Phil pretended not to notice how Tilla’s hands trembled as they left the museum. It was never easy talking to a true seer. They had a habit of seeing right through you no matter what you did, as if they were staring through the glass window of a store on Main Street, watching and waiting for half-off and buy-one-get-one-free deals to be set out by the employees. Frankly, even though through his meta knowledge he knew Ishizu was seriously unlikely to turn against them, Phil had still held a few worries himself. It was a part of him he knew that still quaked under the memories of his duel against Sartorius, another true seer, and its direct aftermath. In a way, he wouldn’t be surprised if his own hands were shaking somewhat because of that.

  “So, now we wait?” Tilla’s voice came out steady this time, no longer filled with rougher edges as it had during some parts of the meeting with Ishizu.

  Phil let out a sigh. Oh, how he wished to respond otherwise. Waiting was always one of the hardest parts, when your every instinct screamed at you to act right here and now. That doing so otherwise would be cowardly and pathetic, a stain on the memory of a fallen friend. But what could they do? They had to wait, wait and prepare as much as they could with the information they had at hand.

  “Yeah, pretty much. Ishizu says Battle City starts in two months, and that's where the bastards are gonna pop up. We can keep a lookout until then, but I doubt we’ll see hide nor hair of them until then. Otherwise it’s prep time for us. You know, beef up our decks, familiarize ourselves with the streets, that sort of stuff. When the time comes, we have to hit them hard and fast. We can't lose, we can't get lost, we can't fail to get the locator cards. We gotta play this perfectly. Worst case, we might have to take this all the way to the finals of the tournament.”

  Tilla cast her gaze up to the sky. What had once been evening when they had entered the museum was now night. Stars struggled to light up the sky against the harsh glare of the streetlights dotting the sidewalk, and the pale glare of a half-moon stared down at them like some great lidded eye. Phil’s eyes followed hers.

  The night was quiet, even for a city. There were no sounds of cars shifting onto the highway in the distance. No shouts from people on the sidewalk. It was calm. The air felt clear in their lungs. Phil leaned against the stair railing, his hands in his pockets. Tilla sat down on the stairs.

  For the longest time, Phil and Tilla just waited there at the bottom of the stairs, gazing at the night sky. Not a word was shared between them, nor did there need to be. Seconds led into minutes, which then led to hours.

  “He’s really… gone, isn’t he?” Tilla eventually broke the silence.

  “Yeah.”

  She stood, brushing off the back of her dress with her hands. Phil shot one last look at the stars above. It looked so peaceful up there. Must be nice.

  “Ready?” He asked.

  Tilla gently nodded.

  -=-=-=-=-=-=-=-

  They were silent as they walked back to the Kitamori residence. Phil’s mind had become occupied with Ishizu’s opinion on his cards. Another deck he knew better… but could he get the cards to make it? He had already put Solomon on the lookout for them before going to the island. Did Ishizu see progress being made on that front? That had to be the case. Otherwise she wouldn't have mentioned it. She wouldn't have bothered mentioning something impossible.

  Phil’s mind continued to spin round and round as their legs took them down each street. The cards weren’t rare in his time, but they seemed a bit hard to get here. Rarity hardly seemed to be an issue here. Was it because the cards were individually weak? Duelists in this world did seem to have a stigma against those…

  “YO!”

  A cheerful shout broke through Phil’s thoughts.

  “Oh…” A bit of surprise leaked out from Phil’s mouth. To the right was a familiar sight, a restaurant lighting up the night of the city. It was Burger World, virtually empty other than for a handful of customers and a certain group of teens, one of which stood halfway in the open doorway, mouth poised to give out another yell, while two more of the gang clustered against the window next to their booth, their faces pressed to the glass, a look of cheerful surprise on each one.

  “Sup.” Phil waved to Tristan. The boy beckoned them into the restaurant. Walking inside felt like they were entering an entirely different world. Gone was the peace and serenity of the city at night, now replaced by the golden light of the restaurant and the soft, cheerful hum of conversation that filled the interior.

  “Jeez, you two must’ve had your heads far up in the clouds, halfway up to space or something.” Tristan groused. “I had to yell a couple of times before you even turned around!”

  There was room enough for the two of them to join the rest in the booth. Yugi was there, along with Joey, both of them sitting on the same side. Joey’s head was planted face down on the table, and his only reaction to Phil’s appearance was to let out a depressed mumble of a greeting. Tristan slid in next to the two boys.

  “Tea’s working?” Phil questioned. His words were soon answered as a cup of coffee slid across the table. His hands instinctually caught it in one swift motion that had been practiced over and over in this same booth night after night.

  “Yup!” Tea replied with a blindingly bright smile. True to her words, she was wearing her usual waitress’s uniform. A large serving tray looked like it was balanced precariously atop one of her palms, though Phil knew full well that the tray was actually as steady as could be. Nothing short of an earthquake could shake it from her practiced hands. She placed a basket of fresh French Fries on the table, but as she began to turn away to head back to the kitchen, her eyes caught Phil's, and her smile faltered.

  “Why did you guys miss the ferry? Did you get lost?” Yugi leaned forward to ask, seemingly oblivious to Tea’s change in expression.

  “Yeah! We looked everywhere for you and Jean after the games finished!” Tristan exclaimed. “Sorry we didn’t wait longer for ya. Pegasus put the ferry on a strict schedule, and Yugi's gramps told us you two could manage. I still feel kinda bad, but it looks like he was right, which makes me feel a little bit better now.”

  Phil let out a small sigh of relief. “Shit happened man. You know how it is. Glad you got Solomon back alright. I assume the Kaiba brothers are okay too? What did the rankings end up looking like?"

  Yugi cast a pitying glance toward Joey, whose face was still planted on the table. “I won, Rex got second, Joey came in third.”

  “Shit.” Phil’s breath caught in his mouth. The reason behind Joey’s current state was clear – by coming in third, he wasn’t able to keep the card he needed to turn in for the prize money. Serenity wouldn’t have the money for her surgery. But the look on Yugi’s face… he didn’t seem to know. Did Joey not tell anyone? The kid was a prideful bastard… he probably wouldn’t want to guilt-trip Rex over it…

  This was not the first time Phil cursed his lack of a photographic memory. He truly could not remember if Joey had ever spilled the beans about Serenity until after the surgery was done or not. Was it mentioned on the island? Before? After? Should he mention it…

  A lightbulb flashed to life inside his head. The stolen goods. They would still be on Pegasus’s island… but Pegasus had ceded the loot to Phil and Jean after the shadow duel. If he could get a ferry back to the island… maybe rustle up some help to move the larger items… place to sell the shit could be an issue, but maybe Solomon might know someone or somewhere, the dude did used to be a legitimate treasure hunter after all…

  Phil mentally nodded to himself. Operation Get Serenity’s Sight Back. Combined with the deckbuilding it would be a perfect way to kill two months’ worth of time. Something he could throw himself into wholeheartedly with every ounce of his strength.

  “Say, where’s Jean?” Yugi’s innocent question brought Phil’s thoughts crashing down around him.

  Shit. Jean. How the hell was he going to tell the kids?

  'Hey, innocent schoolchildren, Jean, a man whom you count amongst your friends, was brutally murdered on the island while you guys were finishing up the tournament. He died alone and in pain, and the murderers are still roaming around. Oh, I also completely 100% fully plan on tearing them to shreds and feeding their souls to my carnivorous frog duel spirit as soon as I find them, which according to a random seer that was introduced to me by a probably insane talking stork, will be in two months during a tournament Kaiba will be running to stroke his own ego. I wish you guys wouldn’t be involved with it, but I know you will regardless, because that's the only way to get Atem's memories back, by gathering the Items and conducting the ceremonial duel in Egypt. I am also wanted by the police, who may or may not be dancing like puppets to the tune of the same organization that killed my brother. They have shoot on sight orders and all I can do is lie low and hope my change in appearance is enough to prevent my ass from getting popped.’

  It didn’t sound the best in Phil’s head. Seriously. How the hell was he going to do this without traumatizing the teens for life?

  The silence stretched on to uncomfortable lengths. Tilla’s hands rubbed against each other. Phil took a long, deep sip of his coffee to buy a few more precious seconds. Tea returned from the kitchen with a full coffee pot, ready to make the rounds across the building to fill up cups. As usual, she stopped at Phil’s table first since he usually drank his cup of joe faster than a man fresh out of a desert.

  Damn it. He legitimately didn’t know how to put it gently. He… Fuck. The silence was getting worse by the second. There was no choice. Phil had to rip the band-aid off. It was the only thing he could think of. Jean was their friend. They deserved to know.

  “Jean was murdered on the island.”

  A coffee pot crashed to the floor. Both of Tea’s hands were at her mouth, a look of horror on her face. Yugi and Tristan stared at Phil in pure shock. Even Joey had lifted his head from the table, his deep, crippling depression forgotten once he heard Phil’s words.

  “Son of a…” Tea’s voice trembled, almost hysterically, as she bit away a swear that nearly slipped from her mouth. It was something that would have ordinarily been completely uncharacteristic of her. She pulled out a cloth from the front pocket of her waitress’s skirt, kneeling to clean up the mess of the broken coffee pot with shaking hands. Phil leaped out of the booth to help her.

  “You aren’t… you aren’t joking.” Joey said with a stunned look.

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  Phil picked up a few of the largest fragments of the glass coffee pot and weighed them in his hands.

  "I wish I were." He sadly replied.

  Tilla abruptly stood.

  “I’ll wait outside.”

  No one stopped her.

  "How-" Yugi's voice started, but Joey quickly interrupted him with a furious voice.

  “Did Pegasus do it? I swear if that rat-”

  Phil shook his head. In a monotone voice, he detailed the series of strange events. The midnight duel with Pegasus. Seeing Kounotori Tori the stork stalking the halls. Being thrown from the castle to an upside-down version of it. The duels with Kalim and Malik. Discovering Jean’s body and Phil’s frantic pursuit of the gentleman in the suit. Evading the police. His and Tilla’s meeting with Ishizu Ishtar.

  The last bit of glass fell into Phil’s hand, while Tea’s rag absorbed the final drops of spilled coffee. He looked up with an expressionless face.

  “And that’s that. A word of warning – Battle City is something you guys will probably get dragged into as well. Yugi, if you win there, you’ll get a shot at recovering the other guy’s name and memories. The tournament is important to Kaiba as well, so if you refuse to enter, he'll probably find some way to involve you. However, if anyone introduces themselves to you as Blue Spring, Pink Winter, or… Red Summer…”

  Phil stood and faced Yugi.

  “Duel as if your life is on the line, because it will be.”

  -=-=-=-=-=-=-=-

  Phil didn’t stay long after that. In all honesty, Tea couldn’t blame the guy. The faces of Yugi, Joey, and Tristan were covered in masks of shock. She knew her own hands were shaking so badly that she didn’t dare to pick up anything remotely breakable. Jean was dead. The mere thought seemed impossible. That Frenchman… he was a larger-than-life figure. An always cheerful man who had felt like a permanent fixture in their lives, just like how Phil was to them. Always ready with a boisterous laugh, mere seconds away from trading groanworthy jokes and puns with Phil at any given moment. He couldn’t die. He just… couldn’t. It was as unbelievable as Phil, Yugi, Joey, Tristan, Bakura, or any of their other friends passing away.

  She… couldn’t believe it. It was as if a crucial piece of the world was just… gone, and now everything felt wrong.

  Tea dropped the trash bag of glass shards into the nearest bin. It fell with a large ‘crash’, but she hardly noticed. Her eyes were on the front door closing behind Phil’s back. Outside was Tilla, leaning against a lamppost. The parking lot was otherwise empty, a sight which only seemed to magnify the heavy clouds that seemed to cover their shoulders. Tea didn’t know exactly what caused her legs to lead her toward the door. That caused her palm to grip the handle and pull it wide open. To follow Phil and Tilla out of the restaurant, even as her voice called out unbidden to her friend’s retreating back.

  “Phil!”

  The man stopped and turned. He looked strange to her eyes. Gone was his usual long, snarled beard. He’d shaved it away, claiming it to be a part of his attempt to avoid the notice of the police. It was replaced by a heavy 5 o’clock shadow, one that looked all the darker under the harsh glow of the lights in the parking lot.

  Tea’s voice faltered. She’d belatedly noticed it inside, but again she could see Phil’s eyes. No longer were they filled with laughter, like he was seconds away from sharing some horrendous, vomit-inducing pun, or working on some weird prank with Jean and the other guys. Now they looked like chips of ice.

  “What will you do?”

  It was a stupid question. She knew what he was going to do. Yugi, Joey, and Tristan, bless their hearts, had missed it, but Tea’s eyes were sharper than theirs. Phil had no intention of simply capturing the culprits behind Jean’s… death and turning them into the police. So why did she ask? She shuddered to imagine hearing the answer aloud. It would be like some final blast of reality proving that this was no mere nightmare, that she wasn’t seconds away from waking up in a pool of cold sweat.

  “I’ll take care of it.”

  Tea’s eyes narrowed into a flinty glare. It was an action that made clear her refusal to accept such a flimsy excuse meant to spare her feelings. Phil flinched and then sighed.

  “I am going to commit several felony murders. Please don’t make me elaborate anymore.”

  The way he casually admitted to it made Tea take a full step backward. She could feel the lights of the restaurant settle on her back, while the scattered lights of the parking lot cast a harsh glow on her front. The step was not made out of fear. She could never be scared of Phil, not in a million years. It would be like being scared of Yugi, or Joey, or anyone else she cared about.

  No, that step backward was made out of concern. Phil had said the words so matter-of-factly that Tea had no trouble believing he was capable of taking lives, and that he had probably even done so before. It all fit together like the pieces of a puzzle.

  “Will it make you feel better?” Tea asked. Her voice sounded weak in the air.

  The slightest shake of a head was his answer.

  “No. Not really. Never does. But it’ll give us some closure and make sure those whoresons can’t hurt anyone else. Which they will, if given the chance. Better to put them down and put them down hard before that can happen. Guess it’s almost always that way, huh?”

  Then he turned, tossing a wave of goodbye over his shoulder like it was the most natural thing in the world. And Tea, she stood there, looking at Phil’s retreating back. Silent.

  Eventually, she walked back into Burger World. The atmosphere of the entire building felt somber. Was that just her, or was that reality now? Tea came to a halt next to the booth that Yugi and the rest were sitting at. They… they looked lost. She slid into the seat opposite them.

  “Yugi?” Tea softly began. He looked up at her, his eyes wet with unshed tears.

  “Can you help me get better at dueling?”

  The surprise of her sudden question seemed to snap Yugi out of the cloud of sorrow he had been surrounded by.

  “Phil said those guys are coming back.” Tea continued with an attempt at a firm voice that didn’t really convince anyone at the table, not even her. “When that time comes, I want to help.”

  Yugi’s hands were balled up in fists, which he clenched and unclenched. Then he looked at her. His face was stern, and his eyes were filled with a fire and vigor that always seemed to accompany the other Yugi when he showed up.

  “We’ll all help.” He said in a deep voice. Joey’s fist pounded against the table in agreement.

  "Yeah," Joey growled out. He pounded the table with his fist. "We'll make them regret they were born.”

  “YEAH!” Tristan yelled, standing up on top of his seat. “WE’LL FOLD ‘EM IN HALF!”

  A small, sad smile slipped onto Tea’s face. Her eyes glanced out the window.

  She couldn’t see Phil anymore.

  -=-=-=-=-=-=-=-

  The castle walls felt cold. Colder than usual. Being made of stone and infused with some amount of magic meant that even during the highs of Spring and Summer, it was never particularly uncomfortable inside the castle of Maximillion Pegasus.

  Yet to Yako Tenma, the castle felt cold. Uncharacteristically so. It lent a feeling of wrongness to the entire structure, one that felt like it was burrowing down to the very marrow of his bones as he walked its halls. The sense alone caused him to quicken his pace. A wind whistled through the hallway, causing his long, shoulder-length silver hair to swirl in his wake. Something was wrong. But what? The guards were gone – after several of them had been killed in action against the intruders, his father had ordered them to evacuate, as mere men had little to defend themselves against attacks of a magical nature.

  Those intruders… he wondered what ever happened to them. Had they faded away into the night? Little information had reached his ears about them, not their name, their purpose, not anything other than their willingness to kill. That was the main reason for his march through the castle. For answers.

  Then he reached it. A door. The door. Solid oak, as sturdy as it must have been before it was shaped from tree to door. It stood like a firm barrier between the hall and Pegasus’s office. Yet…

  Yako Tenma's eyes narrowed. His hands shot out from within his long pink coat to grasp the brass handle. The door was ajar by a hairsbreadth. He pushed it open. The mere action felt like moving a mountain with his fingertips alone.

  The scent of warm iron wafted through the widening gap in the door. Yako Tenma wrinkled his nose. Blood? He threw the door open, no longer caring if it was damaged by the action. His eyes widened. His voice let out a shout of despair.

  On the floor, limbs askew like a puppet tossed to the floor, was Maximillion Pegasus. His eyes were glazed over in death as he stared unblinkingly at the ceiling. A trail of drying blood leaked out from under a curtain of silver hair, where Yako Tenma knew the Millennium Eye to be. The lapels of his red suit were wide open to reveal a flower of blood that had grown on his chest. Underneath his body was a large pool of blood.

  “NO!” Yako Tenma fell to his knees next to his adopted father’s cold body. His hands scrabbled at the dead man’s chest, looking for a pulse, a beat, anything that could signify that the man was still alive.

  But he wasn’t.

  Maximillion Pegasus was dead.

  A ragged howl of loss tore from his lips, sounding like the cry of a wounded animal. He pounded his fists against the floor.

  “A vile betrayal, is it not?” A cold voice spoke from behind him. Yako Tenma whirled around to face the speaker.

  The one behind the voice was a tall man, skinny like a scarecrow clad in human flesh. His body was draped in a long, black, ill-fitting cloak, the fabric of which was covered in an unknowable number of strange and mystical sigils. The face of the man was obscured by the hood draped over his head, though from within the shadows peered out a pair of blindingly bright blue eyes that seemed to pierce through the darkness to stare at Yako Tenma.

  “Who are you! What is your business here!” Yako Tenma shouted. He’d taken a ready stance, with one hand inching toward his belt, where the card case for his Duel Monsters deck was held.

  “Ah, allow me to introduce myself. I am known to some as… Blue Spring.” The man’s voice sounded as if warm honey was dripping into Yako Tenma’s ears. “A tragedy, for a man as great as Maximillion Pegasus to be so cruelly backstabbed, is it not? Even when he so magnanimously followed his word to let the boy’s grandfather go.”

  Yako Tenma’s eyes sharpened. “Yugi Muto? Was he behind this?”

  “This treachery?” Blue Spring’s head shifted under his hood, as if the man was tilting his head slightly. “A part. A part of a many-layered plan.”

  “How do you know this?”

  Once more, Blue Spring's head shifted under the hood.

  “I am… you could say a colleague… of Maximillion Pegasus. We both share a certain… understanding of the Millennium Items. His fixation was devoted to the return of his wife, taken from his arms well before her time. Mine… is perhaps similar. The return of a soul, or souls, to their mortal body, matching it perfectly so that the end result is a human of perfect health.”

  His brows furrowed. From what he understood of his adopted father’s purpose… it made sense. Then…

  “Tell me of their plan.”

  A pale hand reached out from under Blue Spring’s sleeve to gesture at the office.

  “First, one must understand Maximillion Pegasus to be a mage of formidable power, one backed by the strength of a Millennium Item. He is not a man who can be dealt with through ordinary means. This is a trait shared by most of those who have gained the mastery of a Millennium Item. However, shadow duels do take a toll on any mage, no matter their power. The only difference is how many they can withstand. Knowing that, this one wonders what would happen if a mage, even one of Maximillion Pegasus's caliber, were subjected to multiple consecutive shadow duels?"

  Blue Spring began to pace, ticking off each fact on one of his fingers.

  “A midnight duel – as foul as an ambush that could be and staged as a non-lethal shadow game to those who are not aware of the enemy’s true intentions. The man known as Phillip Jenson was the culprit of that. Followed by a battle between Millennium Items, exhausting Pegasus to the utmost. You should already be aware of the participants in that. And finally, the coup de grace, an ambush when least expected. I do not know for certain who struck the blow, but I imagine it may have been both of them.”

  Blue spring gestured toward Pegasus's body. Yako Tenma, though he was loath to look, followed the man's move.

  “A dagger in the night. The weapon of a coward. After two extremely strenuous shadow duels, Pegasus likely did not have the strength to retaliate. Can you smell it? In the air? The stench of magic. Something was used to slow his reactions further. It had to be a powerful piece of magic, as even when weakened, Pegasus was no mere man. It had to be the work of a Millennium Item.”

  Blue Spring continued to speak, but Yako Tenma was no longer listening. His gaze had become flinty. His blood pounded in his ears, drowning out all other noise in the office.

  “The Millennium Puzzle. Cowards.” Yako Tenma spat out the word as if it were venom. He surged to the other end of the office, approaching Pegasus's desk and brushing a painting aside to reveal a hidden wall safe. His shaking fingers punched in three numbers. Each one had been burned into his memory through countless nights of study.

  The safe creaked open. The interior of the safe had no jewels, nor cash, nor land deeds, nor anything else typically stored inside a safe. There were only three objects inside the safe. Three Duel Monsters cards. Yako Tenma cast a saddened glance toward Pegasus's fallen body.

  “I’m sorry.” He murmured. He would have given anything to remove these cards from the safe for any other reason than this. And then his hand reached into the safe to pull the cards out. The moonlight falling through the window illuminated their names.

  The Wicked Eraser.

  The Wicked Dreadroot.

  The Wicked Avatar.

  All three cards could challenge the gods themselves. Even from his barest touch, he could feel their surfaces thrum with an invisible power. Yako Tenma stared at Blue Spring with a look that radiated pure, undiluted hatred.

  “Tell me. Where can I find the filth responsible?”

  A pair of blue eyes stared back at him from the shadow of the hood. Under that, a grin formed, one of brilliant white teeth that seemed to shine through the shadows.

  “Have you heard of a tournament known as ‘Battle City’?”

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