The arena breathed like a living thing: glass ribs arcing high, light-screens casting a sea-blue wash over tiered seats and the excited voices of students filling the place. Word had traveled fast: Ra's genius upstart vs. Obelisk's heir-apparent. The stands hadn't filled like a tournament final, but they'd thickened with a balanced weight: yellow jackets in careful blocks, blue jackets claiming sightlines like they owned them, the red band a looser knot of noise. A dozen different students DuelPads on record function ready to gather the event by themselves. The ref's dais glowed a polite white.
Clusters defined the room's current: Bastion flanked by Jaden and Syrus at the Ra rail; Alexis with Mindy and Jasmine in Obelisk prime, Zane a dark vertical line at her shoulder; a row lower, Chazz seated forward with hands tented, Taiyou and Raizou bracketing him like parentheses. The hum under everything wasn't just the arena's machinery: it was expectation, pure excitement unfettered. Two different theories of dueling were about to try to write facts on the same board.
The ref raised his stylus. "Contestants ready… Begin. First turn to Julian Ashford."
"Duel!" The call cracked in stereo, the grid flared, and counters flicked alive (Julian 4000LP/Daigo 4000LP).
Julian fanned his opener, lifted one card, and spoke as if he were reading a stat to a colleague.
"I'll start by activating the Spell Card Delinquent Duo. I pay one thousand Life Points and take two cards from your hand: one at random, one of your choice."
A purple glowing crest stamped itself over the field as the holographic projection of the card appeared. The cost pinged with that familiar, merciless chime (Julian: 4000 3000 LP). In front of the card, two clawed, spectral fiendish figures appear, one purple and one blue. The first laughed with a sinister chime and extended his hand to a phantom hand of cards in midair, clawing one of them.
Daigo's cards lifted into a holographic carousel over his disk. The randomizer blinked around them like a roulette, slowed, and plucked a single one. Its image appeared to the Obelisk student for a second before dissolving in particles, revealing to public view it was Vice Dragon.
"For the second…" Daigo said, selecting without a hitch. "Strong Wind Dragon is my choice."
Chazz's mouth tilted. "He took almost half of his hand in the first turn. The resource grind will be troublesome."
Taiyou's eyes tracked the grave banner update. "Yeah, and not fluff either. Free extender and snowball gone. Both together would give Daigo a 3400 attack piercing on turn one."
Down in the Ra block, Jaden puffed a low whistle. "Opening haymaker."
Syrus's fingers tightened on the rail. "That takes him to only three cards for his first turn."
"Four with the natural draw." Bastion said, calm and quietly satisfied. "But yes. The card deficit is a meaningful slope, one that Julian loves to abuse."
Julian didn't posture on it. He placed one monster face-down, its tan veil settled with the hint of a hooded silhouette beneath—and slid a single card, face-down, to his back row. The light caught the sleeve's edge and bled away. "I'll set one monster and add a backrow.".
He looked across and tipped a small nod. "Your move."
The attention-arc pivoted. Daigo drew, glanced once, and set his tempo with almost surgical economy. "Draw. Activate Continuous Spell: Solidarity."
The continuous spell unfolded on his back line, haze rippling over its surface. Tiny glyphs crawled the edge as a mechanical voice declared: Dragon-only grave confirmed, Dragons gain 800 ATK. With Vice and Strong Wind already sleeping, the boost locked.
"Daigo turned his opponent's bravado into a boost for basically his entire deck. Not a small one, too. Even basic level four monsters will pack a punch with that." Zane noted, still focused on the match.
He followed without pause. "Normal Summon: Horus the Black Flame Dragon LV4."
A surge of flames wrapped itself into a precise, compact dragon. Silvery, almost metallic wings snapped out, embers streamed off the edges. The lean figure shouldering 1600 ATK strode onto his lane, and immediately a glyph of energy flared on its chest, raising the attack power even higher due to the continuous spell (ATK1600 2400).
"Battle Phase. Horus, cut the cover."
The dragon knifed down. Julian's set monster flashed upright under the arc of the strike, a back coated figure with tan skin and dark hair in a loose knot. Its coat was raised above part of its head, in an attempt to hide its knelt diminished figure.
"Gravekeeper's Spy." Julian called evenly (DARK/Spellcaster/Level 4/1200 ATK/2000 DEF).
Claws hammered shield. 2400 into 2000, the sentinel shattered in a rain of multicolored pixels. But his torchlight leapt like a signal flare into Julian's deck.
"Spy's flip effect. I Special Summon another Gravekeeper's Spy from my Deck in Defense Position."
A second sentinel stepped through a portal of blowing sand, dropped to one knee, and raised its coat once more. The wall rebuilt itself as if the blow had only moved where the stones were.
Daigo slid a single card behind it, face-down with a solemn, but direct statement. "Set one." Before ending his turn, one more statement. "In the end phase, Horus LV4 destroyed a monster in battle. So, he levels up."
Horus's wings unfurled and the arena's light seemed to bend toward them. The LV4 body dissolved in a column of ember-bright glyphs, out of that heat a larger silhouette stepped through, blackened scales drinking the glare, eyes like kiln-doors: Horus the Black Flame Dragon LV6 (FIRE/Dragon/Level 6/2300 ATK/1600 DEF). The upgrade hit like a bass note through the stands, familiar to anyone who'd ever watched a Kaiba-era highlight reel: conquer, ascend, repeat.
"Horus the Black Flame Dragon LV6. Unfortunately, it's unaffected by Spell Cards. Therefore, his attack points stay the same." A low ripple ran across the blue seats as comments on each play were exchanged amongst the students.
On the Ra rail, Syrus swallowed audibly. "Already an advanced monster with a third of his starting hand ripped…"
"Clean sequencing." Bastion murmured. "Laddered through Spy for value, then parked a spell-proof threat. Even with the boost absent, it's a step closer to LV8. Julian has to stop the lock now, before it reveals itself."
Jaden's grin crooked back to life. "So no spells touch it, and traps are probably…"
"A problem too." Bastion finished softly, eyeing the single set behind Horus. "If that back row is Royal Decree, then the board asks for answers from a third axis."
In Obelisk prime, Mindy leaned toward Alexis. "Why does that feel unfair this early? Ugh, I hate these floodgates. Battle traps are one thing, those things don't even let you play."
"It's not unfair." Alexis said, eyes still on Daigo's posture. "It's good dueling. Might be frustrating to play against, but reducing the opponents' options is standard procedure. Julian knows this very well, both of them refusing to overplay their hands and analyzing one-another."
Julian's set lit the instant the evolution settled. "Still on your end phase… Set card open, Mystical Space Typhoon."
The hologram tore across the board as a corkscrew gust, rattling the glass and flaring the corners of Daigo's facedown. The card flipped just long enough for the cameras to catch the royal crest in castle walls, a governor's figure at a porch: Royal Decree, before the wind shredded it into glittered confetti.
A flicker crossed Daigo's eyes: acknowledgment, not annoyance. "Pre-emptive." he said, and the smallest lift at one corner of his mouth showed he meant it as a compliment. "You open your side before I can close it."
On the Ra bench, Bastion's approval was immediate. "Excellent timing. He sniped the lock before it could suppress his trap line."
Syrus leaned forward, fingers hooked on the railing. "That stops all traps, right? If that stayed, most of Julian's backrow tricks would've been dead."
"It would be a nightmare." Bastion confirmed. "Against a control pilot like Julian, Decree is a tourniquet. Cutting it now keeps his veins open."
"Snuff the fire before it can spread." Jaden grinned, hair ruffled by the holographic gust. "That's sweet, the temperature is rising."
Across the aisle, Alexis watched the tatters of Decree rain out and traded a look with Zane. "He read the set."
"Fundamentals." Zane said, tone flat but respectful. "Clear the choke point first. If you expect to play long, you don't let your opponent gag your answers."
Up in Obelisk blue, Chazz clicked his tongue. "Or he got lucky guessing."
Taiyou didn't take his eyes off the field. "Julian? The bastard didn't guess. Daigo runs multiple Decrees, everyone knows it. He did his scouting and played the odds. Daigo was at the End Phase, he couldn't set any more cards."
Raizou folded his arms, expression tight. "Either way, it means Julian came to this duel with a plan for Daigo, not just a plan."
"Not the first time, you know." appointed Taiyou, still a bit bitter.
Horus LV6 settled into its new frame, coils of heat still breathing off its chest plates; Daigo's side of the field was suddenly, conspicuously, without a king's edict to silence the other half of the backrows.
The ref's tablet chimed softly as the state locked. The heat of the board swung back to Julian.
"Draw." The card clicked against Juan's thumb, he slid it into a neat grip and assessed the situation. Trap Dustshoot, damn it. It seemed his deck was working against him again, to get this card one turn after Duo'ing.
His mind went into an analytical state: Horus LV8 couldn't be special summoned by other ways than the level-up process. It was more than likely that only one copy was in his deck. If he baited its summon and had a tool to deal with it, half of his lock would be down in a semipermanent fashion: the half he depended the most.
Julian let the crowd's noise fade to a low tide and slid a card facedown into his monster zone. "I'll start by setting a monster…" The panel flickered, resolving into a flat silhouette: Dekoichi the Battlechanted Locomotive tucked under a tarp of darkness. On paper it was just another set; in practice, it was a spring coil. If Daigo leaned in too hard, the flip would turn pressure into momentum, a quiet conversion of defense into a draw that Julian could parlay on the rebound. Several tools were present in his deck to deal with the issue, any would suffice.
He followed by easing a single card into his back row. "... followed by a set card." The hologram blinked into a blank, innocuous rectangle. Trap Dustshoot, holstered and hidden, a door left conspicuously unlocked. Bait. If Daigo respected his reputation, he'd think twice. An attempt to try to preserve the care the Obelisk student would have for its ace into enough time to act.
Either way, the line was laid: two quiet cards, nothing flashy, just the kind of small edges you stack until they become a wall. He tapped the rim of his disk. "Your move." The arena lights washed over the set card like still water, inviting curiosity.
Jasmine squinted. "He just set another wall?"
"He's forcing Daigo to spend real cards to move the positions. It's practically his signature already." Alexis said, a dry warmth under the words.
On the blue side, Taiyou hummed. "Still on that damn resource grind, calm like a monk."
Chazz didn't look away from the board. "He is standing his ground and waiting for the big guy. When LV8 hits the field we'll see what he can do."
Daigo didn't rush. He breathed in, let the crowd settle to a hush, and slid a card from his grip with that surgeon's calm he carried like a second uniform. "My turn, draw."
"I'll start with Pot of Greed." he said, placing it into the spell zone. The classic green jar ballooned above his disk, yawning wide with a giddy cackle, then slammed shut: two cards whisking into Daigo's hand. His gaze barely flicked down before he continued, voice even. "Followed by Level Up! Horus, ascend once more!"
The glyph of the black sun unfurled under Horus the Black Flame Dragon LV6, flames pulling inward like a held breath. The dragon folded its wings, iron-feathered pinions clicking into a sheath; then the arena drowned in a pillar of obsidian fire. When it cleared, the creature that remained was larger, even harsher. Its armor plates darker than steel with only the wings in a bright silver, its eyes molten-gold slits of judgment. Horus the Black Flame Dragon LV8 (FIRE/Dragon/Level 8/ATK 3000) arced its neck and loosed a dry, metallic hiss that vibrated in the ribs as its attack raised into absurd levels (ATK3000 3800).
"Textbook strategy for level monsters." Bastion murmured from the yellow section, analytic and a shade admiring. "Duo or not, he rebuilt pressure in two actions. And this one gets the buff from Solidarity and locks Julian out of spells."
Syrus swallowed. "That thing is humongous."
"His effect is even more troublesome than the stats." Jaden said, eyes bright. "No removal like Fissure, no searcher spells… Annoying to deal with, but at least he shut the decree in time."
Up in blue, Alexis had already shifted forward in her seat, elbows on her knees. Zane stayed composed, but the faintest tilt of his chin acknowledged the line's elegance: rebuild resource with Pot and narrow the odds of response, shutting down spells before the end of turn by the early Level Up.
On the opposite block, Chazz folded his arms as if bored, but Raizou leaned in despite himself. Taiyou's voice was low, almost impressed. "There it is. Once eight lands, spells don't matter. But for sure he was waiting for it."
On the field, Daigo was still moving. "Normal Summon, Twin-Headed Behemoth."
The twin-necked draconate thudded onto the turf, both maws uncoiling with synchronized snaps. Twin-Headed Behemoth (WIND/Dragon/Level 3/ATK15002300) glinted under the same Solidarity halo, cables of muscle thrumming.
"Battle." Daigo said, voice still mild. His words were soft, like the vocalization didn't need to be shouted to be relevant. He flicked two fingers, and the Behemoth lunged first. "Twin-Headed Behemoth: crack the sentinel, shatter his spy."
The dragon split its charge to a pincer, both maws slamming down on the closest face-down. The Gravekeeper faced the charge for a moment, but was beaten by the dragon's impetus and shattered under the double bite, threads of its cloak skittering across the grass until the hologram dispersed. No damage: defense had taken the brunt.
Daigo's hand cut forward once more. "Horus, erase the set monster."
The Black Flame Dragon's wings spread. Heat warped the air, grass flattening in a ring as it drew in that familiar black-red pressure, then unleashed it in a blade-straight jet of darkened plasma that carved down on the remaining face-down. Canvas ripped, steel rang, and the tarpaulin illusion blew backward like a dropped curtain as Dekoichi flipped up: the lantern-eyed engine chuffing once before the blast hurled it backward and broke it into shrapnel-light.
"Flip effect." Julian announced over the roar, steady. "Dekoichi draws me one."
The Lokomotive's headlamp pulsed; a slipstream of data spooled from the wreck into Julian's disk. He checked the fresh edge of cardboard: Witch of the Black Forest, and slid it into grip without blinking.
From yellow, Bastion allowed himself the smallest nod. "He turned Daigo's attack into hand advantage. Not enough to turn the game, but maybe a tool for it."
Syrus exhaled like a held note. "Hopefully he got an answer from that, he won't have a full defense next turn."
Across the way, Taiyou clicked his tongue. "I hate how even the fodder in his list pays him back. Annoying."
Horus wheeled overhead, banking to a halt with a predatory economy that was almost silent arrogance. Daigo's eyes had never left Julian. "Main Phase Two, set one card of my own." he said, calm as ever. A single card slid to the backrow and came to a precise stop. The hologram settled into the faint shimmer of a set.
He didn't add anything else. No flourish. Just: "Turn end."
The arena breathed again, pockets of chatter spilling like foam edges. The Obelisk block hummed with the thrill of seeing the LV8 establish; the Ra section saw the Behemoth trade and knew Daigo's resource math wasn't trivial, Jaden bouncing in his heel like a metronome, eyes flicking between dragon and empty of Julian's side.
Alexis's gaze tracked back to Julian, his face in a slight grin of someone with a plan coming true. Zane, beside her, spoke low enough it could have been to himself. "Daigo risked with the backrow and it paid off, it seems that's not a battle trick. At least Julian is getting resources to facilitate his answer."
Down on the turf, the heat from Horus still shimmered. Not real, but created mirage-like distortions of light, like they were on a desert. Julian rolled his shoulders once, letting the numbers and the feel of the board meet in the middle. Horus LV8 (3800) and Twin-Headed Behemoth (2300) now stared down his empty monster zone. He still didn't have a proper answer, but his new piece was enough to get him one.
Daigo, hands light at his sides, gave the smallest of nods, acknowledgment without condescension. "Your move."
On the blue side, Chazz's gaze stayed hard. "Daigo is fine. The kid's buying cards; Daigo's buying inevitability."
"Yeah?" Taiyou murmured. "Tell inevitability to ignore the facedown, he was lucky it wasn't a Mirror Force."
No one had swung at life points yet. But both had asserted their theories. The arena, throbbing gently with the grid's bass, leaned forward as the third turn loomed, and you could feel the posture of the duel settle into something precise and sharp.
Julian glanced once at his new card and then across at Daigo. "All right." he said, voice steady. "Let's go for it, draw!"
He didn't look to the crowd or the ref; his eyes stayed on the board. The card clicked into his hand: Thunder King Rai-Oh, Witch of the Black Forest, Chaos Space, Dimensional Prison. His plan slotted: conserve life, bait the offensive and get rid of Horus. In the worst case, Witch would still be able to get him the necessary tool to finish the game. Everything was under control, a perfect equation with almost every outlier in the game covered, at least the ones he knew the opponent played in more than a year of intel. Daigo's hand was empty, only his topdeck could fluster his plans.
"I'll set a monster." he said evenly, the corners of the card catching light a heartbeat before the hologram rose: a hooded silhouette crouching in shadow. Witch of the Black Forest hid beneath the veil. "And one more backrow."
Two new seams etched themselves into his field: the quiet weight of the flip-tutor, the coiled spring of the trap. He exhaled once. "Turn end."
"Mm." Daigo placed one palm near his deck as if he were testing the heat coming off a kiln. "Still on defensive, I see. Not what I was hoping for, man. A duel needs two players, you know."
Julian raised his shoulder as the second year robbed another card from his deck. "Draw." He looked at what he'd pulled and let a faint smile through. His eyes flicked to Julian's two sets. "You like forcing answers."
"I like finding them." Julian said.
"I'll start with Upstart Goblin." The rotund green imp flipped into being, bowing floridly toward Julian as glowing numerals ticked up over the Ra section (Julian LP: 3000 4000). The goblin tucked a sack of coins under its arm and winked out, as another card slid into Daigo's hand as cleanly as a kept promise.
From the Obelisk block, Raizou leaned toward Taiyou. "He had a line to press lethal. One attack from Horus would finish the game. Why feed him life?"
Taiyou didn't take his eyes off the turf. "Because you don't race someone like Julian when he's sitting on a thousand tricks." A thin smile. "You sand down variance first. Then you hit."
Down in red, Jaden made a face. "Man, I hate that card. It's polite and rude at the same time."
"Polite to the wrong person." Syrus muttered, watching Julian's total settle.
Daigo didn't pause. "And I'll trade the tempo back. Mystical Space Typhoon, blow away your newest set."
The sudden squall spiraled down over Julian's backrow, targeting the hologram place last turn rather than the older one, and tore it free. The pane shattered open to reveal barbed light coiling inside a rectangular frame before the storm shredded it to pieces: Dimensional Prison.
"Aw, that would've pitched Horus." Jaden said, deflating with a hand in his hair. "Brutal."
Bastion's eyes had narrowed, not disappointed so much as rebalancing. "Assume he still has a backup." He returned. "It's Julian, that monster set is not random."
On the Obelisk side, Taiyou tipped his chin toward Raizou, scarce bothering to hide his satisfaction. "Told you. Without the draw he just took, he might've blind-fired that Prison into his own boss next battle, assuming it was safe."
Chazz clicked his tongue, gaze razor-keen. "He aimed at the new set. Smart. The old one didn't fire last combat, so it probably wasn't made for battle. Clear the unknown, not the known blank."
Daigo lifted a hand; the twin-necked lizard flexed, but he stilled it with a minute gesture. "Battle." he said, calm as a metronome. "Horus, test the face-down first."
He sent his biggest body into the unknown. On the Obelisk bench, a couple of second-years blinked: it looked inefficient. Why not let the smaller behemoth test the face-down first? Zane didn't blink.
"He's playing around Old Vindictive." Zane said, voice low but carrying. "If it flips, it must choose the most dangerous attacker to destroy. Better to feed it your strongest now and leave the Behemoth free to damage later. He doesn't have lethal either way, at least that guarantees a hit."
Alexis nodded, lips tightening. "Minimal loss line."
The Black Flame Dragon LV8 dipped one wing and cut into a predator's glide. Heat washed the stands as it raked a line of black-red fire across Julian's remaining defender. The card flipped up in the blast: a cloaked woman with bramble-dark hair and eyes like old ink, hands cupped around a candle-glyph that guttered as the flame struck. Witch of the Black Forest (DARK/Spellcaster/Level 4/DEF 1200) took the full force and broke apart into sparks, then those sparks curled into a sigil and streamed like a ribbon into Julian's disk.
"Witch resolves." Julian said evenly, already thumbing through his deck. "I'll add a monster with less than 1500 defense to my hand. And I know just the thing."
Obelisk-blue watchers shifted, recognizing the shape of midrange inevitability: exchange a body for a bullet. When the card slid free, the camera caught its artwork: the lean, shadow-slick silhouette with a coiled cable tail.
Zane's gaze sharpened the smallest degree. "Electric Virus. One of the tools against my deck he talked about."
"What's that do?" Jasmine asked, leaning toward Alexis.
"You can discard it to take control of a Machine or Dragon for a turn." Alexis said, brisk. Her eyes stayed on Julian's fingers as he tucked the Virus into grip. "It's a clean answer to Horus that goes around both the spell lock and the possible decree."
Mindy's eyebrows climbed. "And Daigo's hand's empty. He has just one set. That looks… not great for him."
"His board still has the pressure." Alexis said. "But yes, now it's time for Julian to answer back."
On the yellow steps, Syrus's relief came out in a whispery rush. "He got the perfect one! He can steal Horus!"
Jaden bumped his shoulder. "And when Horus is yours, your Spells are free. That's the real swing."
Bastion folded his arms, voice soft but certain. "Indeed. The negation line suppresses Magic as long as Daigo controls it. Transfer control, and the floodgate becomes a tool for him, not against him."
Horus wheeled skyward, heat haze collapsing. Daigo's eyes were still on Julian, measuring — not rattled, just moving the abacus down to the next bead. "Proceed, Behemoth." he said, and the Twin-Headed Behemoth needed no second cue.
The dragon thundered across open turf, both maws open in a tearing bellow. It slammed through the gap left by the Witch and barreled past: no hologram to meet it, no set to trip it. Light numbers razored across the scoreboard as the impact rippled the grass (Julian LP: 4000 2300).
The Ra bench tensed; Syrus sucked air through his teeth and made a noise halfway to a whine. Jaden clapped his shoulder once. "He's okay. That was in his calculations."
"On purpose?" Syrus squeaked, then flushed. "Right, right. Because the… card he got is a counter. Life points are a resource."
Daigo let the echo breathe, then looked up, and for the first time all duel a thin smile touched his mouth. Not smug, but engaged. "So…" he said, voice carrying easily, "You finally found the tool you bought all this time for." He nodded toward Julian's hand where the Electric Virus now sat like a coiled idea. "Let's see if you can convert it. Make it a real game: two players sculpting, not one running and one chasing."
From the Obelisk block, Raizou shifted, grudgingly impressed at the challenge inside the courtesy. Taiyou's grin only widened. He loved this part, the point where good duelists stopped performing and started conversing with actions.
Across in blue, Zane's profile didn't move, but there was approval in the stillness. Invite pressure, test for poise. Champions are not the ones who never get hit; they are the ones who make getting hit part of the line.
Alexis exhaled, steady. "Now we see if Julian's theory translates."
Down in red, Jaden was already on his feet. "C'mon, man. Show him."
Syrus gripped the rail, knuckles white. The lifeline was in place: Virus in hand, Horus overhead, a single trap on Daigo's flank, one dragon on the ground. The board looked like a problem set with exactly one elegant solution.
Julian's eyes were cood as ice. He slid his fingers along the edge of his hand, feeling the weight of each option, and gave a single sharp nod. "Very well, ask and you shall receive. My turn."
The stadium quieted a notch as if leaning in to hear him. He lifted the searched card so Daigo could see it clearly. "I'll begin by discarding Electric Virus to the graveyard. Its effect targets a Dragon on your field and takes control of it until the End Phase." His fingers made a small, decisive point. "Targeting Horus the Black Flame Dragon LV8."
Electric script lit the arc of air between the duelists. The Virus itself, a floating capsule of blue light threaded with bright filaments — appeared over Julian's field and zipped, needling fast, toward the coiled flame on Daigo's side. The crowd made a sound: one part gasp, one part "ohhh" of delighted cruelty at the use of the clever tech.
Daigo's set card pulsed.
"Chain." he said, voice mild. "Book of Moon on my Horus LV8."
A gilded tome snapped open above the dragon; lunar runes spun down in a spiral and pinned. Horus sank as if dragged by gravity, wings folding. Light took it, and it vanished into a face-down slab on Daigo's monster zone (1800DEF, but hidden). The Virus skittered, searching for an eligible target, found none, and burned itself out with a frustrated crackle.
Syrus gaped. "He… he flipped his own monster?!"
"He erased the target mid-flight." Bastion said, admiration unmasked. "Virus can't steal what it can't legally point to." He tipped his chin toward Daigo. "That was surgical."
In the Obelisk stand, Alexis commented like she was hearing the conversation on the other side of the arena.
"Even so..." She pointed out. "Horus face-down means no spell pressure this turn."
"Window opened." Zane agreed.
Julian didn't contest any of it, he was already moving. "Activate Chaos Space." he declared, slotting the spell. "I send a LIGHT or DARK monster from my hand and grab, from my deck, a monster with levels 4 to 8 that cannot be normal summoned or set, as long as it has the opposite attribute of my discard. I'll send the LIGHT Thunder King Rai-Oh from my hand to the graveyard as cost, and add the DARK Chaos Dragon Levianeer to my hand."
The spell circled the field like a ring seen from orbit, galaxies threading into a lens that focused in the hollow of Julian's palm. The card came with a soft chime that felt, irrationally, like a breath of cold air inside the hot arena.
A ripple went through the stands as the camera cut to the card sliding into Julian's grip, its prismatic frame catching the stadium lights, his current ace: Chaos Dragon Levianeer.
Syrus popped halfway out of his seat, eyes bright. "He drew it, again!" The words came out breathless, equal parts pride and disbelief. "The card I gave him!"
Jaden threw his head back with a bark of laughter. "No way. That dragon keeps clocking in exactly when overtime starts." He slapped the rail. "Clutch city!"
Bastion's reaction was quieter—satisfaction tempered by data. "That's the limit test I wanted." he said, more to himself than anyone. "Independent instances, similar stakes… And yet, the outcome converges. Once more, Levianeer manifests as the pivotal resource right when the position demands it… almost as if summoned by design." He paused. "Or something behaving like design."
A tier down in blue, Taiyou leaned toward Raizou, squinting. "I don't recognize that one."
Mindy, a row above them, looked to the boy below and made a small face. "Same. Looks cool, but what does it actually do?"
Zane answered without looking away from the field, voice carrying with measured clarity. "Chaos Dragon Levianeer can be Special Summoned by banishing three LIGHT and/or DARK monsters from your Graveyard. Its effect changes based on the mix: if all three are LIGHT, you revive a monster, all three DARK, you shuffle a card from the opponent's hand into the Deck. For a mix, you destroy up to two cards on the field."
Taiyou and Raizou both nodded, the explanation clicking into place. "Got it. Thanks, Kaiser." Taiyou called up, genuine and unforced.
"Appreciated." Raizou echoed.
Alexis, following Zane's line of sight, allowed herself a small smile. "That card was a gift." she said, tone mild but intent. "From Syrus."
Zane finally turned, just a fraction. "From Syrus?"
Zane's expression didn't soften, exactly, but it shifted: computation making room for something like approval. "Then we'll see if my little brother's investment in his friend pays dividends." he said, neutrally.
Jasmine analyzed the explanation for a second and noted. "That card fits him."
Alexis's eyes stayed on Julian's hand, where Levianeer sat like a coiled verdict. "It does." she said. "Power with conditions. Timing-dependent, different effects for different combinations. Demands you plan in advance to cash in the best effect."
Jaden elbowed Syrus, grin huge. "Dude, your dragon's got main-character timing."
Syrus ducked, smiling helplessly. "I just hope it listens."
Bastion folded his arms. "Listen or not, the board state is primed. Mixed banish yields destruction: target rich environment." He ticked off with a finger. "Horus, Behemoth, Solidarity and one set. If he sequences properly and accounts for a possible reactive trap, Levianeer is the fulcrum."
In Obelisk blue, Taiyou whistled low. "So the kid's wincon is… the card the Slifer gave him." He shook his head, half-derisive, half-impressed. "Poetry's bad for your win rate, but it plays well from the stands."
"Save the epigrams." Raizou murmured, eyes narrowed. "Watch Daigo's set."
Zane said nothing more, but his attention sharpened, always interested when high-ceiling lines demanded precise execution. Across from him, Alexis felt the same taut expectancy: if Julian was going to prove he belonged in blue, this was the kind of line he had to walk: clean, informed, decisive.
On the turf, the air around Julian's disk thrummed as he squared the card with the rest of his hand, the ghost of a smile touching his mouth. The noise of the crowd receded to a fine, electric hush.
He looked up at Daigo. "Let's continue."
"Normal Summon." Julian continued, and slammed the next card. "Breaker the Magical Warrior."
The armored mage landed in a skirl of red light; a jewel in his breastplate flared, and numbers scrolled above him as a spell counter seeded and fed (ATK 1600 1900).
Julian's eyes flicked once to Daigo's lone face-down, mind sketching through contingencies. Without a word, he lifted a finger toward Breaker the Magical Warrior, whose gem pulsed like a heartbeat before dimming.
Julian slid three cards from his graveyard, the holographic projections of each materializing around him like orbiting ghosts: Thunder King Rai-Oh shimmering pale gold, Dekoichi the Battlechanted Locomotive and Gravekeeper's Spy trailing in violet. His voice dropped to a low command that carried even without volume, calm and absolute. "Light and shadow converge into one. A lonely soul ascends from within the storm. Take to the skies, Chaos Dragon Levianeer!"
The arena lights dimmed to a heartbeat thrum. Then, in a vortex of white and black energy, scales the color of stormglass unfurled. Levianeer roared to life, tendrils of radiant static writhing from its wings. The blast of air sent Julian's coat flaring behind him.
The Obelisk block erupted: some from awe, some from unease.
Syrus all but jumped from his seat. "Yes! He brought it out again! My card's on the field!"
Down on the turf, Julian extended an arm. "Levianeer: effect activate. Destroy his monsters!"
The dragon's wings snapped outward, twin spirals of light and shadow interlaced, then detonated in a symmetrical flare. Horus the Black Flame Dragon LV8 and Twin-Headed Behemoth were both engulfed. Daigo's field evaporated in a wash of static and smoke.
Mindy clasped her hands. "He's done it! Julian wins!"
Her excitement was contagious; even Jaden threw his fist up.
But Zane's voice cut through the roar, calm and instructive. "Not yet. Levianeer can't attack on the turn it's summoned when it uses that effect."
"Oh…" Mindy blinked, deflating slightly. "So close."
"Close enough." Alexis said softly. "But the field's his, full control."
Julian snapped his fingers toward his other monster. "Our esteemed Kaiser is indeed correct, Levianeer cannot attack this turn. Then it's your cue, Breaker. Slash him!"
The armored sorcerer lunged, blade slicing a crimson arc. The hit connected cleanly. Daigo's LP counter flashed down as he braced against the projected shockwave (Daigo LP: 4000 2100).
Dust settled. Daigo straightened, eyes gleaming with genuine thrill. "Now this…" he said, grin widening. "THIS is a duel."
The crowd roared its approval, the energy cresting into cheers and whistles. In the Ra section, Jaden and Syrus clapped shoulders, shouting over the noise.
Julian simply exhaled, expression composed, coat still fluttering from the aftermath. "Main Phase Two," he said evenly, sliding a hand over his cards to confirm position. "That'll do."
He looked across the field at Daigo. Two duelists, no walls: only the rhythm of strategy between them.
"Main Two." Julian said, and now he did touch that red jewel on Breaker's chest. "I'll remove the counter to destroy your Solidarity."
Breaker's sword banged against the floating emblem; cracks spidered through it, then widened with a ringing sound. The emblem burst; the residual aura around Daigo's slot went cold as the buff winked out. Breaker's numbers ticked down (ATK 1900 1600).
"And in my End Phase." Daigo added. "Twin-Headed Behemoth returns for you with 1000 defense."
A smaller, flickering version of the creature coalesced on Daigo's side, more memory than body, crouched low. The overlay marked its DEF at 1000; its twin throats hissed, but it looked only half-real.
Julian let his hand fall to his side. "Turn end."
The beat that followed was a pivot in the room's physics: everything felt very slightly different, as if the oxygen ratio had changed. Daigo drew.
His gaze flicked to the card and stayed there. For a moment, half a heartbeat, Julian saw the competitor and the craftsman split: a line of calculus behind calm eyes, a yes/no hinge turn, then the return of the serene mask. Daigo lifted the card so the dome cameras would catch it cleanly.
"I'll banish Horus LV4 and Vice Dragon from my graveyard." he said, "To summon Blaster, Dragon Ruler of Infernos."
A fissure walked open in the arena floor. Lava-red light and ash belched upward as a colossal dragon shouldered out of the breach, its wings a storm of sparks. The heat that washed off it made the nearest spectators lean back instinctively.
"Ah." Bastion said softly. "The Ruler line."
"Not good, more damage." Syrus said, even softer. "Breaker is still in attack."
"At least Solidarity was outed." Jaden said. "His attack is still lower than Levianeer."
"Battle." Daigo announced. "Blaster, attack Breaker."
Molten breath bathed the armored mage, the ruby gem on his breastplate flashed once, then cracked and ran like glass under a torch. Breaker went to shards. The numbers on Julian's disk tumbled (Julian LP 1700 500).
The strike's after-thunder rolled across the arena. Alexis exhaled. "He cut it to a two-turn clock. If Julian can't close next turn, Blaster might do it for him, Daigo still has dragons on the grave."
"Unless the Levianeer runs him over first and runs with the game." Mindy said, trying on confidence.
Daigo's expression did not change. He pointed at the small, spectral Behemoth crouched beside his ruler. "I'll stay. End turn."
Julian's hand hovered over his deck for a fraction of a second longer than usual—the only tell on his body. He'd stripped the buff, cleared the boss, forced a respawn line; he'd also eaten 1200 for the privilege and now stood at the lip of defeat.
"My turn, draw." The card slid free with a sound like silk. He didn't grin. He didn't even look relieved. His eyes focused, and something in his shoulders eased. Not relaxation, exactly, but alignment.
"Pot of Greed." he announced.
"Oh no, what does it do?" Daigo ironized.
The audience laughed. A few of the Obelisks who'd studied the period after the Kaiba-era tournament footage remembering the meme about the laughing jar. Two new cards dropped into Julian's hand, green shine fading: Fissure and Denko Sekka.
"Normal Summon Denko Sekka, defense mode." he said, sliding the card onto the disk. The storm-cloaked shrine-warden snapped onto his field, hair and charms whipping in phantom wind. "While she's face-up, if I don't control a set Spell or Trap Card, you can't set one or those either. And set spells and traps on the field can't be activated."
Zane's eyes narrowed a fraction. "He's sealing the answers."
"Fissure." Julian continued, the old card blooming on the disk in sepia-toned gravity. "Destroy the monster with the lowest Attack on your field."
A crack split Daigo's side like a fault line and swallowed the Twin-Headed Behemoth whole. It let out that double-throated hiss and vanished, leaving Blaster alone—a mountain of fire in a field of glass.
Julian lifted his chin. "Battle. Chaos Dragon Levianeer, attack Blaster."
The two titans met like storms colliding. Chaos fire, white and black braided in electric veins slammed into the Ruler's furnace breath; the projection tech deepened the color to flame-blue, then to a white so bright it made the present close their eyes. When the light cleared, Blaster was in pieces, falling like slag (Daigo LP: 2100 1900).
A ripple of noise broke into cheers. On the Slifer bench, Syrus bounced on his toes; Jaden punched the air.
"He flipped it! He flipped it!"
Bastion did not smile. "He did." He tapped a knuckle against his forearm, thinking. "And he locked the back row. Daigo's chances for a comeback are low… but not null."
"That's it for me, turn end." said Julian, neutral.
Daigo stared at his deck for a heartbeat that stretched thin. He had no back row to lean on: Denko's presence smothered traps and the ability to lay new ones. No Behemoth recursion, Fissure took the smallest and left the titan to crash. His Life rested at a value low enough to be erased in a single attack of the dragon. The eyes of the Obelisk student body were needles in his back.
He drew.
No flinch. No theatrics. He lifted the card into the light.
Green.
Julian's pupils tightened.
Across three benches, four conversations stuttered and stopped. The Kaiba-brand drones nosed closer, feeding the main board a crisp zoom so even the last row could see it: the knotted ivy, the rings, the chain.
"I activate Snatch Steal." Daigo said, clear enough for the recording.
The chain screamed across the field, green lights blooming along each link as if fed by the arena's power grid. It cracked around Chaos Dragon Levianeer's throat, bit in, and dragged. For an instant, the dragon's code-lines flickered, white over black, black over white — then the sigil on Daigo's disk flared, and Levianeer moved, slow and reluctant, to face Julian.
There was no immediate murmur this time. There was a jagged, collective intake of breath that sounded like the whole audience had swallowed glass.
Syrus's voice came very small. "He… took it."
"Luck." Chazz said flat, but the edge of respect under it was real. "Or destiny, if you believe in that stuff."
"Blaster effect, banish two more dragons to special summon it again." the volcanic presence raised once more, spreading its massive wings in a mighty roar.
"Battle." Daigo said, and for the first time all duel the serenity in his voice had something under it. Not triumph. Not glee. A single clean line of will.
Chaos Dragon Levianeer, now under the Obelisk banner — lowered its head and launched.
The blade-bright arc of the stolen dragon slammed into Denko's guard. The shrine-warden held… then buckled, shattering into holy paper and light.
"Blaster, finish the game." the creature roared, exhaling molten energy into the yellow student, diminishing his life points to zero (Julian LP: 500 0).
Across the arena, Daigo inclined his head. Respect. No taunt. No hand raised for cheers. He simply acknowledged the duel and its edge-thin finish.
"Good game." he said, and the mic caught that he meant it.
Then he turned his disk off, let the weight of silence sit on his shoulders for exactly one breath, and walked toward the center, toward the referee, toward the offered post-duel handshake.
"Direct attack… duel over! Winner: Daigo Sorano!"
The gridlines finally faded. Levianeer dissolved into motes on someone else's side of the mat. The scoreboard locked on Julian's 0 LP. For a few seconds all the noise was out there: Obelisk cheers, scattered gasps, the neon boom of defeat and triumph layered together. Inside the arena, Julian it went strangely quiet.
He powered down his disk and let the weight of it settle against his arm. Across the centerline, Daigo exhaled once, then walked over with measured steps and offered his hand.
"You navigated me into a corner." Daigo said, voice steady, no gloating in it. "Then luck sent me a rope. It happens." A quick, respectful tilt of his head. "You duel like someone who's going to be a problem later."
Julian took the handshake. "You won like someone who already is."
That put a genuine glint in Daigo's eye. He released the grip and turned, acknowledging the stands with a small salute before heading for the exit tunnel, Obelisk blues swarming him with congratulations.
The crowd began to pour out in layered currents. In one section, Chazz crossed his arms hard enough to creak leather. Taiyou murmured something to Raizou, half-impressed, half-relieved. On the opposite side, Zane watched in stillness, unreadable, while Alexis, Mindy, and Jasmine leaned forward over the rail, faces open with the complicated look of people who'd come to see skill and had gotten a reminder that the game had teeth.
Down on the floor, Jaden reached Julian first, Syrus almost tripping to keep up.
"Dude…" Jaden said, breath rushing out in a laugh that wasn't amusement so much as awe. "What a wild flip. You had it, you totally had it… then boom, rope-a-dope from the topdeck."
Julian's mouth twitched. "That's one way to put it."
Syrus's fists were bunched at his sides, eyes bright and wet. "I… I'm sorry. I mean, I know you played it right. Levianeer was... it should have…"
He didn't have the sentence. Julian rescued it for him with a nod. "It did its job." he said quietly. "It just did it for the wrong side, at the wrong time."
"Luck is a variable." Bastion said, arriving at a measured pace, already rearranging the duel into columns in his head. "Not noise, not anomaly: variable. The ending was low-probability but not absurd. You built toward a high-equity board and lost to a single, shallow-branch line that only exists because of one draw. Statistically coherent." He paused, softened. "Painful, but coherent."
Jaden clapped Julian's shoulder. "Translation: you played great, the universe decided to be funny, and you're going to stomp next time."
They started toward the western tunnel with the dispersing crowd. The cool air licked away the last of the ozone tang. Somewhere behind them, the ref's table beeped as logs finalized and the arena went into a reset cycle.
Halfway up the ramp, Alexis and her friends met them at the merge. "That was amazing." Alexis said first. No pity in it, just respect. "On both sides. The way you broke his line open with Levianeer… most people would freeze. You found a line."
"Then I froze later." Julian said wryly. "Involuntarily."
Mindy winced in sympathy. "Snatch Steal is so unfair sometimes."
"Only if you're the one getting snatched." Jasmine said. "Otherwise it's… you know, justice."
Alexis's eyes narrowed at Jasmine; Jasmine emitted a small, innocent noise and looked away.
Two steps above them, Zane had waited, the current of other students parting around him. He spoke without preface, his voice carrying just enough to reach Julian and no one else.
"Champions plan for luck, not against it."
Julian met his gaze. "I planned around most of it. It's impossible to cover absolutely everything."
Zane's chin tipped a fraction. "Plan deeper, then. Someone who fight with every breath to beat the odds can never be favoured." A beat, then: "And you'll need a list that bends with you, not one that only meets opponents halfway. Being too reactive like this only makes you more vulnerable to a bad draw."
He pivoted and left, coat cutting a dark line through light like a blade. Alexis watched him go with a look that said of course he would phrase it that way.
In the concourse, the noise diluted into dozens of overlapping little stories: who drew what, who saw what, who was right. Chazz drifted by with Taiyou and Raizou, chin up like a weather vane that refused to admit the wind. He threw Julian a look that wasn't smug. Smug would mean he'd enjoyed it. This was more like noted.
"Could've been me." Chazz muttered to no one in particular as he passed, and Taiyou murmured something back about lines and outs and percentages. Raizou, always the loudest, added: "You had him against the wall, but he pulled the exact card when needed." Then, almost grudgingly: "Good duel, Ra."
Julian let them move on. He wasn't collecting public opinion today.
They reached the mouth of the tunnel, light slanting gold over the plaza. The day was peeling away into evening; the ocean beyond threw the color back like a second, horizontal sky.
Syrus hovered at his elbow. "I… know it's not my place to say..." he began, small voice.
"It's fine, mate." Julian cutted, and surprised himself by how easily that came out. He glanced down at Syrus and managed a real half-smile. "I'll tune the list. And I'll tune me. I knew my current list had limits, but they were lower than expected."
"That's the spirit." Jaden chimed in. "By the way, I'm starving. And wanting a duel. But mostly starving."
"We've eaten a couple hours ago, Jaden." Bastion retorted, and the red boy just raised his shoulders.
"The body wants what it wants."
Bastion, who had been silent for a few steps, cleared his throat. "For what it's worth…" he said. "The line you took to dismantle the Horus pressure was correct. Your resource map was sound. The fact that luck neutralized it doesn't indict the map, it just reminds us there are more things at stake than only our plan. You know, like we planned to test." A flicker of dry humor. "Zane's point about flexibility stands, though."
"Yeah, both things can be true." Julian said. The words felt oddly consoling: two rails for the mind to run on instead of one. "Adapting a whole deck is expensive, especially when I don't know yet what I'll play. But let's start looking for the changes."
They spilled into the open plaza, where the student streams braided and unbraided around benches and vending stands. The Blue-Eyes Burger canopy hummed a neon dragon in the dusk. Music from somewhere else on campus floated in on the updraft from the cliffs.
Alexis fell back a pace to match him for a few steps, her friends veering toward a cluster of Obelisk girls arguing animatedly about whether Daigo should have held the Book of Moon earlier. "You handled the loss well." she said, not as comfort, but as observation.
"I don't think I handled anything." Julian said. "It handled me." He let out a short breath that wasn't quite a laugh. "That's… probably good for me."
She considered that and nodded once. "It is."
Ahead, Jaden had already started the food chant. "Burgers. Fries. Refill soda. Recovery plan!"
Syrus glanced back at Julian, uncertain whether to switch lanes. Julian tipped his head toward the neon. "Go. I'll catch up."
"Okay!" Syrus brightened, then hesitated. "Hey, um… thanks for letting me be upset for you."
"It's mutual." Julian said. "We're all learning how to hold each other up around here."
Syrus flushed, beamed, and ran after Jaden.
Bastion lingered one heartbeat longer. "I'll write up some probability notes. Practical ones," he amended, as if preempting Jaden's return. "Not to explain this away. To quantify how much of it was variance versus deck topology."
"Of course you will." Julian scoffed, shaking his head in negative as disbelief. "Send them when you're done, please. And add a column for 'spirit variables', for my sake."
Bastion's left eyebrow climbed half a centimeter. "As a placeholder?"
"As an admission." Julian said. "That I can measure toward something even if I'm not measuring it yet."
For Bastion, that was close to poetry. He gave a small, satisfied nod and followed the others.
Julian stood a moment longer in the cooling light, the plaza's buzz rolling around him like surf. He could still feel the phantom pull of the Snatch Steal ribbon, the sickening slide of his own dragon across the line. The sting wasn't going anywhere tonight.
Good. Let it stay. Let it etch the lesson.
He looked up toward the Obelisk ridge, where the glass bridges of the blue dorm caught the last strip of sun, then down toward the sea, already going indigo. Somewhere between those two horizons was the space he meant to occupy.
Behind him, a step. He didn't have to turn to know it was Alexis again: her cadence was unmistakable, heels sure, pace unhurried.
"Next time." she said, stopping beside him, eyes on the sky instead of his face.
"Next time." he agreed.
"And you should know…" she added, "Daigo rarely smiles like that after a win. He respects what he respects."
"I noticed. He's a nice guy." He let the hint of a smile pull at one corner of his mouth. "But I plan to return the favor."
They stood in companionable quiet for a breath, the kind that let the world catch up. Then Alexis tipped her chin toward the burger stand where Jaden was already ordering like a man who'd lost two duels of his own and needed fries to cope.
"Go before he eats your share."
"I'll plan for that luck, too." Julian smiled once more and finally moved, the loss heavy in his pocket, the resolve heavier in his spine.
The plaza had mellowed into evening by the time the group finally left Blue-Eyes Burger. The electric dragon logo still pulsed faintly above the windows, its light catching on Jaden's empty soda cup as he spun it idly by one straw. Syrus carried the last of the fries; Bastion was already describing how the grease content would alter synaptic efficiency if eaten before a duel. Julian just listened, letting the chatter roll.
They turned the corner past the main promenade and nearly walked straight into Dr. Crowler.
The professor stood as if carved from porcelain and impatience, an entire stack of glossy pamphlets fanned under one arm. The bold header read: "Special Assessment Program: Merit-Based Placement Review." The fine print beneath it caught the last light like foil.
"Ah, Mister Ashford." Crowler said, voice syrup-sweet but careful. His gaze flicked across the small crowd of students at Julian's side. "How… fortuitous. I was just about to make my delivery."
He extended one of the pamphlets with theatrical precision. Julian accepted it silently, scanning the summary: A list of four Ra students scheduled to participate in an exceptional examination: written, practical, and duel alongside several Obelisks whose academic performance had not quite aligned with their dorm's reputation.
A dozen names were listed on the page, most of them unknown, probably belonging to second and third years. However, at the bottom of the Ra list was his own name: Julian Ashford.
Behind him, Jaden whistled low. "No way. You're on that list? That's the fast track to Obelisk!"
Syrus blinked between them. "Wait… like, promotion exams? Before the semester reviews?"
Crowler's smile thinned, polite but brittle. "The Chancellor's office has been inundated with complaints, I'm afraid. Whispers of… certain students remaining in the Blue dorm through financial influence rather than skill." His tone dipped into scandalized delight. "The administration decided to re-evaluate some placements. And, naturally, to offer a few promising individuals from lower dorms the opportunity to compete for those spots."
Bastion adjusted his glasses. "So, effectively, a controlled redistribution of dorm positions based on measurable performance."
"Precisely, Mister Misawa. You do catch on." Crowler inclined his head just enough to be condescending. Then his gaze returned to Julian. "You, Mister Ashford, will be among them. Your… extracurricular activities have attracted attention."
Julian folded the pamphlet once, careful not to crease the text. "I'll assume that's meant as a compliment."
"It's a recognition." Crowler said. "Though I must note— accepting a public challenge from one of our elite second-years was hardly prudent. Still, if you must lose, it is best to lose to quality." His smile flickered, genuine for half a breath. "And Mister Sorano is quality. A potential successor to the Kaiser himself. You did well up there."
Syrus frowned. "But Julian didn't even…"
Jaden elbowed him lightly, shaking his head. Crowler's attention had already shifted. "Do enjoy your evening." the professor said, gathering his papers like wings. "I must post these across the dorms before the night is out. Oh… and the written segment will occur not this coming week but the next. Study appropriately." He paused, considering the group, then added in a quieter tone that carried a trace of amusement. "It seems, Mister Ashford, you'll have your chance to prove whether that yellow jacket was ever meant for you. You're the only first year Ra student on that list, make it count."
With a sweep of his coat he was gone, the sound of his heels clicking a metronome down the marble path.
For a moment none of them spoke. Then Jaden let out a breath somewhere between a laugh and a sigh. "Man. Only you would turn losing a duel into an invitation to move up."
Bastion took the pamphlet from Julian's hand, scanning the details. "It's legitimate." he said. "Testing overseen by the Chancellor and faculty judges. Written knowledge, tactical reasoning, and dueling ability. No back channels."
"Sounds like your kind of test." Jaden grinned. "You live for this stuff."
Julian's expression was composed, but the spark in his eyes was unmistakable. "Maybe…" he said. "But money gathers more things and open more doors than simple dorm arrangements. I'll need to be careful."
"Good luck with that." Syrus said, earnest as ever. "They'll see what we see."
The breeze carried the scent of the ocean up from the cliffs. Around them, the last students of the day were crossing the plaza toward their dorms, voices fading into the blue dusk.
Julian looked down at the pamphlet one more time, his name beside the printed seal of the academy, and folded it carefully into his pocket.
"Two weeks," he murmured. "Let's make them count."
Jaden slapped his shoulder. "Then tomorrow we hit the card shop. We'll pool up our resources and you return it later. You're getting the Obelisk prep special."
Syrus laughed, still half bouncing with excitement. "Yeah, we'll help! Whatever you need!"
Bastion smiled faintly. "If they're measuring strategic merit, I doubt he'll need luck. But I suppose a study group wouldn't hurt."
Julian just nodded, gaze drifting up toward the hill where the Blue dorms gleamed under the evening lamps. "Luck never hurts." he said softly. "Even when you don't want to count with it."
The group turned together toward the dorms, the sound of their conversation trailing off into the sea wind as the campus lights flickered to life — another night, another test already waiting on the horizon.
The Ra dorm was quieter at night, but never truly quiet. Pipes ticked behind thin walls; a shower hissed down the hall; somewhere a window latch flexed and clicked in the sea breeze. Bastion walked with Julian to the common-room threshold, where the notice board still made public the statement made by Crowley before. About ten yellow students swarmed the copy of the paper on his hands, muttering excitedly at each other.
Bastion glanced at the board, then back at the pamphlet peeking from Julian's jacket pocket. "Two weeks…" he said. "We can do another round of testing in the lab tomorrow. Numbers first, feelings later."
Julian nodded. "I'll bring the 'feelings' if you promise not to grade them."
Bastion huffed something that might have been a laugh. "Sleep. And hydrate. Both improve memory consolidation by quantifiable margins."
"You're impossible. And that's something coming from me. Night, Bastion."
"Night."
Julian climbed the narrow stair and let himself into his room. The air smelled faintly of fabric softener and ocean salt; the blackout curtain he'd cursed that morning hung slack and useless, as if it too were tired. He paused in the doorway and studied the space the way he'd studied the arena: the wooden desk scarred with pencil grooves, the comfortable, but simple bed near the window, the tiny shelf with three books and a roll of card sleeves. This might be the last few weeks he'd ever see it from this angle. The thought didn't land as triumph or loss, just a data point that produced a ripple.
He set the pamphlet on the desk and powered up his DuelPad. The display warmed to life, a soft hum inside the chassis, the academy's deck database blinking into a grid of thumbnails and filters. He let the system auto-update, then leaned back, hands folded behind his head, and asked himself the question that had been trailing him since the plaza:
"If you're going to stop being "the guy with clever techs," what exactly are you going to be?"
Identity wasn't just logos and mascots, especially in this world. It was engines and redundancies, choke points and endgames. It was how your deck breathed.
He opened a blank list and typed a single header: Candidate Fusion Engines (cross-era).
He added the first temptation because honesty mattered more than pride: Elemental HERO… then deleted it immediately. Off-limits. Not because he couldn't pilot it, but because it wasn't his and, more practically, because it was someone else's. He would not spend the next year being "HERO-lite" across from Jaden Yuki.
Cyber Dragons, Ancient Gears… also off-limits. His future couldn't be someone else's echo.
"Okay." he muttered, thumb flicking the filter. "GX era will be hard. Lightsworn is a possibility, but does it pack the necessary punch in fusion-only? I think not. What remains…"
Shaddoll. He tapped it open. Flip-based Fusion with spell recursion, pseudo-grindy lines, bodies that replaced themselves, a fusion spell that punished extra deck summons. On-screen, Shaddoll Fusion glowed its now-familiar blue. He imagined the lines: set two, invite your opponent to overextend, then punish with a fusion that replaced its materials and generated a second body. The play pattern had a logic he appreciated: recursive, modular, indifferent to removal so long as you navigated your timing windows.
Invoked. He thumbed over to Aleister the Invoker and felt an uncharitable smile tug. Toolbox fusions keyed to attributes. A normal summon that turned any stray attribute into pressure. It was elegant like algebra: substitute value, produce outcome. In a world where attribute spread was everywhere, Invoked fed on scraps and made dinner. Ruthless consistency with Invocation, can pivot lines based on board state, plays well with other engines. But maybe too "clinical"? Would he just end up expressing the part of himself already overexpressed at the cost of spark?
Branded/Despia. He scrolled, confirmed release: yes, present here; sightings were rare but recorded. Branded Fusion into Lubellion or Albion, possibilities to super-poly with Albaz when the spell in the anime would be a Jaden-only piece? The appeal was obvious: an engine that wanted you to plan two turns ahead, then three, then fold the entire arc back on itself. But if Shaddoll was expensive, Branded probably would be prohibitive, that's even considering that it was already out in this world.
The archetype list went on and on: Frightfur/Fluffal, Predaplant, Gem-Knight, Gladiator Beast, Lunalight, Thunder Dragon, Dracotail. Even archetypes without extra deck dependency like Monarchs, Nekroz, Dogmatika, True Draco… Hours went by with only his scribbles on paper as the data points were analyzed in the DuelPad for the different options.
He didn't need a marriage proposal tonight, only a first date. But the Levianeer problem had sharpened his criteria. He couldn't just pick the engine with the prettiest math. He needed something that spoke his language and respected that the island's air had its own dialect.
On the desk, the pamphlet's corner lifted in the breeze. He anchored it with the DuelPad and opened a new note titled Cost & Path. DP wasn't infinite, and the academy's economy had its rituals. Card shop bundles. Tournament payouts. Dorm stipends. Gifts and promises, like the dragon sleeping in his side slot because a small boy had decided to believe in him. Every choice had a cost measured in more than points.
He browsed listings. Shaddoll Fusion. Rare, but copies existed in the campus for exchange. Construct: available, but expensive. Invoked pieces: Aleister always seemed to be everywhere and nowhere, like a rumor. Branded Fusion: two copies rumored in the Academy, both in Obelisk hands. A negotiation problem. He could solve negotiation problems, but it would take effort and something of similar value.
He caught his reflection in the DuelPad screen: tired, not unhappy. The adrenaline of the duel had long burned off, in its place was the familiar, steady hum that came after you finished an exam and knew you had both passed and missed a question whose trick you should have seen. Daigo had played like a man who trusted his deck's voice and his own hands equally. Julian had calculated his way into the same conversation, then watched a topdeck knock the wind from his lungs. Even Zane's comment: 'plan for luck, not against it' — had felt less like rebuke and more like an invitation to widen his aperture.
He tilted the DuelPad and reopened Thunder Dragon. If Levianeer was going to keep walking out of his deck to save his spine at the last possible second, there was an argument to stop pretending the dragon was only a guest. Thunder's fusion lines: Thunder Dragon Fusion, Hawk for extension, Roar for recursion, offered a way to formalize chaos. That was the paradox he kept circling: building systems that admitted luck not as an enemy, but as a resource you could bank when it visited.
Still, he hesitated. An engine wasn't a mascot. It was a promise. Choose wrong and the rejection would come not in dramatic failures, but in a whisper: opening hands that never quite connected, draws that arrived one turn late, topdecks that blinked at you across lethal and shrugged.
He slid the Thunder note under Branded/Despia and wrote: Maybe later if availability improves; keep testing Levianeer "pull" over next week. Then he reopened Predaplant and sketched a half-engine pairing: Patchwork line for card economy, a small toolbox of boss monsters that could be cast from different angles. He could hear Bastion mocking him for building a soup. He could also hear Alexis asking quietly if his soup tasted like him.
He scrolled. ABC-Dragon Buster. He stopped, felt interest prick. Union mechanics in a fusion shell, flexible removal, grind that didn't require you to shove your soul into the graveyard on turn one. More in line with Chazz than himself, but if we were on the manga route, probably he would stay with his spirit partner and use a Dragon deck to supplement it.
Julian set the DuelPad aside and leaned back in his chair, letting the glow from the screen fade into the dimness of the room. Outside the window, the sea breeze stirred just enough to lift the blackout curtain a fraction, reminding him of the mornings when the sun blasted him awake through that very fabric.
"If I'm going to pick a deck-identity, then it isn't just an engine. It needs to be an extension of myself, an expression of my spirit." He thought.
The concept of duel-monsters as mind-mirrors and spirit-mirrors had always lurked in his awareness: the Ka and Ba, the ancient concept of soul and energy, how a monster could reflect a duelist's core. In the anime he'd watched, the truly great Duelists didn't just drag-and-drop strategy: they aligned with something deeper. Yugi and his Dark Magician. Kaiba and his Blue-Eyes (even if he didn't believe in it, he still felt the connection, the duel with Ishizu made that clear). These weren't just tools: they were voices.
He knew the story of Ba and Ka: the Ba was the soul, the Ka the manifestation of one's spirit. Monsters, in that lore, sometimes were the Ka, summoned and battling with the weight of their summoner's Ba behind them. He also knew that in practical terms on this campus, many would dismiss that kind of language as fictional fluff. But Julian didn't. He had the privilege of knowing things others couldn't even imagine and that he knew were true here. For him, this piece of card art in his hand, for example. The Chaos Dragon whose wings had first brushed Syrus's outstretched fingers, carried a weight that confirmed what he saw on the screen.
He closed his eyes and thought of the moment Syrus had handed him the card. The little boy's eyes bright, the promise unsaid but present. "One day I'll beat you." Syrus had said. It wasn't a challenge to Julian. It was a promise to himself. Julian had accepted the card as a token of trust, not just of devotion, but of potential. And Levianeer had shown up already, at the moment he needed it most. Not because of luck strictly, but because a bond had created a margin for luck to operate. And yet, even with that weight, Levianeer was more of a Red-Eyes than a Dark Magician. His own signature was needed.
So now: when he looked at candidate decks, he wasn't just asking 'which is strongest?' He asked instead: 'Which can become strong with me behind it?' Because in this world, monsters aren't just cards. And he knew that. Even if his brain insisted on graphs and models, he felt the thing underlying them.
He let his finger hover over Thunder Dragon again. Because if his bond to Levianeer was storm-driven, then here was a mechanism he could model. Fusion chains and recursion, impact that came from less precise blocks, more lightning. And the name - thunder-driven forces. It matched chaotic tool-use but framed by design, which suited him. The spreadsheet version of rolling dice but knowing your distribution ahead of time. He typed a note: 'Thunder/Chaos Hybrid? Explore further.'
Still, the click-clack in his mind persisted: what of spirit? Of Ba? He rubbed his thumb over the dragon-card sleeve. The art shimmered like a glint in water. "A fusion deck for me..." he whispered. "Should reflect that. Should reflect me. What I protect and what I value." He imagined the game board in his mind: field zones, extra deck, hand; the tension of opening gambits and the explosion of payloads. He pictured plays where the engine fired, the opponent mulled, the cards piled, the turn ended. And behind each play a voice: This is me.
He shut off the DuelPad. The darkness outside the window deepened. He reached out and closed the curtain proper. The room's hum shrank further into isolation, letting him lean forward on his desk once more. The pamphlet in his lap whispered: Merit-Based Placement Review. He thought of the duel he'd lost. The match with Daigo, of the stolen Levianeer, of the itch under his ribs.
The Duels, the stats, the models… they mattered. He could never fully throw them out for pure luck and instinct. But so did the ghost-line behind them. That intangible whisper of why you played.
Yes, he wasn't going to figure everything out tonight. But tonight he built the skeleton of his next move. And tomorrow would come with a clear direction, or at least a plan for one.
"Models can meet the mystical halfway." he concluded softly. "But mystical still requires faith."
He placed the dragon-card face down on the shelf and made one final note: 'Look the library for clues into Ba and Ka and possible ways to manifest it safely. If necessary, as a last resource visit the abandoned dorm for a true supernatural encounter to try and jumpstart something.'
And then, as the surf sighed against the rocks outside and the dorm pipes whispered their midnight secrets, Julian lay back. The curtain still flickered. He closed his eyes.
Because whether you track your draws or chase your partner-spirit, the deck you build becomes the story you prove. And Julian's story had just turned its page.