The dueling gauntlet soared through the air to land in Tea’s outstretched hands.

  "Well, that's that." Depre Scott said, having reverted to his previous stoic manner almost as soon as the duel finished, "As promised, the dueling gauntlet and the six star chips it holds.”

  “And we can stay on the island?” Tea quickly asked the follow-up question.

  Depre Scott acknowledged it with a tilt of his head. “This island is meant for duelists. You have defeated a player killer in a duel and now possess a gauntlet. That makes you a duelist, no?”

  There was no mention of Jean, Tristan, or Bakura in the man's words, but perhaps that was on purpose, Phil thought. Ignoring them in a sort of tacit approval that basically said 'other non-duelists on the island? Never seen them!'

  Tea nodded, apparently satisfied, and then her eyes flicked down to the dueling gauntlet in her hands. She wore a considering look, even tilting her head in thought for a few seconds before she looked up to meet Phil’s gaze.

  “What’s the plan?” Phil asked. Even though getting a glove for Jean was high on his list of stuff to do, he didn’t have any intention of putting Tea on the spot over whether she wanted to keep it for herself or not. If she didn’t, then no problem. If she did, Phil could just burn the night oil looking for another player killer – considering how many people Pegasus wanted thinned from the tournament, there were doubtlessly many more stalking the island at this time to pick people off.

  “Here!” Tea smiled brightly, tossing the dueling gauntlet to Phil with such suddenness that his hands fumbled to catch it before the glove hit the ground. “Thanks for the help, I really do appreciate it!”

  "You don't want to join in the fun?" Phil casually asked, glancing over the glove quickly before stuffing it in a spare pocket.

  Tea shrugged. “I thought about it, but I think I prefer no-stakes fun duels more. Plus, I bet Jean will be over the moon to finally participate with you guys!” Tea followed up her declaration by making a victory sign with her fingers and beaming at Phil.

  Laughing, Phil gave a nod of farewell toward the surprisingly chill player killer and turned his attention to the trapdoor situated in the dirt ceiling just outside of the battle box. It wasn’t crazy far up, no more than seven feet, but even that was a bit awkward to climb out of without a ladder.

  “I’ll give you a boost?” Phil said with a sideways glance at Tea, who nodded in agreement. He crouched down slightly, cupping both of his hands for Tea to put a foot in. Then, with a one, a two, and a grunt of mild exertion, Phil rose to give the girl the height she needed to touch the trapdoor, where she could push it open and grip the sides with her hands to pull herself above ground.

  Once that was done, Tea poked her head back through the trapdoor to stare questioningly at Phil. Even she could tell the edges of the trapdoor were a bit too high for him to reach by himself, even if he jumped. But that unspoken question did not last long. Phil reached into his always-present backpack and produced a small roll of paracord – a small type of rope that was generally used for parachute lines, but over time it had gained quite a reputation for being a good, light-weight utility cord, one that took up much less space than a coil of regular rope to boot.

  “Catch!” Phil shouted, tossing one end up to Tea. “Tie it around a tree or something.”

  Tea shook her head with a smile. “How much junk do you have in that pack?”

  “More than you know!” Phil said back as her head disappeared from the other side of the trapdoor. It wasn’t long before Tea shouted the all clear and Phil began to heave himself up, a process that became exponentially easier once someone on the other side began to pull up the rope.

  “Bonjour!” Jean’s voice greeted Phil once his arms settled on the grass.

  “Yo!” Phil replied. “Watch out, got a hidden trapdoor here with a player killer underneath.

  Jean sagely nodded. “Oui, I had wondered where you disappeared to. You won?”

  “Tea won,” Phil clarified, “She did well. Got a dueling gauntlet and some star chips for you to boot.” He tossed the glove to Jean, who caught it with a glimmer of delight.

  “Sweet Tea, I cannot thank you enough!" Jean cowed before rushing over to Tea and giving her a big enough bear hug that even Phil, a few feet away from the pair, could hear her back pop as she was lifted up several inches off the ground.

  “Yes, yes, you’re welcome, Jean.” Tea cheerfully groaned once Jean released her.

  “More than that,” Phil said with a mischievous smile, “Tea and Yuges are gonna go on a date!”

  Jean let out a hoot of joy while Tea gave Phil another light-hearted smack upside the head.

  “Our Yugi and our Tea? On a date?” Jean couldn’t help but confirm in a teasing tone. Tea’s cheeks burned a bright red, but she didn’t seem entirely displeased by the idea – more of slightly exasperated by the two weirdos celebrating advancing her love life by another stage.

  “Oh, put a sock in it…” Tea grumbled.

  “Nope!” Phil said. “I get it, gettin’ together with your crush is tricky and embarrassing, but all this dancing around and being mutually embarrassed ain’t gonna help either of you! Even something as simple as a date is progress!”

  “Progress indeed.” Jean nodded and stroked his goatee with an expression of wisdom that would have even put the Greek philosophers of ancient times to shame. “No stalemates or Mexican standoffs allowed in this party, no way, no way.”

  “No way!” Phil spread out his arms to make an ‘X’.

  “Jeez.” Tea shook her head at the antics of the two men. “Put a sock in it, I said! Didn’t you say everyone is out searching?”

  Phil tilted his head consideringly. “Yeah, that’s right. For you, Yugi, and Mai.”

  “Right!” Tea’s eyes flashed with a righteous light. “So let’s go find them!”

  But even as the trio ambled off back to camp to regroup and reorganize, Phil and Jean continued to gleefully speak among themselves.

  “Dinner, right? Just that?” Jean confirmed. Tea’s cheeks began to flush red again.

  “Yup. Start small with easy goals. First the dinner, then who knows what? Ball’s out of our court at that point anyway.”

  “Just an easy push.” Jean nodded. “Good idea. Don’t want to be overbearing.”

  “Yes! No being overbearing!” Tea heatedly agreed. She seemed entirely resigned at this point that the conversation would continue.

  “At Burger World?”

  Phil did not answer Jean’s question, merely turning to glance at Tea to direct it over to her. Her blush intensified.

  “I… that would be nice.” She muttered, fidgeting as she walked.

  “Lotsa’ good memories there.” Phil agreed. The restaurant was a regular hangout spot for the group, so much so that they’d even unofficially claimed a set of tables next to the pinball machine near the back to sit at each time. “Don’t worry. Jean and I will run interference with the others. We won’t let this turn into some stupid fucking teen movie romance subplot with the friend group stalking the date and inevitably making it blow up due to shenanigans.”

  Stolen from its rightful place, this narrative is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

  “Oddly specific, but Phil’s right.” Jean grinned, clearly imagining the chaos of the scene.

  By the time they made it back to the camp, everyone else was present. Tea rushed forward, with Phil and Jean striding in with a more relaxed pace.

  “Yugi! You’re alright!” Tea let a blindingly bright smile slide across her face.

  “Yup!” Yugi nodded. “It was a whole kerfuffle. Mai got snatched up and forced to duel by some big guy calling himself Panik.”

  Phil glanced over at Mai Valentine. No longer was she haughty or arrogant – he could easily tell her loss to Panik had likely followed how it happened in canon, a crushing defeat that saw her entire supply of star chips wiped out, before seeing Yugi slaughter the guy. Not great for the woman's self-confidence, but in Phil's opinion, it was necessary. Joey’s victory against her earlier that day had shaken her beliefs. Panik only served to make the cracks bigger. And then it would all crumble in the semi-finals, when Mai would finally acknowledge the power of friendship?.

  “You beat his ass?” Phil still asked the question he already knew the answer to. Yugi didn’t reply, only making a victory sign with his fingers.

  "Nice." Phil moved forward to fist-bump the kid.

  “So… what happened to you, Tea? Get lost? Have to find a tree somewhere?” Joey snickered and then yelped, his last comment having earned a smack on the head from Tea. That alone caused Rex and Tristan to guffaw even louder as Joey suffered under Tea’s assault.

  "Keep your head out of the gutter!" Tea growled and then continued to speak with a softened tone. "I was looking for Yugi and fell through a trapdoor into a player killer's trap. I won!”

  Joey and Tristan both looked at her in surprise, while Yugi flashed a proud grin across his face.

  “Phil helped.” Tea added on.

  Phil waved off her words. “Nothing more than a bit of cheerleading and a handful of timely suggestions. The rest was all you, girl.”

  “Best of all,” Jean held up his hand to show off the dueling gauntlet, “Jean Dubois, a proud Frenchman and the lucky husband to the most beautiful, kind, loving, and strong Tilla Dubois, has entered the center stage!" He finished that proud declaration with a dramatic bow.

  Jean’s faithful audience clapped politely.

  -=-=-=-=-=-=-=-

  Compared to the battlefield of duelists that was the rest of the island, the inside of the castle, the crown jewel of Duelist Kingdom, was rather peaceful. That was the way the master of the castle preferred it.

  He sat alone at the head of an enormous dining table. A slender man with long silver hair that brushed just past his shoulders, styled in a way that hid his left eye from the world. He wore an elegant red suit like it was a natural part of his being, with ruffles, a thin black tie, and graceful silver shoes. Elegant, aristocratic, and perhaps a tad bit dramatic in fashion.

  Face-up on the table was a comic book. It had been in his hands to read during dinner until mere moments ago. The reason for that was in the shape of a man kneeling before him, clad in the type of sharp black business suit that was preferred by his security team for the island.

  “We found Jill. She’s dead. Murdered. The body of Weevil Underwood was discovered in a battle box nearby. Mark’s missing as well. It’s… it’s a mess. I’ve already got men cordoning the area off for now.”

  Maximillion Pegasus took a sip of the blood-red wine in front of him. He hardly tasted the rare vintage as it slid over his tongue. His heart was as calm and placid as a lake. Death. It was no stranger to him. He’d seen death in Egypt the day he’d received the dual blessing and curse that was the Millennium Eye.

  Pegasus glanced up at the lifelike portrait that dominated the largest wall in the grand dining hall. It was of a beautiful lady with hair like golden thread, eyes as clear and blue as a peaceful pond on a calm spring morning, and a gorgeous blue dress. Pegasus had painted it himself soon after she… passed.

  Cecelia.

  Pegasus knew she wouldn't approve of the lengths he was going to in order to get Kaiba Corps hologram technology for himself. He knew she'd lambast him terribly for what he’d done.

  Perhaps she’d even refuse to ever be with him again. But even so, if he could hear her voice just one more time, even if it was for Cecelia to tell him she never, ever wanted to see his face again, Pegasus would accept that without retort.

  But this… death on his island. That would sadden her most of all.

  And then that calm and placid lake was disturbed by a tide of ice-cold fury, one that felt like it was roaring through his veins from head to toe. Death was no stranger to Maximillion Pegasus. That hardly meant he wanted people to die. Even Solomon Muto and Mokuba Kaiba were merely confined to cards until his match with Yugi Muto could be concluded. No matter how disappointed Cecelia would be in him for doing even that much.

  “Weevil Underwood…” Pegasus took another sip. The rest of the food on his plate was left forgotten amidst the revelations of the evening. An insect duelist, the winner of one of his tournaments, if he remembered correctly.

  If Pegasus also remembered correctly, the boy was only 14 years old. A teenager. He wondered, if Cecelia was still alive, would they have had a child by now? How old would they be? Would his adopted children make sure to play nicely with them?

  Pegasus took a breath in and let it out. That alone was enough to stiffen the posture of the kneeling security guard. Even looking past the innocents in harm’s way, there were still people dear to him on the island. Yako, Gekko, Depre, and Richie were all present, assisting him by whittling down the number of duelists on the island as player killers. They would need to be warned.

  He set the glass of wine down on the table. The sound it made, such a simple tapping of a glass on a wooden surface, seemed to almost reverberate across the grand dining room like a giant was shifting in place.

  The guard’s walkie-talkie buzzed to life. “Signs of an intrusion on floor three, guest room four. I see… oh God, Carlos is down! Sweet Jesus I think a rabid animal got in! He’s torn to shreds!”

  The guard remained in his kneeling position.

  Maximillion Pegasus stood to his full height.

  “The camera room is near that location, no?” Pegasus asked. The guard nodded, daring not to take even a single breath. It was right down the hall from that guest room, two doors to the left.

  There was not a single hint of his usual playful or dramatic self in Pegasus’s bearing at that moment, and his usual flippant and playful manner of speaking was nowhere to be seen, vanishing as if it had never existed to begin with. He was like a different man altogether. Intruders on his island. Interrupting his tournament. Thwarting his plans. Killing his men.

  “Radio the word out. I want player killers working in teams of two and guards in teams of three. I want reports the instant anything strange or otherwise unexplainable occurs."

  Pegasus turned to face the door and walked out of the dining room without another word. The second the doors closed behind him, the terrifying pressure that had filled the room immediately ceased, leaving the guard gasping on the ground covered in a thick layer of sweat that soaked through his suit.

  No. This would not stand. There would be no more death on his island without Pegasus’s explicit permission, as was his right as the master of Duelist Kingdom. Nor would he allow this to threaten the development of his plans.

  Each step Pegasus took moved his body five steps instead. His legs took him down corridors and past rooms in a blur. As he walked, the shadows moved. Eyes poked out from the darkness. Soon, a blood-splattered hallway came into sight. There a grimacing, black-suited man kneeled over a corpse with no arms or legs left attached. The man’s hands were desperately pumping at the corpse’s chest in a futile attempt at CPR. Further down the hall was a small pile of severed limbs neatly stacked together.

  “Retreat.” Pegasus tossed the words over his shoulder. “Cordon off this wing of the castle until I return.”

  He did not wait for the man to acknowledge his words. The doorknob to the camera room turned by itself under his gaze.

  Within the room were rows of monitors showing live video feeds from all across the island. Most showed nothing – empty battle boxes abandoned by duelists until the sun rose once more. Others revealed glimpses of frantic duels against his legion of player killers as duelists fought tooth and nail to defend their star chips and make it to the next morning.

  And in front of the monitors was a cloaked man. The man’s robes shifted, shimmering slightly to almost resemble a security guard's suit before turning back to old, raggedy cloth, and he turned to face Pegasus as soon as the eccentric billionaire entered the room.

  “Maximillion Pegasus,” The man laughed hoarsely, “You came here faster than I planned. Alas, if not for the guard seeing through my disguise, perhaps you would have been chasing naught but my laughter in the wind.”

  Pegasus was able to get a full view of the man’s face now that he had turned, revealing that of an old, yet strange man. The man’s skin was loose and grayish, stinking of the type of rot and decay that normally would accompany a corpse. Moreover, the skin was wizened and wrinkled by extreme age, accompanied by a set of purple, baleful eyes that stared at Pegasus not with malice, but with an extreme and utter indifference.

  The man’s mouth opened once more. Within his mouth was a greyish, worm-like tongue and countless rows of yellow, rotten teeth - a mix of flat molars and tombstone-like incisors that gnashed at the air with each word he spoke.

  “No matter.” The man continued to laugh. The sound was grating to the ear. “I am known to some as Purple Fall.”

  Pegasus silently regarded the strange man before him. The name did not ring any bells. Yet, the man was obviously a mage, from what he’d done to the security guard in the hallway, how he dressed, and how he carried himself. Not to mention his appearance.

  “Possession?”

  One singular word, nothing more than a guess from Pegasus, was enough to make Purple Fall flinch slightly, the action being subdued enough that even Pegasus nearly missed it.

  "Truly, you are a crafty man." Purple Fall admitted with an unnatural, lopsided grin.

  Pegasus walked further into the room. Purple Fall stepped away from the monitors, revealing his rotting teeth with a sneer.

  “No matter. You too, shall fall. So sayeth the wise Red Summer."

  “Unlikely.” Came Pegasus’s reply in clipped tones. Under his hair, his left eye gleamed with a brilliant golden light that washed over the room for several seconds until it was replaced by thick, unnatural darkness. That too originated from Pegasus’s eye, his hair having shifted to reveal the telltale golden glint of a Millennium Item. One by one, the dim glow of the monitors fell dark as whispering shadows rushed to fill the room. Clouds of fog came from their mouths as the temperature of the room plummeted into single digits while frost ran up the walls like a silvery spiderweb.

  A battle between mages had begun.

  Pegasus: 4000 Purple Fall: 4000

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