Yu-Gi-Oh! Fan Fiction ❯ Shadow Realm: Fifteen ❯ Eye of the Storm, Pt. 1 ( Chapter 10 )

[ T - Teen: Not suitable for readers under 13 ]

At first his entire left arm twitched. Slowly, the feeling returned to it, inch by inch from the fingertips to the elbow. The upper arm returned in one massive rush, taking his breath away.

His spine was the next thing to come back to him, the bone solidifying and causing a tightening on his ribs. The ribs were next, clicking as they returned to their normal selves. Any number of lesser cuts and scrapes restored themselves, itching as the skin healed. His entire world went white...

Fifteen woke up, struggling to open his eyes. One hand found the street - hold it, that wasn't the street at all. It was too spongy to be concrete, but too firm to be soil. His eyes finally opened, and when he looked down, the Witty Phantom saw he was on a mattress. Further examination revealed he was in a low-rent bedroom, with scorch marks all over the walls, and one wall was blown out, exposing the room to the outside - although blankets were hanging over it.

Spotting a familiar nightside, he recalled the circumstances of D-15B's death, and almost broke into laughter. This was his old apartment, after being blown up by the monster mimicking him.

A low, soft tenor voice slid into his ear: "Ah, you're finally awake, Fifteen. Tea?"

Turning his head, Fifteen saw the Dark Magician sitting at the foot of the bed, sipping tea from a china cup. The cup was both chipped and scorched - and Fifteen recognized the pattern. "This used to be my apartment," he said, "and that used to be part of my china set."

"Well, a stroke of luck - you're in familiar surroundings," the spellcaster replied. "As for your china, I'm afraid the shock from the blast only spared this cup, three others and a couple of plates. I had to steal the teapot from a room down the hall." He poured a cup of tea and slid it along the bed.

A sigh left Fifteen before he sipped the tea. "I have several questions, but they boil down to three: what time is it, where are Tessia and Naomi, and who exactly are you?"

Pausing to finish his cup, the Dark Magician answered, "Respectively, twenty-three after eleven in the morning, across the hall looking for breakfast, and I am who you think I am. I am the Dark Magician DM-005A, Spellcaster Representative on the Central Shadow Realm Council. Call me Raelvion, I much prefer it."

"Where'd you get that name?"

"Such matters are private."

Acknowledging this, Fifteen drank his tea, his left arm still stiff. "You'd think someone would have called the police by now," he said, looking himself over. His left shirtsleeve was little more than a ring of scorched fabric around his shoulder, the jacket sleeve having torn off. The rest of his jacket was tattered beyond repair, his right pants leg was all but gone, and he was missing both shoes. His hat, however, was still intact and sitting on the nightstand.

"You'd think so, but there's nobody here who'd call," Raelvion said, standing up. "The building was evacuated after D-15B's death. The idea was sound, but made it the pefect hiding spot by default."

Fifteen slid out of the bed, stretching his left arm. The one big question he'd wanted to ask finally occurred to him, and he asked it: "Why were you at the fight with Gaia?"

There was a lengthy pause as Raelvion glanced out the hole in the wall, looking at the scene of the battle once again. He then replied, "I've kept a very close eye on you since the Blue Nemuriko attack, Fifteen. I spent a lot of time listening to the rumors and the stories that circulated around the 'Shadow Killer', and slowly I've tried to piece together the real truth. A very important part of the process was that you stay alive - if you died, it would be case closed." He turned to Fifteen, his expression far more serious than before. "Only a few holes still remain in the truth, and I think you can help fill them in."

The Witty Phantom stopped in mid-stretch, and looked back to Raelvion. He then picked up his hat, dusted it off, and put it on. "I'll do it," he replied.

A smile crossed Raelvion's face, and then he let out a sigh of relief. "Thank the gods for that," he said, "I was afraid my little speech would scare you off. This isn't the proper place to discuss such subjects, though." He reached into his robe and held up a very elaborately styled ticket. "Ever hear of the Forbidden Palace? I made reservations there this morning. I'll get the girls and we can go..."

Fifteen held up one hand to interrupt, and then kicked open the bedroom closet door. "Just a moment," he said, and one hand searched the back wall. Finding a small catch, he triggered it, and took out a carefully preserved suit.

One of the Dark Magician's eyebrows raised. "An emergency suit?" he asked.

"If I'm going to the most famous club in the Central Shadow Realm, I can't be dressed like this, now, can I?"

0000000

Low-Level Zombie Housing Complex 3 was completely vacant now, except for a group of Crimson Ninjas. The three of them moved slowly along the halls, hunting after a Earl of Demise they'd seen fleeing into there. Stopping a moment, one of them concentrated, sensing a group of trap cubes plastered along the walls. He signaled to his companions, and the three went to work.

Once all of the cubes were safely destroyed, the Crimson Ninjas resumed their travels. Suddenly, one of them hit something concealed in the carpet. He stopped, not moving an inch. One of the others spun around, knelt, and slashed the carpet. Seeing what it was, his eyes went wide. "Widespread Ruin!"

The other two jumped out the window just as the one stepping on it lifted his foot.

A massive explosion rained debris on the fighters below, but almost none of them noticed. It was just one in a series of similar detonations throughout the quarter. By now, very few buildings were still standing.

The Lesser Fiend known as Belphegor was backed into a corner, shooting Final Flame after Final Flame into a wave of White Ninjas. As each gun clicked empty, he threw it aside, and then dove onto the enemies, punching and biting in equal amounts. One of his arms went flying, but the fiend refused to die, until finally the combined weight of several knives slamming into his back at once brought him down in a rain of shards.

Seven Opticlops roamed the streets in a tight pack, seeking prey for their Ookazi guns. The sound of glass crunching drew their attention, and all seven turned to stare at Chick the Yellow. A second's pause later, the Dark Scorpion ran screaming, all of the Opticlops in tow. Occasionally, he leaped in the air, the better to dodge their fire.

As Chick kept running, across the quarter, a severely injured Strike Ninja collapsed against the side of what was once a thrift store, breathing heavily as he tried to gather his strength. Cliff the Trap Remover knelt next to him, examining the injuries before shaking his head and saying, "You're not making it out of this fight, old friend."

The Strike Ninja chuckled, and then coughed, blood staining the inside of his mask. "Didn't think so," he replied. "But I'm going to go out in the gaudy style."

There was a pause, and then Cliff asked, "Code X-26?"

"Of course," the dying ninja answered. "Get the others out of here."

Nodding, Cliff leapt away, shouting, "Code X-26!"

One of the Strike Ninja's hands went to a pouch at his side, and he primed the Final Destiny cube within. "Eat this, Dark Ruler," he said, just before hitting the activating switch.

When the flash faded away, everything within ten miles of where the Strike Ninja died was little more than ash. The Low-Level Zombie Housing Quarters were all but gone.

The total survivors came to about eight, all of whom had declared a temporary truce. They gathered in the train station, the one place the Final Destiny hadn't touched. The Dark Scorpions stared in awe at the piles of ash that used to be the Low-Level Zombie Housing Quarters, while two Beasts of Talwar were knelt in sorrow. The last survivor, the Dark Ruler Ha Des himself, merely sipped his wine.

"Okay," Ha Des said finally, "we'll call this one a draw."

0000000

Despite their best efforts, Aysev and Geefor had arrived too late to catch their suspect the previous night. They did, however, arrive just in time to be the first to see Gaia's impact crater.

Now Aysev was sitting on the street, next to a very unusual device. It looked like nothing more than an oversized crossbow, made of metal painted white. Where the tip of a bolt would be on a crossbow sat an egg-shaped protrusion, which was currently humming at a low frequency. In the very center of the device was a magic cube, the activator already primed and awaiting triggering.

This contraption was Shadow Realm Police Force Weapon #750, referred to simply as Weapon Seven-Five-Oh - the Offering Cannon. The magic cube at the weapon's center was an Offerings to the Doomed, a spell powerful enough to rip the life from a Gate Guardian. The previous night had seen the cops assembling and priming the weapon, setting it in the center of the Level Four Fiend Living Quarters. Now it just waited to be aimed at whichever Living Complex the suspect happened to come out of.

Spending the entire night on a stakeout had not done much for the Unfriendly Amazon, however. Aysev's hair was a mess, mussed up and frizzy, and her clothes were wrinkled badly. Her eyes had the glassy look of someone who had spent all night fighting off sleep. Currently, she was staring off into the distance.

When a cup bumped into her shoulder, however, she snapped back to reality and looked at its holder.

Geefor had already poured himself a cup of coffee from a thermos (she tried not to think where in that kimono he'd kept it), and now he was offering her a cup. "Stakeouts are the worst," he said. "You look like you need this."

Before Aysev replied to that, she took a sip of the coffee. Instantly, feeling returned to various parts of her body that had gone numb. Sighing in relief, she smiled and said, "You're worth more than anyone else I know, Geefor..."

Both cops were suddenly aware of movement in front of one of the Living Complexes. Aysev stood up, drawing her Sparks gun, as Geefor slid behind the Offering Cannon and aimed it towards the door.

As luck would have it, the first monster to step out of the building was the suspect himself. Witty Phantom D-15A gave no impression of the fighting he had engaged in the night before - his suit was pristine, and his shoes almost sparkled, they were so well-polished. The only sign he'd found himself in any trouble was his hat - it was beaten, battered, dented and otherwise looked messed up.

Behind the suspect - Aysev was deeply confused; the suspect was supposed to be alone - a Magician of Faith moved into the open, chatting amiably with the monster behind her. It was quickly revealed to be a Witch of the Black Forest, who seemed greatly troubled by something. The Unfriendly Amazon gritted her teeth; she hadn't expected to deal with accomplices.

The next one to leave the building almost caused Aysev to drop her gun in shock. Unless she'd gone delirious or one of them was a very good shapeshifter, it was the Dark Magician. What possible reason he would have to accompany such a criminal she couldn't fathom.

Catching herself, she cursed under her breath and then yelled, "Halt, Witty Phantom D-15A!"

On hearing his number, the Witty Phantom looked to her and then, judging from his lips, muttered, "Ah, damn." The Representative stepped behind him, staff at the ready.

"Move to one side, Mr. Representative!" Aysev continued, holding her gun on the suspect. "D-15A, you are wanted on twenty counts of murder, including the deaths of the Trap Creator's Guild Representative and the Magic Creator's Guild Representative; conspiracy against the Central Shadow Realm; and evading the police! Submit quietly or we will have no option but the use of lethal force! You have thirty seconds to decide!"

The Dark Magician did not move, instead staring with those piercing blue eyes directly into Aysev's own. She felt almost embarassed, although her gun did not waver. Meanwhile, the Witch of the Black Forest had pressed slightly into the Magician of Faith, who was comforting her the best she could. And in front of them all, the Witty Phantom just stood there, hands at his sides.

Finally, the time was up. Taking a deep breath, Aysev declared, "You have made your choice! Mr. Representative, get out of the way now! Geefor, fire the Offering Cannon!"

Taking aim at the suspect, Geefor nodded, and was just about to pull the trigger. "At once, Ays-"

Before he could fire, a gigantic skeletal hand reached down and picked up the Offering Cannon, crushing it between its fingers.

0000000

It was all a blur to Fifteen at that point. Having stepped out the door without any suspicions, he found himself at cannonpoint. Under his breath, he whispered to Raelvion, "Any ideas?"

"Just stand still," the Dark Magician said. "They wouldn't dare to fire as long as I'm standing next to you."

After thirty seconds had passed and the Sasuke Samurai moved to pull the trigger, Fifteen asked, "Are you sure?"

It was then that the skeletal hand reached down and destroyed the Offering Cannon. The Sasuke Samurai just barely got out of the way.

The hand belonged to a very familar Skull Servant, one who had bolted its head to its neck. Standing 100 feet tall, it clicked its teeth before shouting, "D-15A! Do you have ANY idea what I went through to find you?!?"

Working desperately to maintain his cool, the Witty Phantom shouted back, "You're taller than I remember you, bone-pile!"

"This is the raw power of a twin Thousand Energy boost!" it declared, raising its hands to the sky. "I could wrestle the Blue Eyes White Dragon to the ground at this point!" It then opened the top of its robe, revealing a crumbling ribcage.

Letting out a low whoosh of breath, Naomi fainted behind Fifteen.

The Skull Servant continued, "The energy is slowly destroying me, but I'll take you to the Graveyard with me, D-15A!"

At that point, the police officers had recovered from the confusion. Both of them stood directly between the giant zombie and Fifteen's group, and the Unfriendly Amazon yelled, "Hold it right there! You will not lay a hand on the Witty Phantom - he is a wanted suspect, and thus is under our protection until such time as he is taken into custody!" She raised her Sparks gun, but Fifteen could see how her hands wavered.

"The police, hmmm?" the Skull Servant said, and then he burst into a roar of laughter. "What a joke! I only wanted to kill D-15A, but wiping two cops off the face of the Central Shadow Realm is no bone off my skull!" It raised one fist into the air, its shadow falling over the Sasuke Samurai. Two shots from the Sparks gun just bounced off its robe.

Quickly, Fifteen said to Raelvion, "I have to stop him."

"You realize your problems would be solved if it took out the police..." the spellcaster replied.

"And then I'd have two more deaths on my conscience. One zombie or two warriors?"

Nodding, Raelvion pressed a primed trap cube into Fifteen's hand. "Only the cruelest monster wouldn't want to help them. Get to it."

Leaping off the steps, Fifteen ran directly in front of the threatened monsters and hurled the active trap into the Skull Servant's chest. The cube exploded in a flash of red and green lights.

After the light cleared, there was an inch-tall figure standing in the street. It looked up at Fifteen and clicked its teeth, cursing in languages none of the assembled monsters had ever heard before. "No fair using Reverse Trap!" it shouted in a high-pitched voice.

"Tell it to the Reaper," Fifteen said right before he brought his shoe down on it. There was a shattering noise, and then he raised his foot, picking a shard of what was once the Skull Servant from his heel.

Striding up to him, Raelvion said, "I think that's your first legitimate murder ever, isn't it?"

The Witty Phantom shrugged. "Who'll care?"

0000000

Under the streets, so low in the Central Shadow Realm that not even the Labyrinth Tanks knew of it, there was a giant cave. In this cave, Exodia had long ago placed the bones of the Five-God Dragon under the care of a particular individual - a lich, long before having become skeletal. Through bizarre magics, it had created the Skull Servants from the power still residual in the bones of the great dragon, and thus had become the King of the Skull Servants.

Now seated in a great oaken throne at the center of the Five-God Dragon's bones, the skeleton was having a light snack of chocolate-coated breadsticks - while it didn't need to eat, nor did it actually have organs, it could still taste and digest food, and knowing the details of how that worked would drive the sanest man mad. There was a pause, as the King felt one of its subjects die.

It placed a skeletal hand to its brow, sensing all the details of the death of its creation...

And then, with a shrug and a low "Meh", it returned to its snack.

0000000

A moment passed, during which Aysev and Geefor took in the ramifications of what had just happened. The suspect had rushed out, used a rather valuable trap cube, and saved their lives almost immediately after they had declared their intent to use lethal force. And now he was casually talking to one of the Central Shadow Realm's most important people.

Aysev shut her eyes. Something deep within herself had begun to weigh all that had happened. It all tied into one question, asking it over and over again: can I really handle this? Have I stepped in over my head? What's the truth behind truths in this situation?

Geefor nudged her in the back of the knee, and Aysev opened her eyes in time to hear the Dark Magician's next words. He was standing before both of them, his staff held head-down and his eyes blazing. "As the official Representation of Spellcasters on the Central Shadow Realm Council," he declared, his voice amplified, "I, Raelvion, the Dark Magician, hereby grant Witty Phantom D-15A a pardon on any and all crimes he is accused of, regardless of whether the crimes truly happened or whether he committed them. My decision is final." A gust of wind caught his robe's hem and fluttered it about.

The wheels in Geefor's head turned an instant before he began yelling. "That's not proper conduct!" he yelled, shaking his fists. "Pardons may only be granted by decision of all voting Council members and must be ratified by Exodia! Furthermore, crimes against Council members cannot be pardoned! What makes y-"

Aysev's hand dropped on Geefor's head, silencing him. She looked over the Witty Phantom, and it all fell into place. This was far beyond her. "Very well, Mr. Representative," she said, turning Geefor towards the other side of town. "We will respect and report your decision." She then walked away, all but dragging her partner with her.

Once they were out of earshot, Geefor hissed, "You aren't actually going along with this, are you, Aysev?"

"It's too big for us, Geefor," she said, her tone barely more than a whisper.

Only then did Geefor realize what she meant, and what she had herself realized. He said not a word the rest of the way back to HQ.

0000000

Between the three of them still up, Fifteen's group managed to rouse Naomi back to consciousness. The rather frail woman smiled shyly, and as they helped her up she said, "Sorry about that. My nerves have taken a few too many shocks recently."

"No surprise there," Raelvion replied. "Not every day you're dragged through a series of events like this. Dust yourself off, we can't afford to be late for lunch."

Tessia looked over Fifteen, who was dusting the last shards of the Skull Servant off his shoes, and then looked away a little. A blush had settled on her cheeks, and if asked, she wouldn't be able to explain why.

Once done with his errand, Fifteen asked, "That reminds me, how are we going to get from here to the Council Lower Quarter without getting caught? You're one of them, so they won't ask questions, but pardon or no pardon, I'm still wanted."

In response, Raelvion tossed Fifteen another magic cube, one that he recognized as a Scroll of Bewitchment once it landed in his hand. Having done so, he took out another. "This," the Dark Magician said, "is a very special piece of magic indeed. It's the private transport of the Shadow Council." He activated it and threw it in the air.

There was a flash, and then a fairly large machine landed on the street next to the group. The two lower-level spellcasters gasped in amazement, and Fifteen stopped from his scroll application to admire it.

"The Interdimensional Matter Transporter," Raelvion said, smiling as he did. "It'll take you anywhere you want to go in the Shadow Realm. Fully reusuable unless you don't want it to be. Seats four, fully air-conditioned. No cup holders, though."

"Blast," Fifteen said sarcastically, "I was hoping to stop for a cup of coffee."

Naomi tapped on one of the device's bubble-like windows. "I recall making some of these," she said. "Very tricky magic to get right, especially if you want it to stand up to repeated use."

After a moment, Raelvion tapped his staff on the ground. "There will be time for talking during lunch," he insisted. "Everyone get in, please."

Tessia signaled for her friends to give her a minute, and then took hold of Fifteen's shirt collar. She lead him out about ten yards, and then started, "You were unconscious last night, and we were busy this morning, so I'll say this now."

Fifteen listened intently, only to get struck hard in the gut with a crooked staff.

"Don't do that to me again!" she yelled. "If you risk your life on another battle I'll kill you myself! Got it?"

He nodded mutely, whereupon she leaned in and embraced him tight. Something in the Witty Phantom's heart turned over.

"The children are playing," Raelvion noted as Naomi blushed.

Once all four were in the Transporter, it shimmered twice, and then disappeared.

0000000

A lesser-known treasure of the Council Lower Quarters was the Library Arcanium, home to over seventy thousand tomes on such subjects from cooking eggplant to summoning otherworldly nightmares. It was one of the few places in this district that employed Level Four and lower monsters.

On his break, one of those monsters was relaxing on the bench outside the building. He was a Stern Mystic, although the name didn't suit him - he'd seen many years in the Central Shadow Realm, and time had mellowed him out. Currently, he had few more pressing interests than sorting books and feeding the Winged Kuribohs.

With each toss of breadcrumbs, a new wave of the Winged Kuribohs descended to eat up. One landed next to him, and the old spellcaster's hand ruffled its furry form. It was shaping up to be a quiet afternoon when something happened.

A loud noise filled the air, splitting it like a whistle. The Winged Kuribohs flew away, and before the Stern Mystic could figure out what had happened, a giant machine appeared from nowhere. A door opened, and four figures - among them the Dark Magician, the spellcaster noted - strolled out from within, heading off in the direction of the Forbidden Palace.

Almost as an afterthought, the Dark Magician tapped the machine with his staff. It folded back into a magic cube, and he took it with him.

"How utterly unusual," the Stern Mystic muttered to himself. He then turned and threw more breadcrumbs. The Winged Kuribohs flew back down, and the afternoon returned to normal.

.