Julian returned to the academy under a sky that looked almost apologetic.
The wind off the sea was mild, the sun bright without being harsh, the kind of morning Duel Academy liked to pretend was the norm. Students moved along the paths in their usual clusters, uniforms crisp, voices overlapping with the comfortable noise of routine.
It felt… normal. Which, after everything, was almost suspicious.
He adjusted the strap of his bag on his shoulder as he crossed the main courtyard, aware (without needing to look) that he was being noticed. Not stared at openly. That would have been gauche. But glances lingered a fraction longer than they should have. Conversations dipped, then resumed.
'So he's back.'
'Didn't think he'd recover that fast.'
'That's the one who collapsed, right?'
Julian didn't react. He didn't need to. He could feel it in the way the air around him shifted, the faint emotional static that came from curiosity edged with judgment. Not fear. Not respect. Assessment.
Last week, they had looked at him differently. A possible prodigy, the Ra student who had beaten several Obelisk duelists in succession. The one who had drawn a conditional challenge from the Kaiser himself.
Now, a single passage through the infirmary seemed to have rewritten the narrative.
Their memories right now registered not his respectable score, the Zane story or the fact that he had stood in that arena and kept going against the second-year's top dog. Just the fainting.
It was almost impressive, how selectively memory worked when it was convenient.
Before heading to class, he stopped by the central notice board. The exam postings had gone up early that morning.
A modest crowd stood in front of it. Obelisk students mostly, a few interested Ra lingering at the edges. Julian waited until the knot loosened, then stepped forward and scanned the list with a calm that surprised even him.
Written Examination - Tuesday at 2PM
Timed Duel Assessment - Wednesday at 4PM
Practical Duel Match - Thursday, check specific time
Beneath the pairings, smaller print detailed the logistics: 'The written examination and the timed duel assessment would take place in the East Wing of Obelisk's Male Dormitory. Yellow students were required to present themselves fifteen minutes earlier, escorted and verified at the entrance with proper campus ID. The practical duels will happen at the Academy's Central Arena.'
Julian exhaled slowly through his nose. So they weren't even pretending this was neutral ground.
His eyes moved down instinctively, already searching for the part that mattered.
Practical Duel Pairings. There it was.
Julian Ashford (Ra Yellow) vs. Dorian Caldwell (Obelisk Blue) - 16h (4PM)
Julian read the name twice. Dorian Caldwell.
The surname clicked immediately. Old money. One of those families whose donations had wings named after them. Not as loud and renowned as the Princeton Family that specific seemed to wish to be as loud as possible, but the signs were there. He'd seen Caldwell around before: tall, polished, always surrounded by two or three other Obelisk students who laughed a bit too loudly at his jokes.
Competent duelist from what he remembered. Not exceptional, but rarely underpowered.
From what he could remember, Caldwell hopped between decks the way some people followed fashion trends, cycling through whatever powerful new list was circulating or trendy in that month in the pro circuit. None of them bad, but none of them truly his.
A duelist propped up by access, not insight. Which, in a system like Duel Academy's, still made him dangerous.
Julian committed the name to memory, then stepped back from the board. That was when he heard them. Two Obelisk students passed just behind him, close enough that their voices were meant to carry.
"I heard he pushed himself so hard he fainted."
A pause. A chuckle.
"So desperate to climb the ladder he forgot to breathe, huh?"
"He wanted to get into the elite so much that he couldn't even stay on his feet."
Julian smiled. Not tightly or bitterly. In an almost parental way. Of course…
He turned his head just enough that they could see the expression, caught one of them mid-stride as their eyes met his. The smile lingered for half a second: polite, calm, unreadable…
By the time Julian reached the academic wing, the first bell was already ringing.
He took the stairs two at a time, not rushing, but not apologizing either. His body felt solid beneath him: no lingering dizziness, no weakness. Jinzo's energy did just the trick. Nightmare-Eyes rested quietly at the back of his awareness, present but unobtrusive, like a shadow that knew when not to move.
When he opened the classroom door, heads turned. The math professor paused mid-sentence, marker hovering near the board.
"Mr. Ashford." he said mildly. "Nice of you to rejoin us."
Julian inclined his head. "Apologies, sir."
No excuses, no explanation. He moved to his seat, slipping in beside Jaden just as the lesson resumed. Jaden leaned over immediately, voice barely above a whisper.
"Didn't peg you for the 'late dramatic return' type."
Julian shrugged with a little smile, setting his bag down. "First impressions are overrated."
Across the aisle, Alexis glanced at him. Her expression wasn't concern exactly, more a quiet confirmation that he was, in fact, here. When their eyes met, she gave a brief nod and turned forward again.
Behind them, Bastion adjusted in his seat, clearly restraining himself from turning around outright. Syrus, less disciplined, did exactly that.
"Uh… hey." he mouthed, relieved.
Julian lifted two fingers in a small, casual salute.
"Why did you show up late? It's not like you. Are you ok."
'Later', he mouthed back.
The class settled into its rhythm.
Julian listened, answered when called upon, took notes where it mattered. The material wasn't challenging, but that wasn't the point. What mattered was presence. Continuity. The quiet statement that whatever interruption had occurred, he was back inside the system now, and at full speed once more.
When the bell finally rang, chairs scraped back and conversation surged like a released breath.
Jaden stretched, hands laced behind his head. "Man, I almost missed boring classes like that. Makes everything else feel more exciting."
"That's… one way to put it." Jasmine said dryly from the higher row as she gathered her things.
Bastion didn't even bother pretending to pack slowly. He leaned across the aisle, eyes sharp with contained questions. "You were absent during the posting of the pairings."
Julian nodded. "I saw the match-up."
"And?"
Julian slung his bag over one shoulder, expression composed.
"Meh… you know." he said.
Syrus opened his mouth anyway. "That bad?"
Julian shook his head once. "No. Just… predictable."
That earned him a look from Bastion. Alexis tilted her head slightly, already reading between the lines.
"Predictable how?" she asked.
Julian glanced around the hallway, then nodded towards the exit. "Not here. Let's move."
They followed him out into the open air before he continued, voice lower but steady.
"There was never any risk of someone like Daigo or Zane showing up." He stated in a low tone, while walking the corridors with the rest of the group. "Every Obelisk taking this exam is in that position because there's doubt about them. About whether they actually belong."
"So that's good, right?" Syrus ventured.
Julian smiled faintly. "It means they're not the top dogs. It doesn't mean they're harmless."
Bastion's brow furrowed. "Resources."
"Exactly." Julian said. "When skill wavers, money fills the gap. Decks rotate, problems disappear, answers get… simplified. And that makes them dangerous in a different way."
A beat of silence followed.
"Okay," Jaden said at last, grinning like the word dangerous was an invitation. "Now I'm interested."
They filed out together into the hallway, the academy buzzing around them. Somewhere deeper in the building, the mechanisms of the exam were already turning: papers being developed, puzzles selected, history analyzed, etc.
Julian walked among his friends, posture relaxed, mind very much awake.
They didn't go far, just far enough. The path opened into one of the quieter courtyards between wings of the academy, stone benches warmed by the sun, trimmed hedges that looked ornamental but had clearly been placed to break sightlines. A place people passed through, but didn't linger in unless they meant to talk.
Julian dropped his bag on the ground and leaned back against the low wall, arms crossed. The others naturally formed a loose semicircle around him.
"Now spill it." Jaden said, stretching his arms over his head. "You officially have my attention. Who's the lucky guy?"
Julian glanced down at the folded paper he'd taken from the notice board earlier, then back up.
"Cauldwell." he said. "Second-year Obelisk. Competent, but as I said, not exceptional."
Bastion's fingers twitched, already cataloguing. "He used some Dark Armed Dragon variants for a while, right after the European International was won with it. Then Six Samurai, right when that new support wave dropped." He paused, brow furrowing. "There was also that Monarch stun build. Not long after the archetype was reprinted and suddenly everywhere wanted to try it out." He looked up at Julian.
"Each time, it wasn't just a deck. It was the deck. The one people were talking about. The one topping lists that week."
Julian nodded once. "Exactly."
Alexis crossed her arms. "So he doesn't build. He chases."
"He follows the meta." Bastion said, a note of disdain creeping in. "Not to understand it, just to stay ahead of whoever's climbing behind him."
Julian's expression cooled a fraction.
"Which means, his confidence doesn't come from mastery. It comes from timing and access."
Alexis frowned. "That doesn't sound like someone confident in their own style."
"It isn't," Julian agreed. "It's someone confident in their resources."
Syrus shifted uncomfortably. "So… what does that mean for the duel?"
Julian didn't answer right away. He was watching students cross the courtyard, Obelisk blues mixed with Rá yellows, posture and tone subtly different depending on who was walking with whom.
"It means," he said finally, "that he's not betting on outplaying me. He's betting on making sure the conditions favor him."
Mindy crossed her arms. "You think he's going to cheat?"
"I think he's going to try." Julian replied calmly. "Whether he succeeds is a different question."
Bastion tilted his head. "But during the duel itself, there's not much room for…"
"Direct interference? No." Julian said. "That's too visible. Too easy to trace. This exam exists because the academy wants to look fair."
Jasmine's expression hardened. "So the tricks come before."
"And around, yeah." Julian nodded. "Not during."
Jaden's grin faded just a little. "You sound pretty sure about this."
Julian exhaled through his nose. Not annoyed. Just… resigned.
"Look at who this exam is for." he said. "Obelisks on the edge of demotion. Ras who might move up. People whose entire identity in this place is hanging by a thread."
He met Syrus's eyes briefly, then looked away again.
"There are two kinds of students who end up there." Julian continued. "The ones who were placed too high too early. And the ones who were never supposed to be there, but bought or bullied their way in."
"And you think Cauldwell's the second kind." Alexis said.
"I know he is." Julian replied. "Maybe not originally. But he became one."
Bastion's voice was quieter now. "They call them parasites in the yellow dorm."
Julian didn't flinch from the word.
"Yes," he said. "Parasites hide behind influence and money to maintain their position when competence fails. They don't need to be the best. They just need to make sure no one better replaces them."
Mindy frowned. "That's… awful."
"It's efficient, though. And that's why it persists." Julian concluded.
Syrus swallowed. "So… what do they do, then? If they can't cheat in the duel?"
Julian shrugged slightly. "That's the part I don't know yet. And that's what makes it dangerous."
Jaden leaned forward, hands on his knees. "But you're expecting something."
"Oh, for sure." Julian said simply. "Because for someone like him, losing this exam isn't just losing a match. It's losing status. Losing protection. Losing the narrative that keeps him safe."
Alexis's jaw tightened. "So he'll do anything."
"Exactly." Julian said. "I don't know the method. I know the motive. And when motive is that strong, methods tend to appear."
A brief silence followed.
Then Jaden's grin came back. Sharper now, more focused.
"Okay," he said. "So we plan for that."
Julian's smile mirrored his, smaller but no less certain.
"That's why I wanted you all to know," he said. "I don't intend to be surprised."
He straightened, slinging his bag back over his shoulder.
"And if he really believes money and influence can substitute for skill…" Julian added, eyes cool. "Then this exam is about to become very educational."
The others exchanged looks: some nervous, some excited, some thoughtful.
Whatever was coming, it was clear now. This wasn't just about a promotion. It was about confronting the rot that decided who was allowed to stand at the top and who wasn't.
Bastion crossed his arms.
"So." He said, measured. "What's the plan?"
Julian was still leaning back against the railing, gaze unfocused, not watching the duelists below, but allowing the sounds at the academy itself reach him. "There isn't one. Yet."
Mindy blinked. "That's… not reassuring."
"I thought you just said you were sure he'd try something." Alexis added, arms folded, not accusing, just sharp. "You plan on fighting that without anything?"
"Of course not." Julian said calmly. "But certainty about intent isn't the same as certainty about method. Give me a sec, okay?"
Syrus frowned. "So what? You just… wander around and hope you trip over something?"
"No…" Julian stopped for a moment and thought about it. Then, he showed a small mischievous grin. "Actually, that's not the worst idea."
Bastion tilted his head. "People talk."
"Exactly."
He shifted his weight, eyes finally focusing on them.
"This place is loud if you know what to filter out. Rumors, complaints, bragging. Obelisk students don't even realize how much they telegraph when they think the system already belongs to them."
Mindy made a face. "That still sounds like fishing blind."
"It is." Julian admitted. "But you don't start by casting a net. You start by finding where the fish gather."
Alexis studied him for a moment. "And you think Cauldwell is careless enough to leave something lying around?"
"Probably not." Julian replied. "But he might be careless enough to assume no one who matters is watching."
That earned a short, humorless laugh from Bastion. "Arrogance as a data point."
"As a lifestyle." Julian corrected.
Syrus hesitated. "But even if people talk… that doesn't give you proof. Probably not even the full plan.. And that would not be enough to stop someone from pulling something shady."
Julian nodded once. "Which is why I'm not relying only on gossip."
They all looked at him.
Mindy squinted. "Julian…"
He sighed, already knowing what was coming.
"No. Before you ask: I'm not breaking rules, sneaking into dorms, or lurking behind corners with a trench coat."
"…That was oddly specific." Jasmine muttered.
Julian ignored that. "I just have access to… alternative information channels."
Alexis's eyes narrowed. Slowly. "You mean the Well folk."
"Among other things."
Bastion straightened. "You're planning to use spirits to gather intel."
"I'm planning to give them a game. It just happens to be in the Obelisk dorms, their future home." Julian corrected. "Gathering intel is a side effect of playing spy."
Syrus stared. "You're serious."
"Deadly."
Mindy looked uncertain. "Isn't that… kind of unethical?"
Julian didn't answer immediately. He considered the question, genuinely.
Then he said, evenly.
"Everyone uses the tools they have. Some people use money. Others go for influence. Legacy decks, limited prints and pre-release cards. I use curiosity, invisible friends, and a power forgotten over time."
He met her gaze.
"And before you worry: I'm not doing this to cheat. I'm doing it to cancel out an unfair advantage and understand what I'm walking into."
Alexis's expression softened just a little.
"You're saying this is reconnaissance. Not sabotage."
"Exactly."
Bastion nodded slowly. "Information parity."
Julian smiled. "Glad someone here speaks my language."
Syrus still looked uneasy. "But what if you find nothing?"
"Then I duel him fairly." Julian said. "Same as always."
"And if you find something?" Jasmine asked quietly.
Julian's amicable smile faded. Not into anger, but into something predatory grin.
"Then I make sure the fight happens on honest terms. One way or another."
There was a brief silence. The wind carried the distant sound of cards snapping into place.
Mindy broke it. "So what's the game?"
Julian's eyes flicked downward. For just a moment, something small and curious bobbed into view near his shoulder before vanishing again.
"Spy games, like I said." he said lightly. "Scavenger hunts. Guess-the-secret. Whatever sounds fun enough to keep them engaged."
Bastion frowned. "You're turning intelligence gathering into recess."
"I'm turning it into motivation." Julian replied. "You'd be amazed what one can do when it has a real drive."
Syrus hesitated, then asked the obvious question. "…Do they get anything out of it?"
Julian's expression softened again. "Of course. I'm not cruel."
"What kind of reward?" Mindy asked.
"No idea, it depends on who wins and what they bring back." Julian said. "But let's just say I know what motivates each of my little ones."
Alexis studied him. "You're really doing this, aren't you."
Julian shrugged. "I don't need details yet. I just need to know where to pay attention."
"And if this blows up?" Syrus asked.
Julian glanced back at him, calm as ever. "Then at least I'll know I didn't walk in blind."
They watched him for a moment.
Mindy finally exhaled. "…You're kind of scary when you plan like this. You're reminding me of that night at our dorm."
The predatory grin continued, small and unapologetic. "That's what happens when you stop pretending the system is cleaner than it is and do your part."
They broke formation naturally after that, drifting back toward the main buildings as the bell rang somewhere in the distance. Students flowed past them in waves: laughing, arguing, complaining about homework, blissfully unaware that anything about the academy might be worth questioning. Julian walked with the group, listening more than speaking.
"Give me a minute." he said casually. "Bathroom."
No one questioned it.
He peeled away down a side corridor, waited until the traffic thinned, and slipped into the nearest restroom. The echo of running water and distant voices gave him exactly what he needed: cover.
He locked himself into the last stall. The spirits of the Well didn't need to be called this time. They were already there. Soft presences blooming at the edge of his awareness. Watapon drifted close, followed by Happy Lover, Winged Egg of New Life, Petit Dragon and a dozen or other faces, their attention sharp despite their playful auras.
Julian smiled.
"Alright, guys." he murmured. "New game."
Instant attention.
"You know how we play hide and seek?" he continued. "This one's like that… but with spying."
Watapon tilted midair and vibrated his cotton-puffy antennae.
"There's a man in blue." Julian said, deliberately vague in tone but playful in intent. "Very important. Very smug and bad. And he got information he wasn't supposed to have."
That did it.
The spirits' emotions spiked. Indignation, curiosity and excitement all tangled together.
"So…" Julian went on, leaning into it. "Your job is to figure out how he will cheat at the game. Not to stop him, just to watch."
He raised a finger.
"Rules: no touching. No scaring. No pranks." A pause. "…Okay, minimal pranks."
Happy Lover spun happily.
"You follow him." Julian said. "You peek where he sleeps, where he meets his friends. If someone gives him something shiny or heavy or secret-looking, especially cards, you remember it."
Watapon puffed up proudly.
"And whoever brings me the best clue by tonight..." Julian added, voice lowering conspiratorially, "Gets first pick in tomorrow's game. Leader of hide and seek. Full authority, let's see if the guys can find you when you're coordinated."
The spirits practically vibrated.
"Oh, and bonus points…" he added, "If you find out when and where the secret thing happens."
Winged Egg of New Life let out a tiny, triumphant sound and darted upward like a rocket.
The rest scattered in a rush through walls, ceilings and vents, giggling auras trailing behind them like sparks.
Julian exhaled, shaking his head fondly.
"Love you kids." he muttered.
He flushed the toilet for show, washed his hands, and stepped back into the corridor like nothing unusual had happened.
By the time he rejoined the others, the conversation had shifted into lighter things: what classes they had next, a show Mindy saw in the night before, what was the best dish in the cafeteria menu today.
Normalcy wrapped around him again as the group returned for their second class. But now, beneath it, something was already moving.
At lunch time, the cafeteria was louder than usual. Not with chaotic and uncontrolled energy, just the usual shimmer of life and movement. Trays clattered, conversations overlapped, Duel Disks chimed faintly as someone lost a casual match in the corner. It was the kind of noise that made the academy feel normal, almost innocent.
Julian sat with the group near one of the long tables by the windows, his bag resting at his feet. He looked relaxed, but his attention was split. Part of it seemed to always be, these days.
Mindy was halfway through a story involving a disastrous shopping trip when Jasmine gently nudged her. "Sit first, talk later."
"I can multitask." Mindy protested, already taking a sip out of her drink.
Alexis laughed nervously, poking at her food. "You say that, but last time you multitasked you almost set a toaster on fire."
"That toaster was defective."
Bastion adjusted his posture slightly, eyes drifting toward Julian. "You gave them the instructions earlier?"
Julian nodded. "Right after the first class. Nothing complicated. Just… listen, watch, and report if something felt off."
Alexis sipped her drink, gaze distant for a moment. "So now we wait."
"Now we eat." Julian corrected mildly. "Waiting works better when you're not hungry."
Jaden grinned, already halfway through a second helping. "Words to live by, my man. Words to live by."
They'd barely settled into the comfortable rhythm of lunch when a pinkish hue bobbed into view near Julian's shoulder. Winged Egg of New Life hovered there, wings fluttering in quick, excited beats.
"Prrr. Prr-Prrrr!"
Julian froze. Not outwardly, but the shift was there. His posture straightened just a fraction, eyes narrowing in focus.
Mindy noticed first. "Uh-oh. That's the 'I won' noise, isn't it?"
Julian closed his eyes briefly.
Not to hear, but to feel. There it was. Not a full picture, just impressions. Fragments. A ripple of intent that wasn't just playful this time. Anticipation, secrecy, a spike of excitement that didn't belong to children sneaking sweets.
His eyes opened.
"Okay." he said quietly. "We've got something."
Alexis leaned in immediately. "How solid?"
"Not a blueprint." Julian replied. "More like… a calendar reminder scribbled in the margin."
Syrus blinked. "That's… not comforting."
Julian allowed himself a small smile. "It's enough."
He reached up, letting the Egg settle briefly against his hand.
"Good job, mate." he murmured. "You did great. Probably in the lead."
"Prrrr!" it chirped proudly, spinning once in the air.
Bastion leaned forward. "What did it find?"
Julian exhaled slowly. "Evidence of preparation. Not just rumors. Someone arranging a handoff. Voices, messages, timing. Nothing explicit, but enough to say this isn't just a casual trade between students."
Alexis's jaw tightened. "When?"
"Around three." Julian said. "Behind the card shop."
Jaden whistled low. "Bold."
"Arrogant." Julian corrected. "They don't think anyone's watching. But a nice place to meet an outside source, people might think it's only a new shipment of cards. Or maybe do it when a new shipment happens."
Mindy tilted her head. "So… what's the plan, mastermind?"
Julian glanced around the table. "We document. Quietly. No confrontation. No heroics."
Syrus swallowed. "…You want proof."
"Yes."
There was a pause.
Then Syrus raised a tentative hand. "If you need someone to, you know… accidentally leave their DuelPad recording somewhere…"
Everyone turned to look at him.
He flushed immediately. "I… I forget stuff all the time! No one would question it!"
Jaden blinked. Then grinned. "He's right. It's basically his brand."
"Hey!"
Julian studied Syrus for a moment. Then nodded. "That could work, mate. Thanks."
Syrus straightened, a mix of nerves and pride flickering across his face. "I can do it."
"I know. Let's go with your plan. I'll be recording the video from afar." Julian said simply.
Mindy squinted at Julian, suddenly thoughtful. "So… on that thing of spiritual spies. Question."
"Oh no." Jasmine muttered.
"If you can send invisible spirits around…" Mindy continued, grinning. "Couldn't you, like, send them into the girls' dorm? Or the locker rooms? And then Nightmare-Eyes just…" she made a vague swirling gesture. "...downloads the memory?"
The table went dead silent.
Julian stared at her.
"…I could." Julian confirmed casually.
Mindy's grin froze.
"And strictly speaking…" he added, "If there were a, let's say, strong emotional stimulus, Nightmare-Eyes wouldn't even need the memory. He'd pick it up from the environment."
Jaden choked on his drink.
Alexis stared at Julian in horror. "You're telling me that so casually?"
Julian shrugged. "What? She asked."
"You're a creep." Jasmine said flatly.
Mindy leaned back, laughing. "Wow. Good to know we should never change clothes near you."
There was a beat of silence.
And then…
"You're banned." Alexis declared instantly. "From… from being near us. In general."
Jaden wiped his mouth, still coughing. "Dude. You can't just say that and act like it's normal!"
Julian tilted his head. "I didn't say it was appropriate. I said it was technically true."
"That might make it worse." Jasmine replied without hesitation.
Mindy grinned, elbows on the table. "So let me get this straight. If someone were, hypothetically… hypothetically, doing something embarrassing… or intimate…"
Julian raised an eyebrow.
"…Your giant nightmare partner could just, what? Feel the vibes?"
Julian considered it for a second longer than necessary.
"Just as much ease as you would notice a couple with crumpled clothes after a make-out session."
Alexis buried her face in her hands, flushed.
"That's it." she muttered. "I'm never relaxing again."
Jaden stared at the ceiling. "I miss five minutes of lunch and suddenly we're discussing why Julian Ashford is banned from locker rooms."
"For the record." Julian added calmly, "Nightmare-Eyes isn't interested. He's just… extremely perceptive."
"That's not comforting!" Syrus squeaked.
Mindy laughed harder. "You know what? Fine. As long as you promise you're not actively using that for anything weird."
Julian pointed at her with his fork. "That's the important distinction. Active misuse is wrong."
Jasmine narrowed her eyes. "And passive?"
"Unavoidable occupational hazard."
Jaden leaned over, stage-whispering to Alexis. "He's not helping his 'future Obelisk elite' image."
Alexis peeked out from behind her hands, eyes narrowed at Julian. "You're lucky you're useful."
Julian smiled faintly. "I hear that a lot."
Jaden smiled, tension easing just a little. "Relax. Today we're spying on corruption dude, not traumatizing our friends."
"I'm nothing if not a multitasker. Don't ask things you don't want the answer for."
Despite herself, Alexis huffed a small laugh.
The tension cracked, laughter bleeding back into the table. Whatever else Julian was… Creepy, dangerous, unsettling, occasionally horrifying, he was still their unsettling genius. And for the spirits quietly still in the challenge of their spy game somewhere unseen? It was just the first step.
Three o'clock, behind the card shop. Maybe the whole story would not be there, but probably enough to start pulling a thread. And sometimes, that was all it took.
They didn't stay near the action. That was the first rule Julian enforced, quiet but firm. Too many bodies nearby would draw attention, and attention was the one thing they couldn't afford. The group didn't know his exact plan, but they trusted him and just went along.
Instead, the group spread out along the stone path that curved behind the academy's commercial wing, far enough to look like students killing time between classes, close enough to regroup quickly if something went wrong. Syrus swallowed, adjusting the strap of his bag.
"So…" he muttered, trying to sound casual. "I just… walk in. Buy something, look at some cards. Leave the place, drop my DuelPad. And… leave."
Syrus did not look reassured. Still, he took a breath and moved.
Jaden tilted his head. "What are you buying?"
Syrus hesitated. "…Sleeves?"
Julian gave him a thumbs-up. "Perfect. Completely unremarkable."
"And the call?" Syrus asked.
Julian tapped his DuelPad. "We'll call you while you're inside. Treat it like an alarm. Detention, forgotten homework, Crowler screaming your name, whatever motivates you to panic."
"That won't be hard."
"When you answer, leave your DuelPad on recording mode. Act distracted. Then, on your way out, 'accidentally' drop it." Julian continued.
"And the position?" Syrus pressed.
"As close as you can get to the back of the store without being obvious," Julian said. "We want clean audio. Don't try to be clever. Just be you."
Julian nodded. "Exactly. We'll call you. Treat it as an alarm reminding you of something and get out. When you answer the phone, leave it on recording mode. And try to leave it as close as you can to the meeting point behind the store without being obvious, we want a clean recording."
"That's it?"
"That's it."
Syrus blinked. "That's the whole plan?"
Julian gave him a sideways glance. "Sy. They think you're forgetful, nervous. It is not out of the ordinary to have forgot something, like a detention, and leave running. No one will question it."
"That's not comforting."
"It's effective."
Mindy winced sympathetically. "You'll be fine. Just… be yourself."
Jaden clapped Syrus on the shoulder. "You got this! Worst case scenario, you drop it too hard and Crowler yells at you when it goes to maintenance."
"Which I would obviously cover the cost." Julian pointed out.
After a beat, Syrus squared his shoulders.
"…Okay. Sleeves. Panic. Drop. Run."
Mindy grinned. "We believe in you."
Jaden pumped a fist. "Operation Butterfingers is a go!"
Syrus groaned, but he was already moving toward the shop. And that, Julian knew, was the most important part.
Nightmare-Eyes perched above him, vast and silent, one eye focused not on the image itself but on the emotional noise bleeding through the space. Julian didn't hear Syrus's thoughts, but he could guess them easily enough.
'Sleeves.' Julian imagined dryly. 'I'm buying sleeves. Or packs. Something normal. Something that doesn't scream "I'm here to do espionage."'
The familiar chime rang as Syrus pushed the door open. Julian's gaze sharpened.
Inside the shop, Syrus didn't freeze. That alone was progress. He hesitated for a heartbeat, then moved. Shoulders tense, yes, but forward. Natural for him. He browsed some of the sections, acting like someone who belonged there for a mundane purpose.
"Nice, Sy." Julian murmured, even if he couldn't hear it. "Keep moving."
Syrus drifted toward the accessories rack, picked up a pack of sleeves, then another. He compared them. Actually compared them. Julian felt a flicker of pride at that.
'He's not hiding.' Julian realized. 'He's committing.'
Dorothy's voice carried faintly through the open feed. "Let me know if you need anything!"
"Y-Yeah! Thanks, Miss Dorothy!" Syrus replied, a little too loud, but not panicked.
Julian leaned back slightly, letting Nightmare-Eyes widen its awareness. No hostile attention. No suspicion. Just background curiosity and the dull hum of students killing time.
Then Julian tapped Bastion's DuelPad screen. The call went through.
Syrus's DuelPad vibrated in his hand. He paused. Not startled, just caught. Julian could almost see the internal debate, the instinct to freeze fighting the decision on how or when to act to look the most natural as possible. He eventually chose action.
"Oh!" he said, turning away from the counter. "S-Sorry… hello?"
Julian winced internally. A bit theatrical, mate.
"What? Now?" Syrus continued, pacing a step. "I… I didn't forget, I just… wait, detention?"
A couple of heads turned. Syrus noticed. Adjusted. Lowered his voice mid-sentence, grounding himself.
"…Yeah. Okay, I forgot. I get it. I'm coming. Sorry."
He feigned to end the call, hands steady enough now. Walked to the counter, tapped his DuelPad against the terminal, and authorized the purchase properly, DP deducted with a soft chime, the call still active on the backdrop.
"Sorry about that." Syrus said, sheepish but composed.
Dorothy smiled. "Happens all the time."
Outside, Julian exhaled slowly. He didn't run.
Syrus exited the shop at a brisk walk. Not a sprint, not a sneak. Just fast enough to look annoyed and in a rush.
Nightmare-Eyes tracked him without effort while near the shop, feeding Julian a quiet stream of emotional impressions: focus, tension, determination threaded through lingering nerves.
He let the DuelPad slip from his hand. It skidded once and came to rest near the low wall behind the shop, half-hidden by stacked crates. Recording active.
Syrus looked at it for half a second. Then he straightened, squared his shoulders again, and walked away. No backward glance.
Julian smiled faintly. "Well done, Sy."
"He actually pulled it off." Jaden confirmed, excited.
"Not just pulled it off." Julian corrected. "Walked it like a breeze."
Alexis crossed her arms. "That was… absurdly easy."
"People expect complexity." Julian replied. "They don't expect incompetence."
"Hey!" Syrus protested faintly from a distance, arriving at the group a bit breathless. Julian didn't respond. His focus had already shifted.
"Fake incompetence." Julian clarified. "And now…"
Nightmare-Eyes stepped out of Julian's shadow once more without ceremony, vast and silent, its presence bending the air just enough to make Jasmine stiffen instinctively. In one massive claw, it held Julian's DuelPad, camera already active.
"You know what to do, buddy." Julian whispered.
Nightmare-Eyes lifted Julian's DuelPad with unsettling care, talons adjusting its orientation before slipping away into the canopy above, vanishing among leaves and shadow.
Without ceremony, he extended his hand and took Jaden's DuelPad.
"Hey!" Jaden protested on reflex. "I was just…"
"I just need it for a sec." Julian cut in calmly.
"For what?" Mindy asked.
Julian didn't answer immediately. He was already navigating menus, installing a remote-control app, fingers moving with practiced ease. A few taps later, he entered a temporary sync key, confirmed the connection, and exhaled.
The screen flickered, then stabilized.
The image sharpened as Julian adjusted it: zoom correcting, focus tightening, exposure compensating for the dappled light behind the card shop.
"There." he said. "I can control Nightmare-Eyes' camera from here."
Silence.
"…That's it?" Jasmine asked.
Julian glanced up. "That's what?"
"That's the whole plan?" Mindy said. "You just… control it from here?"
"Yes. What did you expect?"
Bastion tilted his head, studying the live feed. "You're remotely adjusting focal depth from this distance."
Julian nodded. "Angle, zoom, focus, brightness. As long as Nightmare-Eyes keeps the device stable, I can fine-tune everything else from here and record him in FullHD."
"And you just… gave it to your nightmare spirit." Jasmine asked.
"I trust him with my life." Julian replied. "My electronics are easier."
Jaden stared at his DuelPad, then at Julian. "…You're scary when you're being normal about this. That's seriously spy stuff."
Julian smirked faintly. "Boring tools can be scary in the right hands. That's competence, mate. It goes for duelists piloting simple decks, and it goes for life as well. Most plans are actually much simpler than what we see in movies."
Above them, unseen, Nightmare-Eyes settled into position. The image adjusted once more: clean, centered, perfect. Julian's thumb hovered over the record command.
"Now…" he said quietly. "We wait."
And waited they did.
Minutes passed. Students drifted by in the distance. A delivery drone buzzed overhead and disappeared.
Then, finally… A figure stepped into frame. Dorian Cauldwell.
Even at a distance, Julian recognized him instantly: immaculate posture, Obelisk jacket worn like a badge rather than a uniform, the faint air of someone who had never once questioned whether a door would open for him.
He wasn't alone. The second man entered from the opposite side. An older gentleman in civilian clothes, no academy insignia. He carried a reinforced case, matte black, too solid and too carefully handled to be anything mundane. The function was already active at the first glance, recording every minute, the zoom function already in motion to grasp details of their interaction.
Julian's breath slowed.
"And here we have it. Contact." he murmured.
The audio caught next in Bastion's device.
"…told you to be discreet," the man said, voice low.
Cauldwell scoffed. "Relax. No one comes back here."
The case changed hands.
"Your father wanted this delivered personally." the man continued. "Said not to route it through the usual channels."
Julian felt something cold settle in his stomach.
"What's in it?" Cauldwell asked, already reaching for the latches.
"Same as discussed. Some new archetypes, support for a few old ones. Most still in localized testing. Others scheduled for release next month."
Bastion sucked in a sharp breath. "Pre-release."
"Legal for play." the man added. "But not exactly… accessible. Or something predictable."
Cauldwell grinned, sharp and satisfied. "Perfect. He'll never see it coming."
Julian adjusted the zoom once more on the briefcase, fingers steady.
"And the limit?" Cauldwell asked. "The academy's conversion cap?"
The man snorted. "Please. Cards aren't money. Officially. And these are not for sale yet, how would someone put a price tag in it?"
There it was, clear as day.
The man left first. Cauldwell lingered just long enough to open the case a crack. Foil edges glinting like treasure, before snapping it shut and disappearing back into the Obelisk wing.
Julian recognized a few of them by memory of his other life. He saved the clip, as silence fell over the group. Even Jaden didn't crack a joke.
"…Wow," Mindy said finally. "That was… really bad."
"That's way over the monthly cap." Bastion added, already calculating. "Even by Obelisk standards."
Alexis looked at Julian. "He thinks the rules don't apply just because they are cards instead of money? It doesn't work like that!"
Julian didn't answer immediately, but eventually muttered. "I don't think he cares."
Nightmare-Eyes reappeared behind him, lowering the DuelPad back into his hands with surprising gentleness.
They regrouped near the shop minutes later, Syrus retrieving his forgotten device with exaggerated relief.
Julian joined both feeds in a editing software in his DuelPad and met their eyes.
"Well?" Jasmine pressed. "You have proof. Are you reporting it?"
Julian let out a quiet, humorless chuckle.
"To whom?" he asked. "So they can quietly disqualify him and slot me against another Obelisk who's cheating in a way I haven't seen yet?"
Bastion frowned. "That's… disturbingly plausible."
Julian's smile sharpened, just a little.
"No." he said. "This is leverage. Information. Control."
Syrus hesitated. "That sounds… dangerous."
"It is." Julian agreed. "But at least now I know exactly what kind of danger I'm walking into."
He glanced back toward the Obelisk wing, where Cauldwell had vanished.
"And more importantly…" he added softly, "He'll only learn from it when I want."
He wasn't still sure what he would do about it, but the recording was invaluable. Now, it was just a matter of making another plan on how to take advantage of that.
Then Jaden let out a low whistle. "Well. That answers the will he try something question."
"And replaces it with how deep does this go," Bastion added quietly.
Julian uninstalled the Remote Control app and returned Jaden's DuelPad. "Deep enough to be annoying. Fortunately, it was shallow enough to be predictable."
Syrus swallowed. "So… what now?"
"Now?" Julian slung his bag over his shoulder. "Now you go train."
They all blinked.
"You said it yourself, Jay…" Julian continued, glancing at Jaden. "The deal was that you'd keep them moving while I'm buried in exams. That doesn't change just because we confirmed the system's rotten."
Jaden straightened, grin snapping back into place. "Oh. Right! Training!" He pointed dramatically toward the distance. "Spiritual growth waits for no one!"
Mindy laughed. "You're way too excited about this."
"Hey, if I can't duel, at least I get to boss people around spiritually."
Julian shook his head, amused despite himself, then his expression sobered just a fraction.
"I need to review things for tomorrow's test." he said. "And think about that recording. Carefully."
Alexis studied him, reading between the lines. "You're not going to act on this yet."
"No." Julian replied. "Not yet. If I move too fast, I burn leverage. If I move too slow, he buries it. I need to choose when."
Bastion nodded in understanding. "Timing."
"Exactly. And what to do about it, exactly."
Syrus hesitated, then spoke up. "Just… don't do anything stupid alone."
"I won't. And don't forget, I'm never alone." He glanced at them one last time: Jaden already hyping up the next training block, Mindy and Jasmine falling into step beside Alexis, Bastion mentally cataloging everything that had just happened like his own plans were part of an equation that needed solving..
"Good luck." Jasmine said.
"Don't let those types of blues get to your head." Mindy added.
Julian chuckled. "I'll try not to."
"We're not all that bad, you know?" completed Alexis.
Julian nodded with a faint smile and parted ways with all of them. The children were still spying, but they would probably be called by Jaden for the hide and seek exercise.
As they split paths, he headed back toward the academic wing, mind already shifting gears (and making use of that sweet loneliness for a change), going over rules, leverage, optics, consequences.
The proof was secured, the board was set. Next day, the exam would truly begin.
Tuesday morning didn't feel like a school day. Not properly, at least.
The island looked the same: sun on stone, gulls cutting lazy arcs over the sea, its buildings gleaming like they always did. But the rhythm was off. Wrong.
Julian noticed it in the small things first.
Obelisk students moving in groups that didn't usually bother with the main halls. A few empty seats in classes that were, on paper, mandatory. Doors closing a little too fast when teachers turned their backs. Conversations that stopped the moment anyone outside their circle drifted too close.
And most telling of all: the direction of their feet.
Even before lunch, several blue jackets were already angling away from the cafeteria, away from the public spaces, heading back toward their dormitory as if the exam didn't start until two, but the preparations had started days ago.
'The elite doesn't just study.' Julian concluded as he walked. 'It prepares on other fronts.'
He kept his pace unhurried, posture relaxed, the way he'd learned to move when he wanted to be invisible.
On the surface, he was just another student crossing campus between morning classes.
Underneath, he was taking notes. Not with pen and paper, but with the might of his gaze and analytical mind.
He passed a corner where two Obelisk students were talking in a half-shadowed alcove, the kind of place people chose when they didn't want their mouths to be overheard. The moment they saw him, they shifted their shoulders, angling their bodies to block the line of sight.
Julian didn't even slow. He just let the scene go. Not because he couldn't force it. Because he didn't need to.
By the time he reached the academic wing, he'd already counted enough of those little tells to confirm what he'd suspected since the moment the special exam had been announced: today wasn't just about writing answers on paper.
The test was also about who you could lean on. And beyond that, it was about who was allowed in.
Obelisk liked to call itself meritocratic. And in theory, it was. Talent mattered, results mattered. Duel records mattered. But layered beneath that was something older and harder to uproot: a quiet sense of caste.
They believed in their superiority. Not always arrogantly, not always loudly, but firmly. A belief reinforced by money, lineage, preparatory schools, private tutors, and access to cards long before most students even knew they existed. And like any ruling class that truly believed itself deserving, they protected not just their individual seats, but the idea of who belonged among them.
The brightest stars were allowed, of course. Someone like Zane Truesdale didn't threaten the structure, he reinforced it. Exceptional enough to be untouchable, rare enough to be an exception instead of a precedent.
But letting anyone rise? Letting a steady stream of capable outsiders through the gates? That was dangerous.
It invited questions.
If someone without pedigree could sit at the same table… If someone without wealth could win on equal footing… If merit alone was enough… then the dogma cracked.
So they closed ranks. They covered for each other. Smoothed edges, nudged outcomes. Ensured that only a very specific kind of person made it through, even when the rules said others should.
Promotion, Julian realized, wasn't just a matter of passing an exam or winning a duel against a specific opponent.
It was a trial of will against a system that would test how much pressure you could endure, how much silence you could hold, and whether you understood the game you were stepping into.
Not everyone who could rise was meant to. And those who still tried anyway had to be ready to fight more than just a deck.
He'd almost made it to the next building when he saw it: an interaction that didn't bother hiding, because it didn't believe it had to.
A Ra student. Jennings, if he wasn't mistaken. Male, second-year, with a lighthearted posture, but not confident enough to look truly at ease, stood by a pillar near the entrance of the lecture hall. His bag was slung too tightly over his shoulder. His eyes flicked left and right as if trying to decide whether running would make him look weak, or make him look smart.
An unknown Obelisk student stepped into his space with the casual entitlement of someone who'd never been told no without consequences.
Julian veered slightly to the side, letting a group of students pass between them, just enough cover to slow without looking like he was slowing for them. He drew his DuelPad out as if checking the time.
His thumb hovered. He didn't hit record yet. Not until he knew it would capture something worth capturing.
The Obelisk's voice was low, but not quite a whisper. Not secretive. Private. There was a difference.
"Hey…" the Obelisk said, tone easy. Friendly, even. "You're on the list for the special. East Wing, right?"
The Ra student stiffened. "Yeah. So?"
"So…" The Obelisk smiled like they were discussing weather. "I'm just thinking. Would be a shame if you walked into that wing and… realized you'd made your life harder than it had to be."
The Ra student swallowed. "I'm not doing anything wrong."
"Of course not." The Obelisk's smile widened. "That's the point. You don't want to do anything wrong. You want to do the smart thing."
Julian's thumb tapped the screen.
Recording: ON.
The Obelisk leaned closer. Not threatening, not overtly. Just close enough that the Ra student had to either step back or accept the invasion.
"That's why I'm offering you something…" the Obelisk said. "A sponsor from a nice company. As a little help for your future career. Not even for the exam itself. God, no... We respect the process." The grin sharpened. "It's what happens after that matters."
"What are you talking about?" the Ra student asked, but his voice was already thinner.
The Obelisk shrugged. "You pass. Great. You get promoted. You become someone worth talking to. And then you'll need cards, connections. A deck that doesn't embarrass you." He tilted his head. "I can make sure you're not scrambling like a starving dog while everyone watches, for you to look like you actually belong."
Julian watched the Ra student's throat bob. Here it was, the carrot.
The Obelisk continued smoothly, almost kindly. "All you have to do is stop trying to prove a point today. Don't make waves. Don't come out swinging like you're trying to be a hero. Be… reasonable."
The Ra student's eyes narrowed. "Reasonable how?"
The Obelisk's expression didn't change. The warmth stayed. That was the worst part.
"You don't have to embarrass yourself." he said. "Don't be dramatic. Just…" a small shrug, "... underperform a little. Miss a nuance on the written test. Overthink a puzzle. In the duel, don't force the line when there's an easier route. Nothing obvious." He smiled again. "Just enough to keep the current seats where they belong."
Julian felt something cold settle in his stomach. Not shock, but recognition.
The Ra student clenched his jaw. "That's… that's asking me to throw it."
"I'm asking you to be practical." The Obelisk's eyes flicked briefly, checking if anyone was close enough to hear. Then his voice dropped, still calm. "Look. I'm giving you the nice option because I'm in a good mood. You can take the carrot, get a sponsor, walk away with your pride intact and try another time with an actual chance of surviving…"
He paused. Let the silence do the work.
"…or you can make me go find the stick."
The Ra student went pale.
"What? What stick?" he demanded.
The Obelisk laughed softly. "Don't make me spell it out. You're at Duel Academy. People here have money, influence, parents who call people. If you decide to be difficult, you might find your timed duel puzzle 'randomly' harder than usual. You might find your DuelPad 'randomly' glitches when you need it." A gentle shrug. "Maybe someone goes too hard on you in a PE class and you get hurt in an accident. Who knows? Life is so unpredictable."
Julian kept his face neutral, recording steady.
The Ra student's hands curled into fists. He looked like he wanted to say something brave. Something righteous. Something that would make the world simple.
Instead, he hesitated. And Julian watched the exact moment he did the math.
He wasn't being threatened with just bruises. He was being threatened with futility. With the idea that even if he tried, even if he fought clean and honest… That he'd lose anyway, because the deck was stacked from the beginning.
The Obelisk's tone softened again, as if offering comfort. "I'm actually doing you a favor. You don't want to get promoted if you can't handle this part of it. I'm giving you a chance to learn the rules before you embarrass yourself."
Julian's thumb hovered over the stop button.
Not yet. He wanted the last piece. There might still be something even more unquestionably incriminating.
The Ra student swallowed hard. "And if I say no?"
The Obelisk's smile didn't change.
"Then you're telling me you want to make enemies with the blue dorm." he said simply. "And I can't protect you from the consequences of that decision."
There. Julian stopped the recording. He slipped the DuelPad back down like he'd only checked the time.
Then he walked past. Not quickly. Not dramatically. Just… past.
The Ra student saw him and flinched, eyes widening: hope, maybe, or panic. A silent plea: Did you hear? Are you going to…
Julian didn't give him anything. Not a nod. Not a look of solidarity. Not a reassuring smile. Because reassurance was what got people killed in places like this.
He kept going. It took him another hallway's worth of steps before he let himself breathe properly.
If a student folded here, in the open, under veiled offers and casual threats… then promoting them would not be mercy. It would be cruelty.
Julian took his seat near the back as the lecture began, letting the professor's voice fade into background noise. His mind was elsewhere, mapping patterns, replaying expressions.
'Honor and capacity without malice gets you beheaded.' he thought grimly.
The image came unbidden through his head. Of the noblest of men from a show he'd watched back home. An honorable leader, a competent fighter and ruler, a beloved husband and father… and how he was utterly unsuited for the court he'd stepped into. A man who ruled well in the North's honourable values, but lost his head in a capital built on political agendas.
Different world, same lesson. The Obelisk dorm was akin to the snake's pit.
He didn't judge the Obelisk students for playing this game. He judged the system for pretending it didn't exist.
If the Ra student couldn't withstand this pressure… Couldn't even recognize the shape of it without folding, then promotion would not make him safer. It would make him prey.
Better to fail here, in the open, where the worst consequence was a bruised ego and a yellow jacket for another month (and maybe a little bit of hush money), than to rise unprepared into a dormitory where smiles came with knives and every favor had a leash.
Julian's expression stayed calm as the thoughts crossed by. Students were settling. It looked ordinary in the classroom, which almost made the morning's undercurrent feel more obscene.
As bitter as it was to admit, the injustice of the system carried a kind of twisted mercy.
Those who couldn't cross that wall, that made not of skill, but of pressure, politics, and quiet cruelty, would be crushed by its weight if they ever made it through unprepared. The same corruption that rotted the structure from within also acted as a barrier, keeping the truly vulnerable from stepping into a game that would devour them whole.
It was a parasite, yes. But it was also a filter.
Understanding that didn't make it taste any less foul.
The act of justifying it, even internally, left something sour at the back of Julian's tongue. He hated that this was how things worked. Hated that survival and competence weren't always aligned with fairness. But denying it would be naïve, and naivety was a luxury the upper tiers of the academy did not forgive.
Duel Academy wasn't the world, but it was a microcosm of it.
Better to test yourself against this wall here, where failure meant humiliation, demotion, and a bruised ego than at the top of the world, where falling meant losing far more than a place in a dormitory.
Lunch came and went without incident.
The food was decent, the company was familiar. Jaden was loud, warm and radiant as ever, pulling stories out of nowhere and exaggerating half of them into performances that would normally have dragged a laugh out of Julian without effort. Today, they barely registered.
Julian ate, nodded at the right moments, replied when spoken to, but his attention stayed elsewhere, coiled tight around the hours ahead. Even Jaden noticed it eventually, easing off the antics with a curious glance before shrugging and moving on to torment Syrus instead.
It was fine. This wasn't the time to relax. For the next few days, lowering his guard wasn't an option.
At 13:45, Yellow students eligible for the Obelisk promotion exam were instructed to present themselves in front of the East Wing of the Obelisk Male Dormitory.
The walk there felt different from any other crossing on campus. It wasn't just distance, it was atmosphere.
The closer Julian got, the quieter things became. Conversations thinned out. Laughter died early. Even footsteps seemed more deliberate, as if the ground itself demanded restraint. The Obelisk dorm loomed ahead, pristine and imposing, its architecture clean to the point of arrogance. Polished stone, controlled symmetry, banners that spoke of legacy and power… A place built to be admired from the outside, and judged from within.
Julian felt it the moment he crossed the invisible threshold.
Pressure. Not spiritual, exactly. Not like a flare or an aura pressing against his Ba. This was social gravity, dense and layered, the weight of expectation and scrutiny compressing the air. Eyes turned toward him. They were not openly hostile, but contained a type of sharpness unsettling on its own. Of measuring, and cataloging.
Predators didn't bare their teeth unless they had to.
Groups of Obelisk students lingered near the entrance, some leaning casually against the stone as if this were their territory, because it was. Their voices were low, controlled, threaded with confidence that hadn't been earned today, but inherited over time.
This wasn't an exam hall. It was a proving ground.
Julian took his place among the other candidates. Ra students like himself, with a few Obelisks that would make the test in the windows, whose presence here was already an admission of weakness. He could categorize and differentiate the looks immediately: curiosity from some, disdain from others, and something colder beneath it all.
Assessment. Who belongs, and who doesn't. And specifically, who breaks.
To the Obelisk students watching from the edges, this wasn't tension. It was entertainment.
They stood like nobility in an ancient coliseum, draped in privilege instead of silk, observing the arena as slave gladiators were led inside. They didn't need weapons in their hands to savor it. The smell of blood came later: failure, humiliation, rejection… but the anticipation alone was enough.
These candidates weren't merely inconveniences to be tolerated. They were spectacles.
Bright-eyed prospects stepping forward with hope in their posture, ambition in their stride, believing talent alone might be enough to breach the walls. Believing effort could compensate for pedigree. Watching that belief crack, slowly and inevitably, was part of the ritual and their delight.
A few of the Obelisks smiled. Others whispered. Some didn't bother to hide their boredom.
Because to the elite, the exam wasn't about who would rise.
It was about watching who would fall, and reminding everyone else why the seats above were reserved.
He straightened his posture, adjusted his bag on his shoulder, and let his expression settle into something neutral and unreadable. Not defiant or submissive, but strong. A monolith they couldn't erode with their looks and jokes.
If this was a snake's pit, then flinching would only invite the first strike.
Somewhere inside, he acknowledged the irony with a faint, humorless thought.
This wasn't even the duel yet, and the academy was already testing him.
Candidates were already gathering near the entrance, their numbers small enough to be conspicuous. Yellow jackets stood out sharply against the sea of blue, like stains that hadn't been scrubbed away yet.
Finally, an administrator stepped forward, voice calm and practiced.
"Written assessment candidates, this way please."
The group split almost at once. The sea of predators parted as those bound for the written exam were led deeper into the wing. The group was led through a set of tall double doors that opened into a hall more reminiscent of a private conference chamber than a classroom. Long tables of dark wood were arranged with meticulous precision, each seat paired with a polished DuelPad calibrated and programmed specifically for the test, already synced and waiting. The chairs were padded. Comfortable. Inviting.
Julian noticed the details immediately.
Gold trim along the walls. Subtle embossing bearing the Obelisk crest. Soft lighting calibrated to reduce eye strain. Even the water carafes placed at measured intervals spoke of consideration.
It was bait. A silent message carved into stone and velvet: This is what waits for you if you belong.
Some of the candidates visibly straightened upon entering. One Obelisk ran a hand over the back of his chair as if claiming it already. Another smirked, leaning back before the exam had even begun.
Julian chose a seat near the middle. Close enough to observe, far enough to avoid attention. As he settled, he felt it again: that layered pressure, not overt, not aggressive, but constant. Expectations pressing inward from every direction. The sense that failure here wasn't just personal, it was performative.
"Before we begin." one of the examiners announced, stepping forward. "All personal DuelPads, please."
A few murmurs rippled through the room. Not surprise, everyone here knew the protocol. Just mild irritation, especially among the blue students. One by one, candidates stood and handed over their devices, which were placed into sealed trays and carried to the side of the hall.
"You will be using academy-issued DuelPads for the duration of the assessment." the examiner continued evenly. "They are pre-synced, monitored, and equipped with full anti-cheat protocols. Any attempt at external access or data manipulation will result in immediate disqualification."
Julian rose with the others and passed his DuelPad forward without hesitation.
As he sat back down, a faint sense of relief followed.
'Good thing I wiped it.' he thought calmly.
All notes. All recordings. Every piece of sensitive data he'd collected over the past days. Uploaded to an external cloud, encrypted, and scrubbed clean from the device itself. If they wanted to comb through his DuelPad now (legally or illegally), they'd find nothing but the mundane residue of a student's daily life.
He glanced at the sleek academy-issued pad resting on the table in front of him as he returned to it and sat. Neutral gray casing. Obelisk crest. Pristine. In theory.
Julian almost snorted. If even one of these "neutral" DuelPads didn't have some kind of… helpful bias or answer sheet baked in for a blue student who had greased the right palms, he'd eat his pants. This wasn't paranoia, just plain and simple pattern recognition.
The examiners moved to their positions. The doors sealed shut with a soft, final click.
Julian placed his hands lightly on the academy DuelPad and exhaled.
'Alright. Let's see how clean this system really is.'
An administrator moved down the aisle, distributing final instructions.
"This assessment evaluates theoretical understanding, application judgment, and systemic reasoning. You are not being tested on memory and knowledge alone."
A pause. Julian almost smiled.
Around him, DuelPads chimed softly as the exam initialized. Questions would unlock simultaneously. Time limits were generous, on paper. The real constraint was subtler: the framing of the problems themselves.
He glanced at the first prompt when it appeared.
Not wrong or unfair, but angled.
The expected answers favored certain assumptions. Certain philosophies of play. The way most Obelisk students evolved in the system to see the game. Raw power applied decisively. Proactivity over restraint as a way to prove superiority.
Lines of play built on the assumption that your resources were broader, your monsters stronger, your recovery options deeper than anything the opponent could realistically muster.
The belief that if you pressed forward hard enough, the duel would bend in your favor simply because it should. Power was treated as a given constant, not a variable to be managed.
The kind of solutions that relied on fine control, on extracting maximum value from limited tools, on turning a weaker position into a winning one through precision and restraint, those weren't wrong. But they weren't what the test was looking for.
That kind of thinking belonged to duelists who had climbed up from below. Not to an elite that took its own strength as an immutable fact of the world.
And it wasn't limited to strategy alone.
Other sections tested encyclopedic knowledge: precise card interactions, obscure rulings, edge cases that only surfaced once every few hundred duels. Timing windows buried in official clarifications. Effects that behaved differently depending on how they resolved, not just what they did.
On paper, it was fair. Everyone had access to the same rulebooks.
In practice, it favored duelists who had the time, money, and institutional support to drill that knowledge endlessly, or who had been raised in environments where competitive play came with tutors, prep schools, and private testing groups. Memorization of specific interactions and rules that would probably be tested. Recall over intuition and adaptation.
Julian answered those questions easily enough. Across the room, he noticed it, the telltale stillness of someone who didn't need to think. Fingers moving too smoothly, inputs too clean. A line executed like muscle memory rather than reasoning.
Memorized. Or checked.
Julian leaned back slightly, letting the chair support him, eyes drifting for just a second to the gold-trimmed walls.
A reminder of what awaited those who passed, and a quiet warning to those who didn't. The luxury wasn't generosity, it was conditioning. An invitation to desire the seat so badly you'd shape yourself to fit it, whether or not it fit you back.
He refocused on his screen and time went on. The written exam ended after three hours.
Not because the academy insisted on keeping them there longer than necessary, but because the test itself was built that way. Fifty questions. Dense, layered, deliberately phrased to punish hesitation. And an essay at the end, designed less to test knowledge than to measure how well a duelist could still think after being ground down.
It wasn't just about knowing the answers. It was about holding your mind together long enough to reach them.
By the time Julian stepped out, the pressure behind his eyes was familiar. Not pain, focus fatigue. The kind that came from sustained alertness rather than confusion.
He didn't return to the Yellow Dorm, but straight to the training grounds.
They noticed him almost immediately.
Jaden was mid-explanation again, animated as ever, hands drawing shapes in the air. Syrus listened too intently, like he was afraid to miss a word. Mindy and Jasmine were seated nearby, while Alexis stood a little apart, posture steady, centered in a way Julian couldn't help but notice.
Jaden turned first. "Hey! You're done already?"
"For today." Julian replied, setting his bag down. "The written portion's over."
Syrus blinked. "Now? How long was it?"
"Three hours." Julian said. "Fifty questions. One essay."
Jaden whistled. "Damn… that's brutal."
"It's meant to be." Julian replied. "Endurance test. They want to see who breaks under volume."
Alexis frowned. "That's… excessive."
Julian glanced at her. "That's not the part that really matters."
That drew their attention.
He didn't start by showing them the questions. He told them about the morning.
About Obelisk students leaving classes early. About whispered conversations in hallways. About the way some Blue jackets moved through the academy like the outcome was already decided.
And then, calmly and clinically, he told them about the attempted bribe.
Silence followed.
"What?" Jaden said flatly.
"They offered him protection." Julian continued. "Support. Sponsorship. The implication was clear: take the deal, or become a problem."
Syrus swallowed. "That… that's not allowed."
Julian shrugged. "It's not written anywhere."
Alexis's expression hardened. "That doesn't happen in Obelisk."
"I know." Julian said.
She turned to him sharply. "No, you don't. The Blue Dorm isn't like that. It's competitive, sure—but it's not some backstabbing mess. People help each other. They want the best duelists to rise."
Julian met her eyes.
"For you." he said.
The words landed heavier than he intended. Alexis didn't explode immediately. That, more than anything, was what gave her reaction weight.
She had seen things. Everyone in Obelisk had. Favoritism. Quiet deals. The way some students, like Chazz and the ones that orbited him, treated the academy like inherited territory rather than a merit-based institution. She had seen rare cards appear in hands that hadn't earned them. Conversations cut short the moment someone from Ra or Slifer approached. Smiles that didn't reach the eyes.
She wasn't naïve.But this… This was different.
"You're talking like it's a completely different world." she said slowly. "I know there's corruption. I've seen it. I'm not pretending Obelisk is clean. But when someone proves themselves, they're welcomed. There's competition, sure… but it's contained. Political, sometimes. Petty, sometimes. Digs, jabs, whispered rumors, social pressure."
Mindy muttered, "More Mean Girls than… whatever this is."
Julian gave a thin smile. "Exactly."
Alexis's jaw tightened. "We don't threaten each other's existence. We don't try to remove someone."
Julian paused. This time, deliberately.
"The case for you girls is different."
That landed poorly.
Mindy blinked. "What's that supposed to mean?"
Julian exhaled slowly. "The Blue Dorm isn't the same place for men and women."
Jasmine frowned. "You're saying it's easier for us?"
"I'm saying it's different." Julian replied. "And the difference matters."
Mindy scoffed. "That sounds like a nice way of saying—"
"Let me finish." Julian said, firm but calm.
They did. Alexis crossed her arms. "Alright… Explain."
"The male side of Obelisk is a snake pit." Julian said evenly. "It's political. Hierarchical. Predatory. Advancement there doesn't just threaten individuals. It threatens networks, status, lineage, family influence."
Jaden grimaced. "So they eat their own."
"They test each other constantly." Julian continued. "Not just in duels. In pressure. In favors. In leverage. If you can't navigate that… you don't belong."
Syrus went quiet.
Alexis shook her head. "That's not how it is for us."
"I know." Julian repeated. "Because you're not considered a threat."
The words hung in the air.
"The academy has far fewer female students. Far fewer." he continued. "Yellow barely has any. Blue is the only dormitory fully equipped to house you long-term. Facilities, space, resources. Your promotion, structurally, is expected."
Jasmine's anger didn't fade, but it shifted. "Expected doesn't mean easy."
"No." Julian agreed. "It means different. You get a fair shot."
Mindy hesitated. "Different how?"
Julian didn't sugarcoat it.
"You're underestimated." he said. "Constantly. Not because of your decks or your results, but because of your gender."
"I'm not saying women can't be dangerous duelists." Julian added immediately. "History already disproved that. Mai Valentine placed third in Duelist Kingdom and made top eight in Battle City. Ishizu Ishtar at those finals. No one who understands dueling can deny their skill."
Jaden nodded quickly. "Yeah! They were monsters."
"But notice something." Julian went on. "They weren't threats to the structure. They were exceptions the system could point to and say: 'See? We're fair.'"
Alexis's anger sharpened. Not explosive, but colder.
"So you're saying that the male side treats every new ascension as a redistribution of power." she said.
"Yes." Julian answered. "A zero-sum game. And one must be able to survive it to ascend."
Mindy frowned. "And the girls?"
"You're filtered differently." Julian said. "You're welcomed because you don't destabilize the hierarchy. You're admired, encouraged. Sometimes objectified. But not opposed. The Blue Dorm is nurturing to a degree for you. Cooperative. Almost… comfortable. But even the title system says it all. King is power, authority, fear. The leader of the academy. While Queen is decided by a popularity contest. Duel is only applied as a freakin' tie-breaker! It's beauty and image, not capability."
Jasmine's jaw tightened. "Eye-candy."
Julian nodded once. "Exactly. They don't believe you could ever take something from them." Julian finished. "Not power, authority or the crown."
Jaden muttered. "That's messed up."
"It is." Julian said. "Your challenge isn't surviving hostility. It's tearing through silk restraints. Being taken seriously when the system assumes you're there to be admired as a pretty piece of ass instead of a competent duelist."
Jasmine clenched her fists. "So they smile at us and keep us in a golden cage. They don't really respect us as equals."
For a moment, none of them spoke.
Then Mindy broke the silence, slower than usual, her voice stripped of its usual levity.
"That didn't happen in the prep schools." she said. "At least… not like this."
Alexis nodded faintly, answering after some thought. "Those places were insulated. Everyone there came from money. From the same circles. We were kids." She exhaled. "And honestly? Half of them were too scared of their parents to pull anything like this."
"And sexuality wasn't…" Mindy gestured vaguely, searching for the word. "That much of a factor yet."
"Probably not in the same way." Jasmine agreed. "I thought we were all duelists first there. People were competitive, but it was about results."
Julian listened without interrupting.
"The academy isn't like that." Alexis continued, more to herself than to him. "This place isn't a school. It's a funnel. A filter for the professional world."
"And the professional world isn't safe. This sexism will also happen there." Mindy finished quietly.
Jasmine's expression tightened, anger mixing with something more wounded.
"I knew people looked at us differently." she said. "I'm not blind. I've caught the looks, the comments. The way some guys talk to us like we're decorations that learned how to duel."
Alexis gave a bitter half-smile. "Or like we're impressive despite being women."
"But I thought that was individual." Jasmine went on. "Ignorant people. Jerks. Not…" She swallowed. "Not baked into the structure."
Mindy hugged her arms around herself. "I felt it too. Especially these last weeks." She glanced at Alexis. "Little things. Being talked over. Being assumed to be here because of someone else. Or because we're 'hot' and 'popular.'" She let out a shaky breath. "I just didn't have the words for it."
Julian spoke carefully.
"That's how it survives." he said. "If it were obvious, people would revolt against it. Instead, it's subtle. Comfortable. It gives you just enough encouragement that you don't immediately realize you're being underestimated."
Alexis stared at the ground.
"So when I thought the Blue Dorm was fairer…" she said slowly, "…I was measuring it by the wrong metric."
"Yes." Julian said. "You girls don't face hostility. You have to deal with dismissal."
Her jaw set.
"That almost makes me angrier." Alexis admitted. "At least hostility means they're afraid of you."
Jaden nodded grimly. "Yeah. Being ignored sucks…"
Jasmine straightened slightly, shoulders squaring. "So if we want to be taken seriously, truly seriously… We don't just have to be good."
Julian met her gaze.
"Same thing as someone trying to ascend the ranks. You have to be undeniable." he said. "So good they can't explain you away. So competent they're forced to recalibrate their assumptions. That's what Zane did. And the path I'm on as well."
Mindy snorted softly. "That's… exhausting."
"Tell me about it." Julian agreed. "But it's also why the women who make it tend to be terrifying."
That earned a faint, sharp smile from Alexis.
"Mai didn't just win." she said. "She pressured even the top of the world. Even the King of Games trembled to win."
"And Ishizu…" Jasmine added, eyes narrowing with new understanding, "Never needed to shout. She just stood there and everyone felt it. Kaiba beat her on a hunch, that game was hers."
Julian tried to contain a laugh, remembering the scenes in the anime and knowing that there was a bit more than that to it. "You could say that."
"So while we're dealing with the social maneuvering of being underestimated, dismissed, reduced to eye-candy or popularity contests…" her voice cut sharper, "You're dealing with people who will happily sabotage, threaten, or crush someone outright to protect their seat."
"Yes." Julian said again. "As I said, for them, every new male ascension is a potential redistribution of power."
Alexis laughed once. Short. Bitter.
"I knew it was bad." she said. "I didn't realize it was House of Cards bad."
"That's the mistake." Julian replied gently. "Thinking your reality scaled."
Her gaze snapped back to him.
"I thought the injustice was the same everywhere." she said quietly.
Julian shook his head.
"That's the trap. It isn't. The Blue Dorm is not made of a single wall. The two dorms are different in more aspects than just the separate buildings."
It was two different mazes. And both of them were designed to break people in very different ways.