some of you have begun writing your story here in bolder ink than others." His eyes passed very deliberately over the Ra section and then returned to neutral. "We do not judge chapters by a single paragraph. Keep writing."
Julian felt the attention without needing to return it. He kept his gaze on the screen and the neat geometry of zones. But privately, he logged what Crowler had just done: not praise, not yet: but a public reframing. From 'Slifer embarrassment' on his own loss to 'disciplined thinking'. From 'Obelisk lost' to 'bolder ink'. It wasn't an absolution. It was the opening of a door in a hallway he'd been told was closed.
The lecture flowed on. Crowler quizzed pairs on interactions, Union monsters with Equip limits under Skill Drain, Continuous Spells versus activation timing, the difference between 'negate' and 'destroy'. Alexis's answers landed with surgical precision. Bastion's phrasing was the sort that textbooks envied. Syrus, when called again, got through an explanation without stalling; his voice steadied as he reached the last clause and found it waiting for him.
When the bell finally chimed, the hall exhaled. Students stood, conversations blooming like the noise had been waiting under the silence the whole time. Crowler gathered his notes with brisk hands and then, to Julian's surprise, chose not to flee the room. He stepped down from the platform and intercepted them at the aisle's mouth.
"Mr. Ashford." he said, in a voice he might use for a promising lab sample. "And Mr. Misawa. A word."
They paused. Crowler didn't waste time. "Your explanation was… thorough. Your restraint, likewise. Duel Academy has… expectations of comportment as well as of competence. Keep both in mind." The last sentence, thinly veiled, wasn't for them alone. It was a classroom reminder drafted as a compliment.
"Yes sir." Julian said.
Crowler's eyes narrowed - not in suspicion, but in appraisal. Then he glanced toward the white rows, as if recalculating head counts in his head. "There are — unfortunately — structural limitations in certain accommodations." Dormitory quotas. The blue jackets meant patronage as often as merit. "But we have channels for advancement. You will be assessed by consistent demonstration, not just an evening's headline." A dry breath. "I suggest you continue to… demonstrate, and show restraint."
He pivoted to Bastion. "Mr. Misawa, I expect you to compete for top marks in every section."
"I'll try to make that expectation redundant." Bastion answered.
"Good." Crowler's gaze cut back to Julian, a final measure. "Class dismissed."
He swept away, coat flaring just enough to feel choreographed.
Jaden sidled up as the aisle began to move. "Okay, not gonna lie, that was a pretty slick save." he told Julian, like the compliment was an admission he hadn't planned on making. "Also, you used, like… twelve words when three would've worked."
"Three would've been wrong." Julian said.
"I'm fine with wrong if it's fast, it's not a duel anyway." Jaden said, then grinned when Alexis rolled her eyes at him.
"Fast is fine" Alexis said, shouldering her bag, "as long as it is correct."
Julian adjusted his strap. "Lunch?"
"We still have professor Banner's alchemy class." Bastion clarified.
"Oh, yeah. Tell me again why we have alchemy lessons in this academy?" Julian questioned, annoyed. "It's not even on the curriculum of any regular school."
"No idea, but I'll ace the class anyway." dismissed the other yellow boy, finishing the interaction.
As they filed out into the brightness of the corridor, a few white jackets clocked Julian with a different kind of interest than the morning's curious glances. Not warm. Not hostile. Calculating. The academy had taken its first long look at him and hadn't looked away.
The morning rolled into Professor Banner's first "Alchemy for Duelists" lecture: equal parts eccentric trivia and earnest metaphors about transformation. It bled neatly into the lunch hour, the cafeteria buzzing with day-two gossip and replayed duel clips. By the time trays were cleared and plans were made, the group had agreed to meet at the campus card shop for their first real look at packs and singles.
The bell over the card shop chimed as Jaden and Syrus shouldered in ahead of Bastion. Shelves ran in crisp rows, booster boxes shining like candy under glass, single-card binders arrayed behind the counter like museum cases. The whole place smelled faintly of that wonderful new card smell, printer ink, and toasted bread from the sandwich station near the back, an aroma that felt, somehow, like school spirit.
The place hummed with the soft whirr of display cases and the quiet beeps of DP terminals. Posters for recent sets layered the walls, a big vinyl banner behind the attendants announcing: "DRAWBREAD GRAND OPENING SPECIAL! Grab a bundle, get a sandwich - one lucky loaf is the Golden Eggwich!"
"Hey, hey! Welcome duelists!" Dorothy sang out, popping up from behind the front counter with an armful of shrink-wrapped bundle boxes. Sadie, beside her, offered a professional nod and gestured toward a row of scanners. "New students! Welcome to Dorothy & Sadie's Card Emporium and Culinary Corner!"
Sadie, calm where Dorothy sparkled, gave a smaller nod. "That's not exactly its name, but it's the right spirit. First-timers get a tour if you need it. Or you can browse. Prices are marked in DP, but you can use money if you wish so, standard conversion-rate. Any duel wins will post to your account within the hour."
"We will be making so many DP purchases." Jaden declared, spinning toward the glass displays like a kid in a candy store.
Syrus hovered, wide-eyed. Bastion folded his arms, already reading placards like they were lab notes.
They were almost ten minutes into comparing bundle options when the bell rang again. Julian slipped in, a little breathless.
"You're late." Bastion noted, not looking up from a placard.
"Sorry. Ran into… extracurriculars." Julian replied. "Two more first-years from Blue. It was… educational."
Syrus blinked. "You dueled again?"
Jaden was also surprised, but for a different reason. "Two more Obelisks before lunch?"
"After lunch." Julian corrected.
"You didn't miss much." Jaden said, grinning. "Unless you wanted the one copy of Polimerization with the alternate art and the misprint. I called dibs. For science."
"Of course you did." Julian slotted in beside them, eyes flicking across the case. The shop had their stock in sensible tiers: commons in long boxes, rares sleeved and labeled, high-end pieces taped into hard plastic cases with tiny red stickers that made your DP balance sweat. A side stand had today's re-stock board scrawled in chalk.
"And how were the matches?" Syrus asked, excited.
"One Monarch player and one with Six Samurai. I won against both, but the match showed I'm lacking some firepower in my list. A mistake I intend to correct right now." He turned to Dorothy. "What's the best value to start, bundle-wise?"
Dorothy set a bright yellow box on the counter. "Starter Bundle A: Ten mixed packs across the current campus rotation, one single promo from the shop pool up to C-tier, and… " she held up a laminated ticket with a smiley loaf "a voucher for one Drawbread sandwich. Flavor's random, but one is the Golden Eggwich." She waggled her eyebrows. "The lucky one has an A-tier rare single tucked in the wrapper. All for just 1000DP!"
"Bundle first, singles later." Bastion murmured pointedly toward Julian.
"Agreed." Julian said. "I'm not paying singles prices before I see what variance gives me."
"Same!" Jaden slapped his band against the terminal. The reader beeped; Sadie confirmed the deduction and handed over a bundle plus a bread voucher. Syrus followed, hands a little shaky, and took his own box and voucher like they might float away. Bastion and Julian tapped next, a neat stack of boxes piled up on the counter.
"Drawbread's at the back." Dorothy said. "Pick your loaf after you crack packs. Or before. Dealer's choice."
They commandeered a corner table. Jaden fanned his first pack like a magician. "C'mon, Liquid Soldier…"
"You don't have one of these?" Bastion questioned.
"Nope, still running good-old Bubbleman. Oh, and Ocean." Jaden replied. "But I always have room for one more!"
Plastic tore; the crisp smell of new card stock filled the air. Pack after pack snapped open, the rhythm a kind of communal drumbeat.
Julian sorted with the detached precision of someone evaluating tools, not trinkets. Commons in one pile, uncommons in another, anything playable to the left, everything flashy but irrelevant to the right. No duplicates of things he already owned went into his "keep" row; those slid automatically to a "trade" stack.
"Hit anything?" Bastion asked without looking up.
"Nothing much, a little bit here and there." Julian said, and then he stilled. He slid one card from the fan, eyes narrowing. "Well, that helps."
He set it down where the others could see: Chaos Grepher (DARK/Warrior/Level 4/1700 ATK/1600 DEF).
Syrus leaned in. "That one's good, right?"
"For me?" Julian nodded. "Very. Especially if I can get my hands on the payoffs of the strategy."
Jaden whooped from his own stack. "Emergency Call!" He thrust the card up like a trophy. "I wanted one more of these! This shop rules."
Bastion pulled a foil and considered it clinically. "Forbidden Lance. Not glamorous, but versatile."
"Into the keep pile." Julian said. "I'll trade for that if you don't need it."
"I'll consider it." Bastion replied, lips quirked. It would be hard to part the boy with such versatility.
A few packs later, Julian's fingers paused again. He drew the next card free: Chaos Sorcerer (DARK/Spellcaster/Level 6/2300 ATK/2000 DEF).
"Huh." he said. "Variance is in a generous mood."
"Is that… a Chaos thing?" Syrus asked.
"A fine monster and a removal tool all in one." Julian said, noncommittal, but he couldn't stop the small smile from edging in. Two stones in the same wall. It would certainly help his current list while he didn't have a complete archetype for himself.
Jaden, meanwhile, had assembled a tidy row of HERO spells and low-level bodies. "Skyscraper! That's two. And nice! 'R - Righteous Justice' too!."
"Careful with that." Bastion said. "Conditional removal requires board discipline."
"Board discipline is my middle name." Jaden joked, then immediately got distracted by another foil. "Okay this one's my middle name. Reinforcement of the Army, with the alternate art too!"
Bastion's hits skewed control: Summon Limit, a Solemn Judgement, some stall tools. He eyed Julian's side pile. "I'd trade for one of your spare Book of Moon if you open it."
"I already run two." Julian said. "Any extra will be yours."
Syrus's pulls were mixed - some decent Machines, a couple of battle tricks, and a shiny card he held up like a sunrise. "Limiter Removal!"
Jaden whistled low. "This is dangerous fun."
Syrus frowned. "Dangerous?"
Julian tapped the card. "Double your Machines' ATK for a turn, then they die at End Phase. If you don't make good use of it, you're essentially nuking your own board for nothing. High risk, high reward."
"Oh." Syrus said, and then looked thoughtful for a moment instead of scared.
"Drawbread?" Dorothy called from the counter. "While you're riding that pack high?"
They migrated toward the glass case where neat rows of wrapped sandwiches sat under a heat lamp, each one in a silvered plastic foil with a tiny sticker with the academy's logo on it. None said Golden Eggwich, that was the point.
"One random each." Sadie said. She handed them a little plastic tray and a stamped slip to redeem.
Jaden pointed at a wrapper shaped like a football. "This one's calling to me."
"You say that about all your draws." Bastion observed.
"Because they're all calling to me!"
Syrus picked carefully, as if the wrong bread might bite him. Bastion, ever pragmatic, chose the squarest, most structurally sound loaf. Julian took a triangle that looked aggressively ordinary.
Back at the table, they unwrapped in unison. Jaden's was spicy chicken with a Desperate Tag inside. He took a heroic bite and immediately fanned his mouth. It was a good backrow from him, protection and summon coiled in one. Bastion's got a tofu sandwich but with a good prize: Mirror Force. He already had two, but one more would certainly go well in his trade pile. Julian's was egg salad with a suspicious glint… Oh, just mayonnaise. And the card inside, a Book of Moon.
"It seems like your luck went into my bread, mate." he pointed out, jokingly. "I'll accept that Mirror Force of yours if you wanna trade. Judgment works as well."
"I'll give you both if you add your Trap Dustshoot and your Karma Cut." proposed Bastion.
The two cards were valuable but Julian wasn't the biggest fan of conditional pieces or cards that needed discard (a hand advantage maniac at his essence). "Deal."
While they traded cards and were eating their bread, Syrus peeled his wrapper more slowly. When finally unwrapped, the paper shone - no, glimmered, like the printing press had hiccupped glitter. Inside, a gold-edged sticker winked back: GOLDEN EGGWICH - CONGRATULATIONS!
Syrus froze. "Uh."
"Buddy?" Jaden leaned in. "Did you just?"
"Open the insert." Dorothy called across the counter, trying not to sound too excited. "If it's the Eggwich, there's a card tucked in the inner sleeve. They are protected in a case due to their higher value."
Hands trembling, Syrus slid a little packet free. He cracked the seal with surgical care and drew out a single card whose art was all black wings and prismatic lightning. Chaos Dragon Levianeer (LIGHT/Dragon/Level 8/3000 ATK/0 DEF).
"Whoa." Jaden said. "That's like… that's like if Blue Eyes had an edgy cousin from the future."
Bastion adjusted his grip to read. "Requires LIGHT and DARK monsters in the GY to Special Summon, different banish combinations produce different effects… yes. High ceiling. Also, it interacts with the same resource split you've been exploring." he added to Julian.
Syrus looked down at the card, then up, uncertain. "I… don't even run LIGHTs." he admitted, sheepish. "Not really. I mean, not in a way that makes… this work."
"You don't have to decide now. Just enjoy your win." Julian said. "It still would go for a pretty penny. If I had the money, I would take the card of your hands for its worth right now."
Jaden was halfway through his sandwich. "Or trade it later." he said, talking around a bite. "If you don't think you'll use it."
Syrus looked at Julian's pile, like he wished to check it to see if something interested him.
"Not now." Julian said, because he could see the kid trying to force generosity into a shape it wasn't ready for. "Eat first. Shop second. Then we'll talk about whether it belongs with you, or whether it can become a pile of cards you'll actually play."
"A pile!?" Syrus questioned, stunned.
"I don't have a single card that would be worth the trade for you. Will have to compensate quality with quantity, but if you gather the tools to improve the non-engine part of your deck, both of us would win." Julian answered, telling the boy the cold truth.
Syrus obeyed, almost on autopilot, the big dragon standing like a tiny monument at the edge of his tray. They finished packs, cataloged pulls. Only then did Julian stand and drift toward the singles case.
They ate. Syrus's "golden egg" was, well… egg — soft, savory, buttery, a small luxury wrapped in foil.
"Now that you've seen what luck gave you." Sadie said, tapping the glass "What are you actually seeking? You still have a promo each up to C-tier from the bundle. Your choice."
Jaden ran to the counter and pointed at a card on the left. "Liquid Soldier didn't wanted to come in the draw, but it's here for me now!" Sadie smiled and kneeled behind the counter, grabbing his chosen card and removing it from the sleeve.
"You told me this morning one of the decks you were using was a Dinosaur one. I have a Fossil Dig back at the dorm. I trade it for your promo choice, what you think?" it was Julian's time to propose his own trade.
Bastion thought for a second. It was a pretty nice puzzle piece for a deck he wanted to test, but it wasn't a generic piece. He hadn't decided on a deck yet, so generic cards were more at his aisle. He was about to say no when Julian's words on the previous day came to his mind, on the matter of favours and friendship. And it wasn't a bad trade, 'Fossil Dig' itself was one of the possible choices at the counter. If he didn't used it himself, trading was always an option, especially for a new support like that. "Sure, why not."
"Wonderful, this two please, Miss Dorothy." the middle-aged woman smiled at his choices and brought the cards a few moments later.
"Here you go, dear." Dorothy chimed. "He looks fierce on a playmat, it's a retrained version of a monster in our founders deck, from what I heard."
Kaiser Vorse Raider and Chaos Space. Two more pieces to gather power and dynamics for his strategy. Together with Sorcerer and hopefully Levianeer, they would pack a serious punch.
Syrus was still glancing at the display, decision paralysis still at full power. Reanalyzing the board himself, Julian pointed to a card on the bottom left. "Kiteroid. It's a part of your archetype and is a neat handtrap. You discard it to stop a direct attack and banish it from your grave to reduce the battle damage of another attack to zero. A two-in-one piece, what you think?"
Syrus' eyes followed Julian's gaze to the left, checking the card himself. His faint smile announced the choice was already made. "I like it. Miss Sadie, this one, please."
The cute attendant grabbed his card and the boy gleefully retrieved it and returned to the table. "Thanks, you know." started him scratching his head. "I tried to choose one, but there were so many good cards there."
Julian smiled and raised his hand dismissing the comment. If his opinion was enough to make a breakthrough in the boy's decision-making process, it didn't change the fact that in the end it was his own choice that sealed the deal.
The next twenty minutes dissolved into commerce. Bastion swapped his extra Dust Tornado for a Nobleman of Extermination and a handful of commons he claimed completed a thought experiment. Jaden traded a duplicate Bubbleman of his with another Slifer student for Emergency Provisions ("for science and sandwiches," he said). Julian turned his Fissure lot into a Sakuretsu Armor with another Ra student, and his extra copy of Prohibition into an Ice Dragon's Prision - a powerful battle trick released last week.
Dorothy and Sadie were a practiced double act through all the students at the shop. Dorothy praised pulls with unselfconscious delight ("Look at that shine!"), Sadie answered rules questions in clipped, exact sentences that made Bastion look faintly charmed. When a Slifer tried to haggle down the price of a Mirror Force single, Sadie simply tilted the binder so he could see the red sticker again. The conversation ended by itself.
It was only when the table's energy settled from shopping back into talking that Syrus glanced at the golden-sleeved card in his pocket again, then at Julian. "Um."
Julian shook his head once. "Keep it for now." he said quietly. "As I told you, I have nothing worth to trade directly for it, and it would be better for you to see my whole collection before choosing a list of cards for the trade. We'll deal with that tomorrow."
With the bulk of the trades and the sandwiches eaten, the table returned to a pleasurable silence for a moment. Syrus leaned forward, elbows on the table, chin over laced fingers. "So… archetypes." he said. "You said you'd… um…"
"Office hours?" Julian offered.
Syrus managed a smile. "Yeah."
Julian set his last pack aside unopened and flipped a notebook in front of him, drawing three columns with a blue fountain pen: Engine, Support, Tech. He wrote as he spoke. "Decks are machines. Some are puzzle boxes, some are blenders. The part that has to be in the deck to function, that's your engine. If you're playing Heroes like Jaden, your engine includes your Elemental Hero names and the Fusion suite. Ritual decks? Their engine is ritual spells and the specific bodies. If you cut those, the deck stops being itself."
Syrus nodded, absorbing. "So the engine is composed by the cards that give the name to a deck, like Mai Valentine's harpies or Vivian Wong's dragons!"
Of course he would list two of the most attractive female duelists of the previous generation. Having talent in duel or not, no one could deny that Syrus was a healthy teenager. Julian only nodded as he tapped at the 'Support' column. "Then you have the framework that helps the engine do the thing, but do not belong to a specific archetype or are not in the one you are playing. Searchers, extenders, recursion. For Heroes that's things like Reinforcement of the Army. For a Ritual deck, that might be stuff like Manju of the Ten Thousand Hands, Preparation of Rites, whatever finds and fuels. Generic staples like Pot of Greed, Graceful Charity and Monster Reborn also go here."
He then Tech. "Finally the Swiss Army knives. Cards that don't care what your engine is. They address people, not decks. These cards are you answer against a specific opponent, and probably would not be in your list against a different opponent. A card like Consecrated Light: cannot be destroyed by battle by dark monsters, and while it is up, neither player can summon dark monsters. If your opponent use only this type of monster and you hit him with this at the right time, it is either a removal or an instant win. Several tech cards can win a game by themselves. You choose tech based on who you expect to sit across from you."
"Like you chose a lot of removal spells to deal with Taiyou's Skill Drain." stated the boy, nodding.
"Exactly." Julian confirmed. "His engine was 'normal summons with high printed ATK plus Skill Drain.' His support probably involved things like Double Summon, Call of the Haunted… things that made more bodies. Other than the usual staples, you know."
"And his tech? He didn't knew your deck. How can you choose your tech cards if you don't know what he's playing?" asked Syrus confused.
Bastion took the lead for a moment, instructing in a serene voice that could be mistaken for a professional lecturer. "You do the opposite. His tech involved negation effects that said, 'Please don't touch my skill drain.' If you look at his list and ask 'how do I lose?', the answer is clear. While Skill drain is on the field, he's rendering most decks useless while make his own more powerful. Take this from him, and his strategy has more holes than swiss cheese. He acknowledged that and prepared accordingly."
"He prepared for that and still lost. What's the point, then?" asked the boy, still not grasping fully.
"A regular deck have two or three cards to remove backrow. He didn't knew that I prepared for his deck, my list had seven. It was more than his allocated space to protection. Running too much tech blindly can also backfire, he lost due to the information difference." pointed Julian.
"There's always how you play and the luck of the draw. Duels are not only statistics." Jaden added.
"And how you knew when to attack?" Syrus trailed off, hunting the thread.
"He was running a control strategy. He just waited for the card advantage on the field." Bastion supplied, lightly. "Information is a resource. You spend it, you get something back. If you're not getting anything back, don't spend it."
Julian nodded. "Different archetypes and decks work better with different strategies. Choosing an archetype is more than selecting cards you find pretty. Is a choice of playstyle, a statement on who you are as a duelist."
Syrus exhaled, thinking. "Oh. I chose vehicroid because they looked fun, like my saturday cartoons. So if I wanted to build something… not heroes." he said quickly, glancing at Jaden, "But, like… something that works for me… I should figure out what the engine is and then pick support that fits that engine, and then tech for the people I'm most likely to fight or for the cards that are more likely to be used as tech against me."
"That's it." Julian said. "And you don't have to do it all at once. Start with what you own. Ask, 'what does this do well?' What is the core card in my strategy? Then protect that."
Jaden drummed his fingers, grinning. "He makes it sound like we're in a lab."
"We are." Bastion said, pleased.
"Okay." Syrus said, braver now. He glanced at his deck box. "Then how do you… How would you beat… uh… a deck that— "
"Sy…" Jaden started, then stopped, realizing he didn't actually know. "Wait. Do you have a favorite deck?"
Syrus hesitated. "I… like Machines." he admitted. "But I… don't know. My brother…" He swallowed the rest, the shadow of Zane's silhouette passing through his eyes. "I can't even imagine beating him."
"No one is unbeatable." Julian said, without heat. "Not even the Kaiser."
The bell above the shop door chimed. A hush rolled across the card counter like a ripple; Dorothy straightened, Sadie glanced up from the register, and half a dozen students on the stools turned their heads in the same slow, magnetized motion.
Zane Truesdale walked in, uniform immaculate, expression even. The Obelisk blue sat on him like a title: earned, not borrowed. Alexis slipped in a step behind, eyes sweeping the clustered displays before finding Jaden and Syrus at the end of the aisle. She gave a small, acknowledging nod to the group; Zane's gaze came to rest on the open binder near Julian's hands, then on the boy himself.
"Not even the Kaiser." Zane repeated, voice calm. "Is that what you were telling my brother?"
Syrus jolted upright. "B-Brother… I… He was just…"
"It's all right," Zane said, neither annoyed nor reassuring. The title alone steadied the room. He turned back to Julian. "Humor me. If you were sitting across from me, how would you do such a thing?"
The students at the neighboring case went quiet enough to hear the air-conditioning. Jaden's grin widened like fireworks had been promised. Bastion slid his hands into his pockets, listening with the sort of attention he usually reserved for lab instruments.
Julian didn't reach for a card, didn't tap the counter. "Depends on the build." he said. "But if we take the clear lines, the ones everyone scouts first?"
Zane's chin tipped a millimeter. Permission.
Julian didn't stall. "The first thing is looking at your patterns by scouting." he said. "You have a long track record, lots of public duels and lines exposed. Human beings have patterns, even the best of them. Cyber Dragon into Power Bond. Powerful, but a high cost vulnerable to a simple removal or battle trick. Of course you could prepare for it, but your fusion takes a lot of resources, the chance I would have more is considerable." The yellow student didn't look frightened by the Kaiser presence, explaining his theories with similar precision as before "Overload Fusion into Chimeratech Overdragon? It has multiple heads for multiple attacks, but a battle phase stopper like Negate Attack or Threatening Roar would stop all of them in one go and your monster would be a sitting duck, it has no protection."
A couple of Obelisks at the singles case exchanged looks. Jaden let out a low whistle. Zane's face did not change, but the silence he gave was the silence of someone who expects you to continue.
"This trick also works against Power Bond. The main question when I see this card being used is: 'Can I live your Battle Phase?' and 'Can I make your End Phase kill you?' Even if you try to destroy my backrow, Threatening Roar can be chained and hold you hostage for a turn. You probably would be smart enough to use your removal before using a costly card, but that still would have bought me a turn without you committing. If you weren't… I would not need to beat your number, just to make you pay the bill you signed." Julian pointed, excited to have a discussion with the academy's ace and excited to hear his reprisal.
Jaden let out a low, appreciative "Ooh."
Alexis folded her arms, considering. "And if he hides his angle?"
"Then I track what he protects." Julian said. "If he babysits my backrow, I assume Power Bond. If he hoards bodies, I assume Overload or Fortress. I keep one answer for each family of problems and don't blink first."
"He also plays a Machine deck. Practically all of his monsters are of this type." Julian went on, glancing at the Academy's emperor once more. "If we play against one another, I'll be probably piling up stuff like Electric Virus and Acid Rain. System down would be especially nasty, basically banishing your entire field and graveyard for the measly price of one thousand life points."
Zane looked at the group for a moment. Maybe he had a response, maybe he didn't. Most probably the idea of continuing this open discussion about his weakness in a public space like that was something he preferred to avoid, and he would be right on that one. Specially after Julian showed some level of competence in his response. Maybe not a full equation, but enough leads to encourage others to try some problematic strategies. Zane's face didn't change as he stated. "You're proposing not a silver bullet, but a menu of lines."
"Yes. The deck I'd bring against you wouldn't try to be faster than your best draw. It would try to be harder to answer than your best draw." With a faint smile on his face the boy finished the discussion in a warm tone.
From behind the register, Dorothy quietly mouthed whoa at Sadie. Jaden's grin sloped broader, Syrus looked like he was trying to memorize every word by force of will.
Zane's eyes cut to his brother. "Syrus. Do you remember what I told you about Power Bond?"
Syrus swallowed. "Y-You said I didn't know the difference between playing a card and using a card."
"Do you understand that difference now?" Zane asked.
Syrus hesitated. "I… I think so. A little."
Julian tilted his head. "Crowler did half the work this morning." he said, glancing at Syrus. "He showed you that timing turns a strong effect into either a good move or a mistake. Field Spells that don't resolve because you 'Mystical Space Typhoon'd them on activation? That's the same lesson. You can play a Field Spell, and it does nothing if the timing is wrong. Or your opponent can chain a destruction at the right second and erase it. Same card, different outcome."
Syrus's shoulders eased a fraction.
"Power Bond's the same." Julian went on, voice even. "Playing the card is seeing 'double ATK' and slamming it because the number is big. Using it is asking: 'Do I already have lethal through their interaction? Do I have a way to make my Battle Phase safe? If not, is there a line where my End Phase can be dealt safely to avoid or reduce the cost?'"
Jaden tapped the counter thoughtfully. "So like… If your opponent has set up a battle trick you should wait and to have a card to deal with it or test it with a lesser engagement to try and bait them into revealing it. You hold the Bond for the Grand Finale where they can't skip your Battle Phase or make you faceplant into a Mirror Force." He looked up, bright. "That's kinda sweet, actually."
Zane didn't smile, but something in his eyes acknowledged the thought. "Instruction has value." he said. "But I believe in proof." He turned slightly, addressing Julian again. "A lesson is better learned if the student grasps the knowledge by his own merit. I prefer the method where the student finds the edges by cutting his fingers."
Julian nodded. "And I prefer the method where the student still has fingers when he gets it." No edge in his tone. "Different roads to the same top of the hill."
Alexis's gaze flicked between them. "He's not saying you're wrong." she said to Zane, de-escalating the situation. "Just that not everyone climbs the same way." Zane accepted that with a micro-inclination of his head.
Julian turned back to Syrus. "If you want a clean exercise? Build your turns around the question: 'What makes my Power Bond safe this turn?' If the answer is 'nothing,' then your job isn't to Bond. It's to make the answer 'something' by next turn. How? Remove their backrow, bait their responses, force their counters. Stand your ground and survive for a lethal strike when they no longer hold defenses."
Syrus nodded, wide-eyed. "O-Okay. Okay!"
Zane's attention settled on Julian once more. "You teach like you duel." he said. "Structured."
"I learn by building frameworks." Julian said. "And I like my frameworks to hold up under pressure."
"And yet, I don't see an archetype in your list." Zane's glance dipped to the binder again. "No single real engine, just a lot of glue."
"Correct." Julian answered. "I haven't had access to one I like - yet. My budget's been allowance-level and I wasn't in a fancy duel prep. The academy changes that. I don't mind a little glue if it keeps the structure intact while I source the beams for a true deck."
"That approach has a ceiling." Zane said, frank. "Archetypes exist because a machine purpose-built will outrun a kitbash when both are tuned."
"Maybe for you and a dozen more students here. Otherwise, kits expose the blind spots machines pretend not to have." Julian returned, equally honest. "If my engine is small and compact, I have a lot of room for techs. Might not work at a professional level, but until then I'll have a real core to call my own, I just have to find it. And that is the perfect place to do that." stated the boy, glancing at the two women on the counter and smiling.
Alexis's mouth tugged at one corner, clear approval at the lack of flinching from either side. Jaden rocked on his heels, delighted. Zane let the moment breathe, then inclined his head the barest degree. "You could be right and could be wrong, but optics matter. It doesn't go well for me to play first-years from other dorms. When you earn your blue jacket, I'll accept a challenge."
The shop went quiet in that instant. Not because someone had dared challenge the Kaiser, but because the Kaiser had just issued one himself.
Jaden's grin popped wide. "Dude… You made the best duelist on the island give you a challenge? That's a banger."
Syrus swiveled toward his brother, stunned. "You… invited him?" The shock melted into a shy, swelling pride at his friend and mentor.
Bastion adjusted his collar, analytical even in surprise. "Remarkable. Truesdale seldom extends conditions proactively. That's almost… a recruitment test."
Behind the counter, Dorothy's eyebrows flew up; Sadie covered a small smile. Two Obelisks by the singles case traded quick looks. News like this wouldn't stay in the shop for long.
Alexis's eyes flicked to Julian, then back to Zane. "You don't set that bar for just anyone." she said, reading the weight of it.
"I'll hold you to that." Julian said, not swaggering — just certain. "Save one of those jackets for me, might happen sooner than you think."
Zane gave the faintest nod, formal as a seal — and the room's buzz returned all at once, brighter, charged with the knowledge that a line had just been drawn for everyone to see.
A flicker of amusement touched Alexis's eyes; Syrus looked like he'd been told his birthday was tomorrow and also today.
Alexis checked the clock by the door and cleared her throat. "Before you four forget — PE in thirty." She arched a brow at Jaden. "Don't be late on day two."
"Wouldn't dream of it." Jaden said, absolutely dreaming of it.
Zane touched the door, then paused, gaze sliding to Syrus one last time. "I'll test you again when you can use your deck, not recite it." To Jaden he added, with the faintest trace of dry humor "And stop trying to hear sandwiches."
Jaden was near the snack area as he spread his hands. "No promises."
The bell chimed again as the boy left on his own, cutting a neat hole in the room's noise that slowly refilled with plastic crinkles and whispered trades.
Syrus watched the door, throat working, then turned back to Julian. He reached into his binder — hands careful, like he was holding something alive — and slid out a card in a fresh sleeve. "Um…" he said, cheeks coloring. "Before we go…"
He offered it. Chaos Dragon Levianeer flashed under the fluorescent lights, shards of light and shadow tumbling across its art.
Julian blinked. "Syrus, I already told you— "
"I want you to have it." Syrus said in a rush, then squared himself to own the words. "It… it doesn't fit my deck. Not now. And you…" He glanced at Jaden, then Bastion, then back to Julian. "You said nobody's unbeatable. I want to prove that. Not just to him. To me. You helped me understand the difference between just slamming a card and using one. So… please. Take it. Prove my brother that you're right in helping me. And I'll make you regret it later by beating you with my own deck."
Julian's first instinct was to push the card back into Syrus's hands. Then, a memory surfaced. A memory from scenes of the original anime, but in this world, of real life events. Yugi pressing Time Wizard into Joey's palms at the start of it all; later, after the Rare Hunter fell, Yugi offered the stolen Red-Eyes back and Joey refused on pride, vowing to win it back like a real duelist. Yugi kept the card and used it as a sign of their bond and confidence in each other. Cards weren't just cardboard in this world. They were promises you could shuffle, bonds you could draw.
He looked down at Chaos Dragon Levianeer. For a heartbeat, the cardboard felt heavier, like Syrus's sprit and confidence had its own gravity and fueled the card. "All right." he said quietly. "I won't treat this as a loan…" He slid the card into his case with near-ritual care. "...but as a pledge. And I'll hold you to that, too." he added, softly. "Make me see your evolution, and use my lessons to beat me at my own game."
Syrus shook his head, resolute. "It's not coming back." he said. "It's ours. One day I'll beat you, even if you're holding that when it happens."
Julian's mouth tipped into a small, genuine smile. Feeling the spiritual weight and power of his conexion with the card, he could draw a single conclusion. "Whatever my end-game deck becomes…" he thought "this belongs there: a marker of my first student and the faith he just placed in me."
"Right." Miss Dorothy said, tapping her watch with two fingers. "Miss Rhoades said you had class soon. Move it, first-years. Changing rooms aren't close, and coach Fontaine doesn't do excuses."
"On it!" Jaden scooped up his haul in a chaotic embrace and nearly knocked over a display. Dorothy caught it with veteran reflexes; he shot her an abashed grin. "Thanks, Dorothy!"
"Eyes up, elbows in, and don't run with card sleeves." she sang back. "Good luck out there!"
They filed toward the door in a loose pack, trading ordinary chatter like it was a relief after the sparring. Bastion speculated about the day's drills. Jaden wondered aloud if PE counted dueling stamina or actual running ("because my deck is in incredible shape"). Syrus asked whether it was normal for a first day to feel like a week. Alexis, still pacing them as they left, took a look at Syrus and noted. "You did fine today. Nerves settle. Practice doesn't. Keep training and you'll get better."
Outside, the sun had shifted just enough to push longer shadows across the walk. The breeze coming off the water tugged at sleeves and hair. They fell into step two by two: Bastion and Julian slightly ahead, Jaden and Syrus shoulder to shoulder, Alexis a fraction back and between, shepherding without making it look like shepherding.
Jaden nudged Syrus with a crooked grin. "So you just sponsored a dragon. That's big-league."
Syrus flushed, but he held Julian's gaze. "It felt right."
Julian took a hand to his deckbox and felt the weight once more. "I'll treat it like what it is. I won't let it tarnish."
Bastion inclined his head. "Patronage implies responsibility on both sides. He's invested in you, you're invested in results."
"And bragging rights when those results happen." Alexis added lightly to Syrus, a small smile taking the sting out of the tease.
"Oh, be sure he made his bet on a winner." Julian smiled. "I'll climb first and wait for you at the top. Don't keep me waiting for to long, your blue jacket will be waiting."
"You'll have to get your own first." Alexis stated, neutrally. "Don't take us for granted just because a few of us challenged you blindly. I might have to deal with you myself."
Julian's voice took a brazen tone as he replied. "I'll accept that at any time, hun. I would love it if you 'dealt with me' in any way you want. Duel or otherwise." he winked at the girl in a jokingly manner as she blushed, getting the double entendre in her own words.
Jaden laughed loudly, snapped his fingers. "New house rule: if that card seals a match, drawbreads are on you."
"Only if you don't eat mine." Alexis said, thankful that the red boy gave her an out after the yellow's smooth line. A ripple of easy laughter as the moment settled - warm, earnest, and properly honored.
They crossed the last stretch towards the academy. The Obelisk complex glinted on the hill to their left; the Red dorm's red roof peeked from beyond the palms to their right; the Yellow dorm sat behind, sun-struck and busy.
"Julian." Alexis said, matching his pace a moment, "about earlier." She didn't elaborate which part, still a bit taken by his former words. "You're not wrong that different people need different roads."
"Good thing..." he joked. "Imagine the traffic jam if they didn't."
She huffed a laugh. "Just… be careful not to mistake patience for softness. Some people hear 'you can get there' and stop at the first hill."
"Fair enough," he noted. "And some people hear they have to 'bleed for it' and quit before even finding their own path." He tipped his head toward Syrus. "He's still figuring out what kind he is."
"Most of us are…" she said. Her gaze flicked to his binder tucked under his arm. "Including you."
"Don't fret about it. I'm a perpetual work in progress." he said easily.
"Aren't we all." Alexis checked the time again, then clapped Jaden once on the shoulder, Syrus twice on the forearm. "Go. Locker rooms, five minutes. Don't make me jog."
"Yes, ma'am." Jaden said, mock-saluting. "C'mon, Sy!"
They peeled off toward the Red path, Jaden already telling Syrus some over-the-top story about a middle-school dodgeball legend who could curve a throw around a corner. Alexis watched them for a beat, the fondness unguarded, then turned her chin toward the Yellow path.
"See you on the track." she said to Bastion and Julian. "Try not to arrive with new bruises."
"No promises," Julian said, and she shook her head in a way that somehow meant both exasperation and approval before she headed for the Obelisk route, ponytail catching the sun.
Bastion exhaled. "That…" he said, "was an unusually dense hour."
Julian snorted. "Welcome to my world. Fasten your seatbelt, the Ashford airline waits for nobody and it's going for the top. You remember last night."
"I do." Bastion said dryly. "I am now actively trying to decide whether you planned it all or you're simply very good at surfing chaos."
"Why not both?"
Bastion gave him a sidelong look. "Because one is terrifying."
Julian grinned. "Then let's say it was the other."
They turned up the Yellow path, the breeze carrying the faint echo of the ocean against the rocks. For a few strides they walked in companionable quiet, each replaying different parts of the shop in their heads: Zane's steady weight, Syrus's tremulous resolve. Julian was especially taken with Alexis's cute reaction. He probably would try again.
Bastion broke the silence first. "You do realize," he said, "that telling Zane you'll earn Obelisk 'sooner than he thinks' is equivalent to scrawling your name on a very particular bulletin board."
"Good." Julian said. "I've always liked a deadline."
"It isn't a deadline." Bastion replied. "It's a standard."
"Even better."
Bastion shook his head, but there was a smile in it. "PE first." he said. "Then standards." He tipped his chin toward the track oval coming into view past the hedges. "And for what it's worth… your framework held. Syrus heard you."
Julian glanced back down the path where the red jackets had vanished. "He did." he stated. "Now we see if it sticks."
"Repetition." Bastion said. "It usually sticks with repetition."
"And with a reason to try." Julian said. "He's got one."
Bastion hummed an assent. "You, too." he added.
Julian didn't answer that. He didn't have to. The Obelisk blue on the hill said it for him, and the card in his binder, the one Syrus had handed him with both hands, said the rest. He touched the edge of his deckbox once more, as if to make sure it was really there, then let his hand fall and rolled his shoulders once, loosening muscles for a different kind of game.
"Come on," he said. "Let's show this blue we can run as well as lecture."
"Speak for yourself." Bastion replied. "I intend to pace myself with ideal efficiency."
Julian laughed. "Of course you do."
They hit the last bend toward the changing rooms, the sun warm on their backs, the campus alive in that particular way that meant everyone was moving toward something. Inside, whistles would blow, sneakers would squeak, and the day would flow on. But in the space between the bell and the next beginning, they walked as four first-years and one promise, stitched by ordinary talk, a sponsored dragon, and the quiet knowledge that the climb had started in earnest.