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Chapter Text

Chapter 1, Part 1: Playmaker

(Ten years ago)

White walls.

Six kids.

One, in particular, hears a voice.

“Three. Three things. Think of three things to stay alive.”

A child with blue and pink hair slung across a white floor looks up, the words fueling him like a small fire yet to burn bright.

“Who are you?” The child asks. “Let me save you!”

The silence comes next and then, in a passage of time quite timeless, the men from the outside world take him away.

~~~

(Five years ago)

A tower stands amongst crumbling ruins, a lake of lava burning with harsh, angry colors around its structure. Magma laps against a shore of forgotten stone as a lone figure raises up a hand. A man of a glass mask bares his teeth and lets his demon-like gold eyes settle upon the sky. Above him, two black dragons with green spheres embedded in their body hover silently, their masters’ orders yet to be determined. In front of them, lingering in the sky of green clouds, lies a red magic circle. Several beings captured in ovals of reddish light struggle, screaming as they try to flee.

“How dare you attack our home!” A yellow being shouts.

“We don’t deserve this,” a blue being agrees, its golden eyes piercing and yet somehow weak in effect.

The man with the glass mask flashes his gaze to her and curls his lips. “You don’t deserve to live, either,” he spits. “You’re a nuisance, a pest, a parasite. You will serve as humanity’s downfall if I let you live.”

“But we have no intentions of harming humanity!” a green being snarls.

“Nor do we wish to bring mischief upon your world,” a red one adds.

“We only want to help humanity, not destroy it!” a orange humanoid whimpers, struggling against the effects of the circle.

“If that were true, you wouldn’t have toyed with us to the point of murder. Your kind is an abomination and you’ve threatened humanity quite enough. Had you not followed your folly, we would not be doing this today. Is that not right, Ignises of the Cyberse?”

The beings – the Ignises – fall silent, agreement an unspoken word. The man shakes his head, nearly laughing. “So you know very well why we have to eliminate you. Very well then, Cracking Dragon! Devour them!”

The dragons roar, the approval of their master spurring them forward. They launch themselves out and open their mouths, revealing large sets of teeth which the man has no doubt are ready to kill. He smiles, eager to be relieved of the burden he has put upon himself, when a bright flash sends his dragons cowering.

In a moment’s time, a monstrous creature forms from the shadows of the green-painted sky. A black form with markings of glowing purple and an eye of illuminated gold manifests, its form grand and ominous as it unravels.

“…The last Ignis,” the man says, beholding it with a form of awe. He regains himself quickly and sweeps out a hand. “Destroy it.”

The creature screams, six wings flaring from its side as the Cracking Dragons try to attack it. The black Ignis fights against them, screeching and yowling as it bites at the dragons which threaten to devour it.

At first, the man in the glass mask worries it won’t be enough. The creature fends off the attacks of the dragons without worry, biting and chewing into the creatures as if they were an easy meal. However, in due time, it becomes apparent that the Ignis was just as weak as he’d imagined, faltering in its attacks until slowly, ever so slowly, it becomes driven back.

With an otherworldly screech, the thing rises and flees into the sky, darting past clouds of murky green to escape into the universe above.

The man sweeps out his arm. “Don’t let it escape!”

Heeding their master’s command, the dragons make haste, pursuing after the creature without hesitation. They open their mouths, eager to land a bite, and are restricted by an invisible force field manifested into place.

“Damned Ignis!” The man shouts. To an invisible person, he screams: “Break it down!”

The force field wavers in no more than five seconds and vanishes in more than ten. The Cracking Dragons, wasting no time, vanish from the world. The man holds up an arm and, from the device around his wrist, a screen appears to read before him a scene almost unbelievable.

The black Ignis shrinks down into a humanoid form, pausing for a moment to squeeze the world before him into a single piece.

The man, scowling, disappears from the world and reappears in another, a room of black and green lines awaiting him. His screen hovers before him and he relishes in the sight: his Cracking Dragons reaching up to devour the Ignis.

In one moment, he thinks the whole thing is done and over. He breathes a sigh, relieved.

“At long last,” he says, “it’s over. Humanity is saved.”

In the next, he replays the footage and realizes that he’s wrong, that the Ignis has escaped. A lone eyeball floats up from the mouth of the creature that has devoured it’s body, the widening of its pupil suggesting its liveliness before it sinks into the flow of data fragments and disintegrates.

He raises a hand. Immediately, a horde of figures manifests before him, silent as they kneel to their knees and await their orders.

“Find it!” He shouts. “Find the Ignis! I want it gone.”

The servants flee from sight, disappearing in blurs of white.

The man balls his hands into fists, nails tearing into skin. He hisses, wincing at the impact as a spectral man appears by his side. The newcomer bows, a frown worn upon his face as he says:

“Master Revolver, your father wishes to see you.”

The man, Revolver, tenses. Golden eyes close and then open, a sigh following the movement.

“I see,” he says. “Thank you, Spectre.”

And he turns into the darkness, stepping into a portal of distorted ripples to pass through the veil of a virtual world.

“Father’s not going to be happy.”

~~~~

(Five Years Ago)

The Data Storms vanish.

Shoichi Kusanagi first takes notice when the news fuels itself into an uproar. He doesn’t know how it first starts or why, but the internet is filled with nothing but gossip page after page. Clips of accidents in Link VRAINS - the VR version of the Duel Monsters card game – proliferate throughout the Internet like a cat video gone viral. Shoichi can barely go one minute without seeing videos of horrific accidents. He can barely go without seeing pictures of kids on hoverboards crashing to the ground and of traumatized parents demanding to speak to those in charge. He can barely go on five minutes without seeing pictures of “before” and “after”, of purple streams of energy threading through parts of the VRAINS only to see those very same areas deprived of such a natural phenomenon later. Shoichi has to wince when he sees the photos of broken necks and awkwardly splayed bodies, of kids who will never wake up again and those who will with great anguish, and of a Link VRAINS now devoid of the purple streams which once made up a great majority of its mystery...

Mass hysteria overtakes Den City in less than ten hours and already the need for a riot is made evident within less than five. SOL Technologies, founder of Link VRAINS, has already taken to protect their corporation, eager to arm themselves as their representative, a woman known as Queen, takes the stage to explain her side of the story.

“Due to the exploits of a group of hackers known as the Knights of Hanoi,” she tells the crowd ready for appeasement waiting inside a plaza, “Link VRAINS has been temporarily shut down. SOL is currently facing many difficulties due to Hanoi’s exploits and are working as fast as possible to fix the error in our systems. My heartfelt apologies go to anyone whose son or daughter has been lost due to our negligence. We plan to compensate families of this disaster as quick as we can and are working on a solution.”

Without fail, the word “Hanoi?” ripples through, hushed murmurs of concern and confusion beckoning attention away from that of SOL. Shoichi isn’t quite sure what “Hanoi” is or even what it means. All he knows is that the word sends a shiver down his spine, a shudder of forebode which threatens to haunt his well-being without reason. Queen watches from her pedestal, sunglasses obscuring her eyes as she frowns and peers at them all.

Shoichi observes the woman as she does so, his gaze trained on her posture and words. Queen, he first thinks, is a very good liar. Despite the way the crowd eats out of the palm of her hands, gobbling up her fear-mongering nonsense about “Hanoi”, there is something awfully wrong about her. She’s persuasive, that he can admit, and her words do provide a valid explanation to the problem at hand, but it’s the way she goes about telling it that has Shoichi concerned.

For one, her voice is too monotonous, too passive. She speaks with little emotion, her tone nearly uncaring although its cleverly masked behind her serious and grave attitude. Then, her answers are good, too good , almost as if she was well-aware of her company’s position and how to push the blame on her company off on some foreign entity. The sunglasses obscuring her eyes don’t help her imae either, shielding the woman’s true expression in a way that Shoichi very much doubts is an unintentional choice.

SOL Tech is somehow involved with the incident…Shoichi dares to think, watching as Queen addresses the complaints of news reporters with flawless practice.

Still, Shoichi’s not sure if he’s one to judge. Despite his rather cynical view, he’s also not sure if his clouded thoughts are to be declared true, either. He knows what it’s like to lose someone, to lose family, and to see the way the Data Stream Incident (as it would be called, later) tore families asunder made him want to rake his nails across the fabric of reality.

It was bad enough to know that his brother was forever gone from him, but it was another to see the lives of children he might never know taken from their parents as well. Whether SOL was behind the sudden disappearances of the Data Storms, Shoichi did not know. What he did know, however, was that he needed a scapegoat, any scapegoat, if only to place the blame on the tragedy of such an event.

“Hanoi,” he muses, “SOL Tech…”

He tosses the two words in his mouth, biting into a mound of ashes. Neither name tastes like candy on his tongue yet neither name resonates with the bitter anger inside him.

“Children…killed…hurt…”

He thinks of a boy tucked into a hospital room and curls his hands into fists. He tries to clear his head and, failing to, asks himself a question to distract away his angry thoughts:

“Why did the Data Storms disappear…?”

~~~~

(Two Years Ago)

VRAINS_Life: I’m telling u!! I rly saw him!! Playmaker!!

Ghost Girl: You know he’s just a myth, right?

VRAINS_Life: No I swear >o< He was in the newbie area, right next to the bridge!! He was fighting a Hanoi dude!!

Ghost Girl: No way O.o

Blood Shepherd: He’s lying. I’ve looked into him before for a client and he doesn’t exist.

Ghost Girl: Same here. Well, I haven’t looked into him very closely, but he doesn’t exist in SOL’s database as far as I know :Oc

VRAINS_Life: I s2g he does exist tho!! I even got a picture of him while in VRAINS!! See!! Look:::

(VRAINS_Life added an image: lookathisguysomg.jpg)

Ghost Girl: …

Blood Shepherd: …

VRAINS_Life: What…What’s going on…

(Error: This File Does Not Exist)

~~~

(Two Years Ago)

The news has been, lately, abuzz with tales which thread through the network like strings of a spider web. Urban legends mock the forums of online gaming, tales of easter eggs and mystic heroes intertwining until, ultimately, a fable is created.

It starts, of course, with the Knights of Hanoi. Hanoi (as was the easier nickname to spout), was an organization of hackers that had, since the Data Stream Incident, become more prevalent in the net. Of course, their presence was a well-known concern. Many feared the appearance of white-hooded avatars or of the leaders who were said to pull the strings from the shadows. No one knew why they appeared, or what they wanted, but when they were encountered there was only one consensus that was agreed upon by players throughout the world of Link VRAINS:

Run.

The Knights of Hanoi were ruthless, merciless. Though they were a bunch of hackers who claimed to follow some noble purpose, they were no better than a bunch of criminals armed with virtual knives. If anyone crossed their paths or refused to make peace with their demands, one would simply find their player account deceased or, worse yet, as the rumors foretold, their bank account depleted of money and their identity confiscated. The Knights of Hanoi were no lowly threat and nor were they treated like one either. They were considered some of the worst people of the century, earning a reputation so horrendous that the world quavered at their very mention.

SOL Technologies, founder and head company of Link VRAINS, had labeled Hanoi officially as terrorists. After a series of crimes (namely: hacking, threatening a government official, and countless other offenses) that had accumulated into a bounty for any information on Hanoi , it became well-established that Hanoi was to be feared.

Still, such horrors did little to dissuade the citizens of Den City to continue using Link VRAINS. Many entered the virtual world with knowledge of such threats and many neglected their fears to partake in the wonders of a world built around card-games and online friendships.

And, perhaps, there was a reason why the citizens of Den City acted the way they did.

Because of him.

Playmaker.

The mysterious hero whose name haunted Link VRAINS.

Two years after the Data Stream Incident and the beginning of Hanoi’s arrival came the rumors of a mysterious player who fought on the behalf of the public to counter their evil deeds.

“Playmaker”, the rumors called him, alleging to the supposed username glimpsed by a collective few, was a special kind of duelist. There were never any true sightings of him, and the username didn’t exist in the official Link VRAINS registry (however, nor could it be used by any player, as everyone soon found out). Many a whisper of him came from secretive hacker forums on the net, tall tales being told as the rumor grew in popularity and the need for a make-believe hero became all the more evident.

Yet, as the Knights appeared more frequently across the web, so too did the sightings of Playmaker. It was almost as if there was a correlation between Hanoi’s treacherous deeds and the presence of the only one said to be able to fight them. Many other duelists had tried to combat the nuisance that was Hanoi (including, of course, Bounty Hunters, Charisma Duelists, and a fair amount of do-gooders) but few had actually succeeded in the task.

Perhaps, in hindsight, that was why so many flocked to the idea of Playmaker. Urban legend or not, his mythical presence was a boon of hope to all those terrorized by Hanoi’s endeavors. It mattered little whether or not Playmaker actually existed. For some, he was an icon of hope, a competent figure of protection who would seek to forever rid the world of evil. For others, he was a clever scheme, one spun by SOL to enrich their wealth, drawing in new players curious to sight him for themselves. Little knew if he was real and little cared because, as far as rumors went, he was a tourist attraction meant to entice visitors worldwide to participate in the saga of his mystery.

After all, so long as legends are passed down throughout time and space, they cease to exist as fake.

For, while the Playmaker they knew was of nothing more than a visceral image, his existence touched the hearts of many.

Hope.

Courage.

A way to counter the fear that Hanoi spread in the network.

If they clung on to him, to that ideology, then perhaps…

But, then again, perhaps not.

After all, the hero of this story also fights against the people he’s supposed to protect.

~~~

(Present Time)

White.

A world of white.

He’s younger.

Far younger.

The boy hears the sound of wind, feels it tug at him. He presses into it, feeling it like a mother’s touch. The world around him is made of faded colors that spill onto a blank canvas, multiple colors spread out like paint far too diluted by water. It’s almost nostalgic to stand in this world, to see the bushes that form from faded pastel green and the gray skyscrapers which reach up far past his view. White paints a majority of his picture, biting into bits and pieces in the form of an eventual gradient. He smiles dreamily at such a view, reaching out little hands for the moments of a time long since passed.

“Three…”

A voice, young and immature, manifests in the boy’s ears.

“Think of three things…”

The white picture of the boy’s vision bleeds dry of any colors. A figure of black appears in front of him, a near replica of a human child as its white-pupiled blue eyes look up at him. He reaches for it, his eyes wide and the beginnings of tears shared in both corners of his eyes, and bends down to inspect the silver shackles which bind to its wrists.

“Who did this to you? Where are you? Let me help you!”

The figure collapses to the ground, white bleeding from its wrists and eyes. It opens a silver mouth, screaming:

“No!”

~~~

Yusaku Fujiki opens his eyes.

The world before him manifests in a classroom full of empty seats and a TV screen that flickers with images of an elaborate math equation. He looks over the equation, squints at its blurriness, and then sidles back in his seat to cover an emerging yawn.

“Woah!” a voice shouts and Yusaku has to keep from wincing as it attacks his ears. “I didn’t think you were awake!”

“I am now,” Yusaku offers flatly, peering at his unwelcome conversation partner with drowsy eyes. “Who are you again?”

A plump boy with green hair meets his gaze, eyes wide with a kind of energy that eludes Yusaku. “Naoki! Naoki Shima!” The boy pulls back, frowning. “You’re telling me you haven’t memorized the names of your classmates yet?”

“No,” he admits with a shrug. “But, I haven’t needed to pay attention to names either.”

The boy – Naoki – contemplates the answer with a haughty grin almost sarcastic in nature. “That’s kind of sad. You must not have any friends.”

“Yeah, well, thanks for asking,” Yusaku leans back, blinking his eyes free of sleep.

Naoki flashes Yusaku a grin and, after an awkward moment’s pause, continues to bare his wrist in Yusaku’s sight of vision.

“Do you know what this is?” The boy asks, gesturing to the device strapped watch around the boy’s wrist.

“A watch,” Yusaku offers in monotone.

“Wrong!” Naoki gestures frantically to the device. “Don’t you recognize what this is?”

He offers it a glance. “Oh,” Yusaku muffles a yawn, “that. Isn’t it one of the new Duel Disks developed by SOL Technologies?”

“Indeed!” The boy pulls back, grinning with wide-eyed approval. “This little thing is one of the first models of its kind. I was gifted one by a member of the dueling club as a freebie but these things are expensive! They go for four hundred thousand yen a pop, you know?”

“Huh. I see.”

The boy flashes off his object yet again, oblivious to Yusaku’s half-lidded expression. “Hey,” he asks, “have you been in Link VRAINS before? ”

Yusaku’s gaze shifts to something more alert. “Why would I want to go to Link VRAINS?”

The boy nearly clutches at his heart, astonished at such a proclamation. “W-Why…” He takes in a deep breath. “Link VRAINS is the best! You can duel online, in real-time and show off your skills as a duelist! It’s every normal person’s dream!

“Well, not everyone likes dueling either,” Yusaku mutters, his gaze drawn to the floor.

“What was that?”

The blue-haired boy shakes his head. “Never mind. It’s nothing. Rather…is it possible you duel in Link VRAINS?”

A horrified look grows on Naoki’s face and the boy shakes his head vehemently. He takes a step back, gaping. “Me? No way! Only the best of the best can go into Link VRAINS! All the pros are there! Charisma Duelists, Top Ranked Fighters, and all kinds of other duelists who are the cream of the crop! Even the Bronze duelists are far ahead of me!”

“I see,” Yusaku stands up, pushing aside his chair.

“There’s so many great players there I can’t possibly match up to them,” Naoki continues, heedless of the tired glance Yusaku gives him, “I mean, there’s Blue Angel and Golden Light and even those nasty cyber-hackers, the Knights of Hanoi!”

Yusaku pauses in a mid-yawn to peer at Naoki. “The Knights of Hanoi?”

“Yeah, they’re a crazy bunch of people that everyone’s scared of. Of course, I’m not scared of them but I’m also not stupid enough either to go into Link VRAINS anyways.” Yusaku raises an eyebrow but, if Naoki sees it, he doesn’t comment on it. “But, well, you shouldn’t have to worry if you ever do decide to go to Link VRAINS!”

“And why is that?”

“Because of Playmaker!” Naoki’s voice jumps up a note higher and stars shine in his eyes. “He’s the coolest and most mysterious duelist out there! He’s the only one brave enough to stand up to the Knights of Hanoi and win according to what I’ve heard! Some say he’s an urban legend though but I don’t believe that at all.”

The boy’s eyes narrow. “Do you…have any proof that Playmaker exists?”

Naoki stumbles, staring at Yusaku as if his question was unwarranted. “No?” He says. “The guy’s a mysterious duelist for a reason. No one’s gotten a shot of him yet but there’s also a lot of people claiming they’ve seen him!”

“If I were you, I would disregard those people,” the blue-haired boy speaks, his voice monotonous but with a hint of something wary. “He’s probably called an urban legend for a reason. Because, after all, what kind of duelist can handle the Knights of Hanoi on their own if they’re as scary as you say they are?”

Naoki quiets for a second, taking in that insight with a frown before he stubbornly shakes his head. “Come on, Fujiki!” He exclaims, disbelief pinched in his voice. “Playmaker does exist, I’m sure he does! Even if I’ve never seen him and have no proof, there’s no way you can tell me he doesn’t exist!”

Yusaku holds up a hand. Naoki watches in puzzlement, squinting at the shape of three fingers that manifest before him.

“As much as I want to say that you are right and that Playmaker exists, I have three reasons why I believe that this legendary duelist isn’t actually real.”

One finger ticks down.

“First: Despite having been claimed to have been seen by many people beforehand, there has been absolutely no concrete evidence presented to prove that Playmaker exists.”

A second finger folds.

“Second: If Playmaker really did exist, SOL would likely have his account name and password on file as all players of Link VRAINS are required to have those two things to log in. However, according to local sources and even from SOL themselves, no such information exists.”

The last finger falls down into Yusaku’s palm and the boy drops his hand.

“Third: If Playmaker truly was capable of handling the Knights of Hanoi all by himself, then why are the Knights of Hanoi still around? If one player can manage to defeat a mass group of skilled hackers, then why hasn’t the threat of Hanoi been eliminated yet? It makes no sense.

“Therefore, under these three reasons, it is more reasonable to assume that Playmaker is nothing more than an urban legend than an actual player.”

Yusaku finishes his conclusion with a frown and watches as Naoki stares at him, wide-eyed.

“However,” Yusaku continues without hesitating, not seeking a reaction, “believing in Playmaker isn’t such a bad thing either.”

The boy holds up three fingers yet again, counting down one by one.

“First: Playmaker’s existence seems to give people hope that the Knights of Hanoi are not as infallible as they seem. If people believe that the Knights of Hanoi can be defeated in a duel, it gives them more a sense of safety about being in Link VRAINS.

“Second: Playmaker’s existence is harming no one. In fact, all the rumors about him seem to be helping Link VRAINS remain as one of the most popular VRMMOS as well as to boost the revenue it is earning. The only real downside of Playmaker seems to be the fact that, despite the claims of him being real, he does not exist.

“And, third: Your belief in Playmaker shows that you appreciate him as a role model and what he represents. You seem to be lacking skills in dueling, or at least the courage to enter into Link VRAINS, but your insistence on Playmaker’s existence shows that you aren’t so easily swayed by others either. Regardless of the fact that he does not exist, your faith in him shows that you are a good person.”

Naoki’s jaw, at this point, has dropped to the floor. The green-haired boy stares at him, flabbergasted, and then stomps his foot on the floor and huffs.

“Whatever!” He says, throwing his hands up in the air. “Your three reasons don’t mean anything to me! Playmaker does exist, I’m sure of it, and nothing you say can convince me otherwise!”

He leaves the room in a flurry, hands curled into fists and shoulders raised as he disappears outside the classroom walls. Yusaku watches him go with a yawn, picking up his bag while readying to leave for-

And then something stabs him in the heart and his eyes widen, panic racing through him. Adrenaline sweeps through his body and he stands, alert, his bag dropping back to the ground.

Yusaku blinks, and the world he sees before him collects into pixels. A world of skyscrapers hangs over him, large and massive as he flees through their midst.

The boy is running, ceaselessly running, carrying himself down a pipeline which seems stupendously large compared to his feet. He hears beeping noises behind him, feels the rush of nausea that runs through him and the annoyance that pricks at his skin…

And then he blinks yet again and the image disappears. The feelings dissipate from his body, the stress and panic evaporating as he shakes his head and picks up his bag. Yusaku makes a move to exit the classroom but, before he escapes, his eyes slide back to the security camera that hovers at the ceiling, his gaze guarded.

“Again,” he says, his words hanging in the air. “I felt it again.”

~~~

Extra Super Hot News!!!

SOL Technologies is holding an extra special event tonight in Link VRAINS. Watch as the best duelists in all of Den City take on each other in a week long competition known as the Charisma Cup! The Charisma Cup will start off with an exhibition match between Blue Angel, the idol of Link VRAINS, and Go Onizuka, an up-and-coming duelist whose skills as a duelist have earned him potential eyes from sponsors! Look forward to seeing it this afternoon 6:30 pm!

[This post was approved by SOL Technologies]

~~~

A breath of air. A stiffly-fixed tie. Blue and cyan hair combed neatly. A polished blue suit and a white shirt underneath. Blue pants and shining shoes.

Akira Zaizen steps into an endlessly long chamber, darkness clinging to him like a mist. He strides across a platform, stopping at the edge of it to watch as the room shifts and warps. Underneath his feet, the platform turns into a chessboard, checkered tiles of black and white spreading all around him. Five giant holograms in the form of chess pieces await his presence and he bows before them.

“Zaizen,” one of the chess pieces – a rook – shines with blue light, “we’ve heard you’ve located the Ignis?”

“I have,” the man says with an affirmative nod. “My team pinpointed an Ignises’ manipulation in the system just one hour prior. We are now looking into the possibility of using a security scan to lure it out of hiding.”

“A security scan is dangerous,” a second chess piece – a knight – chides with disapproval low in its voice. “We’d be making ourselves easy targets for Hanoi if we do that.”

“And I realize that,” Akira states, “but while that’s an almost certainty, the longer we wait to relocate the Ignis, the more amount of time Hanoi has to find it. It is likely that they’ve already realized much like we have that the Ignis is in Link VRAINS. If we don’t act now, they might find it before we do.”

“I see your point,” Rook states. “Still, doing so will cause some upset with our player base.”

“But losing the Ignis might cost us even more,” Knight adds. “The Ignis and its technology could help repair Link VRAINS. After all, ever since that incident five years ago the network has slowly been falling under Hanoi’s control. We should try Zaizen’s idea. With the Ignis, we can finally fight back.”

“But…even so…”

“I understand your plight, Rook. We have much to lose from a security sweep, but we also have much to gain. It won’t be easy, though. Hanoi has hackers on their side, and they far outnumber us.” Knight pauses. “But, we also have access to bounty hunters. If we offer them a prize, we can easily put them under our control.”

“That’s true.” Rook makes a sound of choked agreement. “Zaizen, we will give you permission to perform the security check. However, in return, I want you to stir up the idea that this Ignis, if in the right hands, can easily be negotiated with by money. If we can sway the bounty hunters to do our work for us then perhaps we can ward off Hanoi’s advances.”

“That can be arranged,” Akira nods his head. “I can call someone more than capable of that.”

“Good,” Knight speaks with a voice that would assume a nod of reciprocation. “Perform the security scan two hours from now, but be wary of Hanoi’s advances. They will not be easily avoided and it is doubtless they’ll appear when we are at our weakest. Prepare for them as best you can.”

“Understood.”

“Then you are dismissed,” Rook says.

Akira gives another nod and then watches as the room fades back into a long corridor with an empty hallway. He pauses, his gaze flicking over the darkness before he turns around and exits the room.

He’s got a job to do.

~~~

BlueAngel_WEEB: Gosh, can’t wait to see Blue Angel up there on the stage again >o< Hope she pummels this newbie into the ground tonight!!

DuelistsLOL: U talking ‘bout the Charisma Cup?

BlueAngel_Weeb: What else could I be talking about??? Unless you know something about Blue Angel that I don’t???

DuelistsLOL: nah, bro. I was just making sure

I_love_to_watch_the_world_burn: Who is this Go Onizuka anyways? I know he’s BA’s opponent but, like, who is he?

DuelistsLOL: some guy who won the opportunity to fight BA in the exhibition match, I guess. LOL tho bc I don’t think he’s any good at dueling. I mean, have you seen his deck? His cards seem pretty useless tbh

BlueAngel_Weeb: It doesn’t matter how good his cards are :/ Blue Angel’s gonna OHKO him Round 1 guaranteed

I_love_to_watch_the_world_burn: lmao, ain’t that the truth

BlueAngel_Weeb: Go Go Blue Angel!!! \>o</

~~~

A dark room filled with green and white lights sits. A screen of white hovers, watched by a man with gray hair and a white lab coat on his person.

Revolver appears from a portal of molten silver, stepping out of a ripple-like entrance to set foot in the new room. He approaches the man with tentative unease, settling by his side as he observes the screen.

“Is SOL making their move?” He asks, watching as drones of white and black sweep over the city from the view on the screen.

“It would seem so.”

“A security check?”

“That’s what I believe,” the man turns to meet Revolver’s gaze, golden eyes reflecting those of pure yellow. “It seems that SOL received the same signal we did. I imagine they’re trying to act as fast as possible to ensure we don’t get the Ignis first.”

“Then we need to get to it before they do,” Revolver flicks a hand and opens up a screen of his own. “I’ll give a message to everyone online right now that this is a mission of top priority.”

Revolver taps a few buttons and, after a minute, the message sends.

“There, it is done.”

“Thank you, Revolver.”

The boy nods. After a few seconds of silence, a phantom figure with platinum-blond hair appears by Revolver’s side, bowing to him with an arm clasped to his chest. The boy’s face is shadowed, blue eyes glittering in the darkness of the room as he utters his words:

“Master Revolver, there is a recent issue brought to my attention that I would like to address.”

“What is it?”

“Some of our members are becoming tired of Playmaker’s pestilent presence in Link VRAINS. They’re asking for you to remove him entirely or do anything that can prevent him from interfering in their missions. It seems many of our players are becoming fed up with Playmaker’s ever-continuing interference. I would suggest we address the problem in some way, if only to soothe our members from lashing out against us.”

“That is an interesting concern,” the boy speaks, “but I’m afraid I’ll have to address it after this mission is done. Tell those dissatisfied that I will be working on a solution when the Ignis is ours, Spectre.”

“Yes, Master Revolver.”

The man – Spectre – bows and then disappears in an instant.

“Playmaker, huh?”

Revolver looks over at the other person left in the room, watching as the older man cups his chin and stares at the screen before him.

“Is that name familiar to you?” He inquires.

“No, I just find it to be an odd name.” The man responds with a lilt of curiosity in his voice. “For an independent player, Playmaker is sure a bizarre word to choose. He doesn’t seem concerned with playing in a team or bringing people on to his side. He only seems to care about defeating us, though the reasons for that are something I cannot myself fathom.”

“We’ve made many enemies,” Revolver states quietly, the hush of the room threatening to swallow him whole.

“That we have. Perhaps he’s a special agent of SOL then. A puppet of theirs, if you will.”

“They’d make more of an effort to publicize him if that was true,” Revolver states.

“Perhaps. Perhaps SOL is also changing tactics. Remember, they want the Ignis as much as we do.”

The boy’s calm face twists with remembrance, malforming into something dark and heavy.

“That they do.”

“Enough of that, however,” the gray-haired man waves a hand and the giant screen that illuminates the room disappears. “I think it’s about time I go. I can’t stay here much longer.”

“Understood. Take as much time as you need.”

“I will. I trust you to take care of the Ignis, Revolver.”

The boy holds a hand to his chest and nods. “You can count on me.”

“Indeed I can.”

The man disappears and, alone, Revolver reopens the screen and flicks his hands to peer at the insides of Link VRAINS.

“Fate is on our side.”

~~~

Ghost Girl: Hey, have you heard? Apparently SOL Technologies is offering up a secret bounty rn!!

Daddy Long Legs: A bounty? For what?

Blood Shepherd: Another rogue player perhaps?

VRAINS_Life: Ooo yeah that might be it.

Ghost Girl: Nope! You’re both wrong! This time, they’re after an AI!

Blood Shepherd: An...AI…?

VRAINS_Life: That sounds so stupid tbh. What a letdown kind of bounty!!

Daddy Long Legs: What’s so special about this AI anyways? Did it go haywire or something?

Ghost Girl: Can’t talk much about it, but let’s just say that it has a mind of its own and that the bounty is near priceless to SOL.

VRAINS_Life: Does that mean that SOL will pay us as much as we want for it?

Daddy Long Legs: Nah, it’s probably within reason.

Ghost Girl: I’d say they’d pay a rather handsome fix for the thing. It seems to be a pricey bargaining chip in their eyes. Maybe five billion yen would suffice in return for that AI?

VRAINS_Life: Ooooo I definitely want to get my hands on it then *o*

VRAINS_Life: Imagine all that dough…gosh I could do so much with it!!

Blood Shepherd: Not if I get to it first.

Ghost Girl: Or me ;3c

Blood Shepherd: Yeah right.

Ghost Girl: Aww you have no faith in me >:’O

~~~

The city plaza of Den City is filled with people by the time Yusaku arrives at 6 pm. The sun has already began to sink beneath the tips of the skyscrapers, painting the sky with gold and orange hues that begin to fade into red. Basked in its dying light, the people of the city murmur, their voices melted into a subtle babble that fills much of Yusaku’s ears. The boy peers around as he meanders through the crowd, his briefcase on his shoulder, green eyes taking in the sight of mothers, children, teenagers, and elders who continue on their paths in life. His gaze softens at such a sight, emotions swimming in his eyes as he moves forward to approach a hot dog stand.

“Hey, Yusaku!”

The boy turns his gaze to a man leaning out of the hot dog wagon, waving generously as he hands off a hotdog to a woman with pink hair. The woman glances at Yusaku, her gaze holding Yusaku’s before she looks away and continues on her path. Yusaku watches her go and then, after a moment of silence, approaches the beige hotdog stand that awaits his presence.

“How was school?” The man asks.

“I talked to someone,” the boy responds, navigating around the wagon to a side-door. He steps inside and takes a seat.

“Oh? That’s new,” the man says, brushing his hands on the white apron hanging from his neck. “Made a new friend at long last?”

There’s an exasperated sigh. “You know I wouldn’t do that, Shoichi,” Yusaku sets his briefcase down. “I have more important things to think about.”

“Ah,” the man’s teasing tone fades off. “That’s right. You do.”

He looks at his companion. “Any news on Hanoi’s activity?”

“The hacker forums haven’t said anything about them, but…”

“But?”

“There’s been news on SOL changing their behavior. Apparently, there’s a security check going on in Link VRAINS tonight. The whole system will be weakened for an hour’s time.”

“Are they tracking down another game-breaking glitch?”

“No, it’s something different this time. Not a bug or a system failure or anything like that.”

Yusaku raises an eyebrow. “What else could it be?”

The words Shoichi speaks send a shiver down Yusaku’s spine. “An AI.”

Yusaku blinks and the world warps before him.

There’s wind in his face, the sound of several million alarms chasing behind him, and then the noise fades away to disappear into the abyss…

Yusaku blinks again, holding his head. A wave of nausea overtakes him and he clutches at his stomach, leaning over himself as Shoichi sweeps to his side.

“Hey, hey,” the purple-haired man says, softly, a hand on his shoulder. “Are you alright, Yusaku?”

There’s a brief moment of panic overtaking his heart and then it settles away, dissipating like steam. The boy peers up and gives his partner a nod.

“I am now,” he manages.

“Another one of your visions?”

“Yes.”

Shoichi’s panicked gaze crumples into one of worry. “What happened?”

“I didn’t see much this time. I only heard the sound of alarms.”

“It sounds like SOL must be beginning their security scan then. I’ll start up the cameras.”

“That’d be great, thank you,” Yusaku closes the window to the hotdog wagon, apologizing curtly to a woman as he turns to Shoichi. “But, are you sure? Of all things, an AI?”

“That’s what the rumors say,” Shoichi shrugs. “And it’s from one a trustworthy source, too.”

“What source is that?”

“Ever heard of Ghost Girl?”

“No.”

“Figures. She’s not as well known outside the dark net.” Shoichi laughs. “Well, anyways, according to her SOL has begun to set its sights on the thing for a pretty bounty.”

Yusaku huffs in disbelief. “And so what’s special about this AI to the point that a massive company such as SOL is desperate enough to set up a bounty to find it?”

“There wasn’t much discussed about it, only that SOL has been looking for this specific AI for a long time now. That, and it’s apparently been running rogue for a bit, unable to be put under any one person’s control.”

Yusaku frowns. “You mean to tell me that this AI has a mind of its own?”

“So it seems,” Shoichi gives a shrug. “Honestly, I’m not quite so sure myself. All I know is that Ghost Girl alluded its value to SOL as being near priceless and that it seems that the bounty hunters of the dark web are taking an interest in it.”

“…Alright. Sounds interesting.”

Shoichi takes a seat at a counter with three glass cabinets. Yusaku follows his example, sitting in a padded chair as Shoichi presses a button. The glass windows light up and then fade away into nine individual screens, each showing specially named files and several screens depicting an internet history in regards to news articles on “Hanoi”. The man then pulls up a screen that he shares between them showing a live channel known properly as Eagle News.

“It seems they’re starting,” Shoichi says.

Yusaku nods. On the screen, he watches as a storm of blue pulsates over a large city of virtual skyscrapers, sweeping past like tidal waves of energy. The city darkens, storm clouds gathering overhead before the camera flickers and an alarm sounds off in the background.

“All residents of Link VRAINS,” an intercom states, “except those of the news media, Charisma Cup participants, and invited guests should evacuate Link VRAINS in an attempt to avoid potential account corruption. Link VRAINS is experiencing game-breaking bugs and SOL Technologies needs to correct them immediately. Again, if you are in Link VRAINS right now and not under the protected classes, please log out before your account is affected.”

The camera flicks down to a crowd of people hastily murmuring among themselves before disappearing in flashes of blue. Yusaku, in a moment of clear thought, opens up the official Link VRAINS forums to take a glance.

Already, a series of conversations has begun. Yusaku browses through a few, scrolling from message to message until one fact becomes clear: SOL Technologies has reacted without the consent of its player base.

“It seems SOL Technologies is desperate,” Shoichi speaks, voicing the boy’s thoughts within an instant. “Whatever they’re searching for, they want it now.”

“The AI?”

“That would be my best guess. Can you track it right now?”

Yusaku scowls. “You know my sixth sense doesn’t work like that.”

“I know, I know. Still,” Shoichi frowns at the screen, “at this point the best bet we have is to hack into SOL Technologies to see if we can find the location of the AI at the same time they do. You up for that?”

“Might as well. I know you can’t be caught.”

Shoichi grins, pulling out a keyboard to swipe his fingers across. “I’ll take that as praise.”

“Take it however you want,” Yusaku snorts. “Meanwhile, I can-ugh!”

A flash of white-hot pain bursts through his mind and Yusaku keels over, fingers clutching at his head. He hears Shoichi shouting, he feels the man’s hands on his shoulder, but despite Yusaku’s best efforts to resist, his vision fades into a blurry image of the hot dog truck and then becomes replaced entirely.

Run.

Run.

Run.

He must run. He can never stop running. He’s sick of running. He’s sick of fleeing, of being made a hunted animal. He’s sick of it all, but there’s nothing he can do.

He’s lost it all. He’s lost it all. How can he keep running like this? How can he bare to keep moving, to keep going?

He’s desperate.

The hunters are upon him.

He’s desperate.

Everyone’s coming for him.

He’s desperate.

There’s only one thing left to do.

He’s desperate.

He has to do the one thing he thought he never must.

He’s desperate.

“Yusaku!”

Shoichi’s voice brings Yusaku back into the present. The boy startles, green eyes sweeping up to meet silver. Shoichi’s gaze softens and the man inquires: “Are you alright?”

“Yeah,” he nods. “I just had another vision.”

“What of?”

“I didn’t see anything this time. I just felt scared and alone,” Yusaku thinks of a young kid with remarking similarity to himself and gives a bitter smile. “Sounds a bit similar to someone I once knew.”

“That it does,” Shoichi says, quietly.

“That said, these visions are beginning to concern me. This is the third one I’ve had today,” Yusaku holds up a hand as Shoichi opens up his mouth and then continues. “Earlier, at school, I saw the world of Link VRAINS while standing on a pipeline. I felt the same feeling of fear as I did in my last two visions.”

“What do you think they mean?”

“Something is calling for my help.” Yusaku says.

“Your help?”

“It’s the best explanation I have right now,” Yusaku muses, coming to a conclusion. “I think I can track down the source of all this chaos,” he states firmly, pulling his keyboard close. “Shoichi, can you assist me in capturing it?”

“You know where this thing is?”

“Well, my sixth sense gave me a hunch.”

“That’s…not helpful.”

Yusaku merely offers the man a smile. “I know. But it’s the only thing we have.”

Shoichi pulls his keyboard forward, offering back a nod. “Right. Let’s do this.”

Yusaku only smiles.

~~~

The TV screen rolls.

A girl with blue hair and in an outfit reminiscent of a child in love with angels waves to the screen. A device sparkles on her left wrist, shining brilliantly in the sunlight of a summer afternoon. She stands atop the roofs of white buildings fitted with orange tiles, standing fearlessly on the shingles as she faces her opponent.

“This is it! This is the moment everyone’s been waiting for! The exhibition match of SOL’s brand new Charisma Cup!”

A wave of cheers sounds up from a wave of people standing on the buildings all around the girl, blue and white merch in her image making a frequent appearance. Outside the TV screen, an even bigger crowd gathers around every TV screen, making a show of protest with screams that would deafen an entire nation.

“Today, Blue Angel will make her mark by showing us yet again just how good her Tricksters are! Today, her unlucky opponent will be Go Onizuka, a man making his debut after winning the right to battle her in the exhibition match lottery! His deck focuses on Gouki monsters - a deck that has no right to challenge our queen!”

The blue-haired girl, Blue Angel, blows a kiss to a camera that strides by her, indulging her audience with a wink and a flirtatious laugh.

“Thank you all for supporting me!” She calls, her high-pitched voice ringing throughout the area.

Her opponent, a dark-skinned man seemingly shaped from muscles, eyes her with an evident sense of distaste. He readies the item on his left wrist, ignoring the crowds of people who boo at his one simple action before he says: “We should start the duel now.”

Blue Angel offers him a pout before nodding her head. “Alright! I like your attitude.” She puts her left arm out in front of her. “Ready, and…”

The man - Go Onizuka - offers back a nod.

“Duel!”

~~~

Yusaku can feel it. Can feel the network running through his veins, the pulse of energy racing through him like a spark. There was a wiggling urge inside of him to reach his hands into it, however impossible that was, and he found the world blurring between reality and fantasy, pixels spreading across his keyboard and the walls of the hot-dog wagon. His own hands, which worked furiously on his keyboard, began to blacken, lost to his vision as the throbbing in his chest nudged him onwards. He was close, so close , to reaching the thing he longed for, to come closest to the sense of “home” he’s felt in a long time and-

The world around him shatters into glass fragments and a dragon rears over him, black in color with glowing green spheres embedded into its body. On top of it stands a hooded individual wrapped in a white robe and wearing a metal mask streaked with yellow and embedded with two red crystal “eyes”. The individual points to him, words muddled, before the dragon opens its mouth to unleash a stream of fire upon him that nearly burns him to a crisp. He hears the screams of people all around him, of players stuck in the system and yet struck by the blaze raining down upon them.

Yusaku recoils away from the threat of danger and then he blinks and pulls himself back into the present, watching as the computer screens depict the very same man he’d seen seconds earlier riding atop a dragon identical to the one in his vision.

“A Knight of Hanoi!” Shoichi’s distraught cry makes Yusaku fit together the pieces all at once. He stiffens, shaking his head and turning to his partner.

“What’s the situation?” He asks.

The man is quick to answer. “It seems a Knight of Hanoi’s broken through SOL’s security system at the site of the Charisma Cup. He’s currently on a rampage right now deleting people’s accounts with his dragon. That, and he seems to be searching for something.”

“The AI?” Yusaku pauses, reflecting for a moment’s glance on the scene he’d witnessed previously. “Then I think I might know where it is.”

Shoichi nods, turning to him with the questions in his eyes doused by a kind of trusting knowing. “Where?”

“Here,” Yusaku points at a spot on a separate screen, locating the end of a long alleyway with no place to escape from. “It’s trapped here.”

“Think we can grab it before Hanoi can?”

Yusaku offers up a determined smile. “I think we can. If we work together, we can do this.”

“Right.”

The sound of keyboard clicking fills the air and it doesn’t take long for the both of them to code a program that will allow them to guide the AI in question to safety. The only issue is manipulating the thing into doing so. Yusaku can sense its presence in the network, can sense the way an animate being hovers in the corner of the alleyway and gives off signals of distress that reveal its location to him. And, as he watches the Knight of Hanoi close in on the location, he realizes he has no time to test the strength of the program he and Shoichi have created. If he doesn’t act now, he’ll easily lose his bargaining chip. And, he has no patience for that.

“Kusanagi, I’m activating the program.”

His partner offers him a short line of protest but, taking note of the situation at hand and coming to the same conclusion, gives him his permission.

Yusaku activates the program and watches as a silver pipeline appears in Link VRAINS to intercept the hooded man’s path. The Knight of Hanoi reels back, shouting something unintelligible in confusion before something small, round and black slips through the pipeline.

The blue-haired boy wastes no time. He flies from his seat to a corner of the hot-dog wagon, picking his way through a shelf-full of items to retrieve a relic from a time nearly before him: A card-insertion Duel Disk. The device is small, and he has to tug with the wrist band to conform it properly to his wrist, but it easily slides on and allows him to transport it to a series of cords located under the hot dog wagon’s computer screens. A plugs a cord into a port, watching as the white words “ Installing… ” flash into place before a “ Installation Complete ” scrolls across the screen right as the electricity in the hotdog wagon flickers and dies.

“A power outage?” Shoichi asks, peering outside his windows to watch as the entire city floods into darkness.

Yusaku closes his eyes, sensing something ominous fall down upon him, a presence wiggling closer as they sit in the confusion of the night. “No. Something’s coming.”

The Duel Disk on his arm flares to life, becoming the only beacon of light inside the wagon. Shoichi immediately shuts the windows and runs to his side, watching with furrowed eyebrows as the blank purple interface of Yusaku’s Duel Disk twists and distorts.

The bright purple color first fades to black, a ring of white light on the duel disk’s perimeter providing the only indication of its presence. Then, purple lines form across the screen in an odd pattern, giving Yusaku the faint suggestion of something otherworldly. Lastly, the purple lines part to reveal an orange eye with a lavender and white pupil - the eye of a monster peering back at them.

“Oh!” the thing says, speaking in a voice so high-pitched that it distorts the eerie presence of its image. “Hello there! Good afternoon to you both!”

Shoichi frowns. “Is this…?”

“...the AI?” Yusaku finishes, an eyebrow raised.

“Why yes I am!” the thing chirps. “I mean, well, I’m an AI anyways! I’m not sure I’m the AI because I sure as heck don’t recognize you strange people. What do you want with me anyways? How’d you even find me? Also: why am I trapped in here? ”

“It’s because of a special program we made,” Yusaku says. “It means you’re now our hostage.”

“Oh, I see, that makes sen-...Hey! You can’t just go around making people hostages like this! That’s illegal!”

“There are no laws in Den City against making an AI your hostage,” Shoichi points out.

“Yeah, but you can’t just take a young and cool AI like me and imprison them for life! I mean, come on, I’ve got a long life ahead of me and I can’t be living it as a prisoner!”

“It talks a lot,” Yusaku notes.

“Too much,” Shoichi agrees. “What should we do with it?”

Yusaku watches as the power flickers back on and the computer screens show the hooded man wreaking havoc on the citizens of another world.

“We should put him to the test,” Yusaku says, holding up the duel disk with a nod at the creature inside. “Let’s see if we can reach negotiations with Hanoi.”

“That’s a dangerous idea,” Shoichi’s gaze softens as he looks over the boy. “Do you think it will work?”

“It’s worth a shot.”

The man offers a nod.

“Then good luck.”

Yusaku nods back, his silence all that’s needed to establish that gratitude that stems from those words. The boy brushes past Shoichi, moving like a phantom down the hotdog wagon until he reaches a door previously ignored. He puts his hand on the handle, pushes down, and then maneuvers into it with his Duel Disk raised.

Steadying his voice he yells: “Into the VRAINS!”

~~~

The world darkens and then lights up with streamers of blue that push alongside him like a wave of water, guiding white luminance all across his body. Before him, in this space, his body is transformed. His school’s uniform - a standard black and white outfit with a blue tie - dissipates into a body suit of black and green with golden lines flaring across his person. A silver belt clasps to his waist while a collar touching the highest part of the back of his neck ascends. His hands become covered in the fabric of the wetsuit while his hair transforms from its blue and pink state to one of amber, pink and gold.

Pixels flood Yusaku’s vision as he makes the transformation into his VR avatar and it is only when they filter out from his view does he realize he’s been pushed out the VR portal and into the world of Link VRAINS.

He free-falls from roughly 100 feet up in the air, wind pressing against his face like it would in the real world before his feet land elegantly on brick tiles.

Thanks to the world’s stabilizing log-in functions, he is able to maintain all safety of his body even with the severity of his fall.

When he looks up, the world has changed from a landscape of skyscrapers to that of white buildings with orange-shingled roofs. Glaring sunlight forces him a moment to readjust, but it doesn’t take long to see the havoc caused by the Knight of Hanoi. Fire licks the buildings behind him, smoke pouring all around the city to blot together in the process of darkening the sky. Houses once beautiful to the eye had crumpled down into ruins, destruction sowing ugliness in the form of houses burnt beyond repair and buildings nearly unrecognizable as anything but rubble.

Yusaku takes in a sharp breath, steadying the pounding in his heart as he takes in the sight before him with a sharp sense of duty biting into him.

“Not a pretty view,” a voice speaks beside him, nearly serious in its childish voice. “Wowzers, sure seems like Hanoi did a number there.”

Yusaku pulls up his Duel Disk and watches as the eye embedded within it turns to stare at him.

“Hey buddy!” It chimes. “How’s it going?”

“Be quiet,” he snaps in response.

“Ooo, harsh.” It rolls its eye. “But I think you have bigger problems than me being quiet.”

A scream sounds up from just up ahead and Yusaku watches as a girl with blue hair and wings floating alongside her back scrambles around a corner. She hops over a fallen pillar, her gait hurried as she flees. Fire follows in her footsteps, burning a black trail across the concrete road which leads her ahead. Yusaku doesn’t have to look far to see what she’s running from. A black dragon looms into sight, glowing green spheres rivaling that of the sun’s plastered into its body. The massive creature moves smoothly through the air, gliding without wings as its master beckons it forward.

The boy acts without thinking, running closer to the scene of action while avoiding the eyes of the knight. He weaves his way through the buildings, running his hands along the sides of virtual structures to keep a grip on his senses. He can keep track of the knight and his location easily enough by the sight of the dragon. The girl, however, he has a hard time following. She’s fast on her feet - much faster than he would have anticipated given the way he has to struggle to keep up with her. She’s little more than a blur, but her fast pace fails to negate the dragon’s gain on her.

“There!”

The AI inside his Duel Disk speaks without warning, its gaze pushed in the direction of a long corridor that seemed to stretch down into a road adjacent to the one he was working towards.

“If you want to help her,” it says, “go through that hallway!”

He stares at it for a second’s glance, before nodding his head and following its directions. He’s a bit unnerved it can read him and his wants so easily, and he’s nearly amazed at how sophisticated the mind reading technology must be.

Yusaku peels through the mentioned corridor, feet hitting against the hard bricks as until he reaches the end of the hallway and slides against the wall, staring out from the shadows as the girl heads his way.

He wants to make this nice and simple. He wants to accomplish two things: To put the girl out of danger, and to get the Hanoi Knight alone with him. So, he makes a plan - albeit a sloppy one. He’ll pull the girl into the alleyway and forcibly log her out, giving her the ten seconds time she needs to disappear before approaching the knight. Doing so will allow her safety without the revelation of his identity.

He’s not going to risk letting his identity being known. Not when the girl could easily confirm the rumors he’s worked so hard to destroy.

However, as he watches the girl approach and the dragon’s mouth opens with fire burning inside it, he finds he has no choice in the matter. It’s inevitable, Yusaku thinks with a sigh, leaping forward from his hiding place to grab the girl by her waist and yank her forward just before she’s hit by a blast of fire.

“What-?” The girl’s sharp intake of breath forces him to meet her gaze. Purple eyes bewitched with confusion and fear contort into senseless apprehension and caution. “Who are you?

A shadow looms over Yusaku and he peers upwards, ignoring the girl’s question. The Knight of Hanoi glares down at him from atop their beast, offering Yusaku a leer as he hovers over the boy. Fire crackles from the dragon’s mouth, sparking with the omen of impending disaster.

“The Ignis!” The Knight snarls, gaze seemingly latching onto Yusaku’s duel disk from behind his mask before flicking up to him. “You! Who are you?”

He takes a breath in and steels himself as the threat of burning to a crisp escalates.

“My name is Playmaker,” he states, and feels a hundred eyes bearing down upon him as the cameras of the news channels manifest to take note of him. Ignoring the knowing attention he now has on him, he bares his Duel Disk for the Knight to see. “And I have the AI you’ve been searching for.”

A moment of silence stretched on long and ominous. The whole world holds its breath, only for it to be broken by the voice of disbelief that sounds from beside “Playmaker”.

“You are…?” The voice of the girl makes him wince. “But that was just a…”

The Knight of Hanoi offers up a cackle that disintegrates the mood of awe embraced by the silence of the world. Playmaker holds firm as the Knight looks down upon him with curled lips.

“Playmaker? You , the legendary Playmaker that I’ve heard so much about? Pathetic. I’ll crush your sorry ass for trying to be someone you’re not. I’m not a fool - using the name of Playmaker won’t scare me.”

He grits his teeth. “If you destroy me, you won’t get this…‘Ignis’ you all so crave. It’s trapped hostage in my duel disk and the only way out is either for me to lose in a duel or for me to hand it over. Therefore, I want to negotiate: bring me to your leader and I’ll provide him the Ignis if I’m satisfied with what I’ve learnt. You can talk to your superiors, can’t you?”

“...Or I could simply beat you to a pulp,” the Knight scoffs. “My superior isn’t concerned with the likes of children trying to think they’re heroes. Still, that said, I can’t leave empty-handed. That Ignis can only be won if you lose in a duel, correct?”

“Correct.”

“Then let’s duel for it,” the man holds his left arm up and Playmaker watches as a green ring flares to life around his wrist. “You can duel, can’t you?”

“Oi, oi, oi! I never agreed to any of this!” A voice pipes up from Playmaker’s wrist. “I’m an AI with a wife and four kids! I don’t deserve to be lowered down to nothing more than some guy’s personal bargaining chip!”

“Shut it,” Playmaker snaps.

“Ooo, ouch! My feelings! I thought we were supposed to be buddies here! You know, the kind of buddy who lets his friends go free from-!”

“I can duel,” Playmaker states firmly, meeting the man’s gaze with a frown.

The Knight sneers. “Then let’s go.”

A storm howls. Gray clouds filter across the sky, streaked with lightning.

From the duel disk on his wrist, Playmaker hears a voice:

“Come, Data Storm!”

Chapter Text

Chapter 1, Part 2: Data Storm

_____________________________

Ghost Girl: Woah are you guys watching the Fr&Pi channel right now????

VRAINS_Life: No? Why? Is something cool going down?

Daddy Long Legs: nah that channel always has boring stuff on it :/

Ghost Girl: But!! Playmaker’s on it!! Seriously check it out!!

Scarlet_Pimpernel: O_O

Blue Moon: U serious????

Daddy_Long_Legs: it’s probably just a stunt performer or some bullshit

I_AM_A_DEITY: haha nice one Ghostie. Can’t fool me

Ghost Girl: I’m serious though!! >:O= He’s on-screen rn!!

I_AM_A_DEITY: omg

I_AM_A_DEITY: omgg

I_AM_A_DEITY: omg omg omg ,,, Ghostie wasn’t lying!! Look at the channel!! A guy calling himself Playmaker is battling a Knight of Hanoi!!

Ghost Girl: I don’t appreciate being called “Ghostie” u fuckers

VRAINS_Life: Wait wait wait are we talking about THE Hanoi?

Ghost Girl: yep THE Hanoi

Daddy_Long_Legs: I hate to burst people’s bubbles but he’s obviously a fake

Blue Moon: Is he tho??? No one I know would be stupid enough to fight Hanoi unless they knew they were gonna win.

VRAINS_Life: Annnd as we all know the chance of that shit happening is so fucking low if you aren’t a gooder than good hacker

Ghost Girl: *nods* Hanoi’s got cheats rigged all over their dueling system

Scarlet_Pimpernel: I’m watching rn and honestly this kids got guts so I’d say he’s probs the real deal :O=

VRAINS_Life: He’s a kid??? o.O

Scarlet_Pimpernel: idk actually. Kind of looks like one to me tbh. He’s got a rly stupid outfit and rly crazy hair + shit

Ghost Girl: nah I’d say he’s older. About my age maybe? But I’m so young too so ;;

VRAINS_Life: says the old lady

Ghost Girl: >:’O

Blue Moon: wait hang on let me set up a livestream for y’all so we can watch

Scarlet_Pimpernel: *sparkly eyes* it’s been so long since we’ve done a livestream omg

Blue Moon: ikr?

VRAINS_Life: Just make sure to get it on tape or something. Gotta get it out of SOL's hands before they censor it or something

Ghost Girl: !! Good idea!! Please do!! (and then send it to me afterwards lol :3<)

Blue Moon: I'll make sure to do just that then ;)

 ~~~~

“Come, Data Storm!”

The world around Playmaker submerges itself into darkness.

Gray clouds darken the sky in an instant, chasing away the blue and white sky that had previously been dominated by plumes of smoke. Electricity cackles in the air and the blue-haired girl whom Playmaker has neglected to pay attention to, steps backwards into the darkness of a nearby alleyway, retreating as the wind blows heedless in her direction. Both Playmaker and the Knight pay little heed to the girl’s retreat, instead beholding the sky with a sense of fear.

“What’s happening?” Playmaker asks his duel disk, watching as the storm bearing down upon them purges all of Link VRAINS into a maelstrom of thunder and gusts. “What did you do?”

“I’ll explain later,” the voice of the AI pipes up. “For now, Playmaker, if you want to win against that man, you’re going to need to trust me.”

“Why?”

“Because, with the current deck you have right now, you cannot beat that knight in a Master Duel. I’ve already run the calculations - a Speed Duel will give you a much better chance to beat him.”

“How do you know I won’t win?”

“Because of that dragon he’s riding. Cracking Dragon, a level 8 monster. It has skills and power that your own deck can’t match right now. If you don’t believe me, take a look at your Duel Disk: it’ll show you all you need to know.”

Playmaker holds up his left arm, scanning a hologram projected from his duel disk and reading over the description of the card “Cracking Dragon”. Scoffing, he looks at the eye embedded in his device.

“What’s your plan?”

It brightens, nearly beaming. “Do you know how to Speed Duel?”

“No.”

“Well then, I’ll teach you!” The thing closes its eye, virtual eyelids squeezing together. “Now, when I say jump, jump.”

“Hm.”

Wind wraps around Playmaker, sliding across his body like water. The Knight of Hanoi stands across from him, watching the boy with his red glittering eyes. An unsettling grin pastes itself on the man’s face, offering Playmaker a sense of unease as he rests atop his black dragon. Electricity flashes yet again, striking a far-off building before particles of purple drip to the ground like raindrops. Playmaker watches as those particles hover just above the skin of his avatar, pooling together over an invisible forcefield before sliding down and disappearing. He doesn’t feel anything from these drips. No cold, not wetness, no pain or misery. Instead, it is merely a slight sensation of temporary breath upon his skin, a touch of air that passes quickly in the coming of the wind.

Then, in a display almost breathtaking, those purple particles ascend from the ground, defying gravity and moving upwards to cluster together into a giant purple stream of light. Trails of white and blue thread through this sudden river of data, creating an illusion of multi-colored water flowing through the air of Link VRAINS. Playmaker watches in awe as the rivers of particles dip down to rest at the side of his neck, cracking with a kind of otherworldly energy that has him simultaneously wanting to indulge in it while also wanting to shy away from its reckless power.

“Jump!”

Playmaker’s attention is stolen away by the voice that calls to him. He reacts almost instinctively, launching himself upwards with a sense of confusion and near embarrassment as to having agreed to do something sounding so reckless. However, as he lands, he realizes what the AI meant as his feet land, not on the ground that he had been standing on but, rather, that of a board manifesting itself in midair. He watches as the thing pilots itself into the depths of the storm and, balancing upon it amidst, the boy finds himself sinking into a position which instills a sense of nostalgia in him.

“Playmaker, watch out!”

The boy looks up and watches as a house stands before him, looming over him as his board runs straight towards it. Fighting down a sense of panic, he moves his foot and swerves away from the building and around it, following the purple stream of particles that leads him around the obstacle.

“Phew, that was close,” the AI says. “If you get hurt here, you’ll get hurt in real life. Be more careful okay? I can’t let my captor get hurt before I can get him to allow me to escape this wretched prison.”

“I’m aware.”

“Good, good. I wouldn’t want you to get hurt until I get out of here. No offense to you but since you’ve taken me hostage and won’t let me go, I consider your life very valuable right now. Take that as a compliment. Us AI’s are pretty smart and we know we’re far more superior to you humans so me thinking your life is important to me is a really big deal.”

“Whoever programmed you must have really hated silence,” the boy says in response, his flat voice suggesting his awareness of such knowledge.

“Oh? What makes you think that?”

“Because you never know when to shut up.”

“Oh...oh! I’m wounded, so wounded! Playmaker, you’re so very rude! What would your parents say if they knew their child was acting so poorly towards someone so innocent?”

A flat response is the only thing that Playmaker offers: “I don’t have any parents.”

“Ah...I see…”

Around them, the howl of the wind grows stronger.

~~~~

In a plaza in the middle of Den City, Shoichi Kusanagi watches from the interior of his hotdog stand as a crowd of people gather in front of TV screens massive in size. The scene playing before them is of Yusaku - Playmaker - and his adventures in both rescuing a girl (Blue Angel, of all people! ) and “claiming” the title of Playmaker in order to take on a Knight of Hanoi. Shoichi nearly has to clasp his mouth shut to muffle the cry of surprise when he sees Yusaku utter the name of his secret identity, flabbergasted that Yusaku would so recklessly put himself out there.

The inside of Link VRAINS swirls with ominous energy, dark clouds chasing away skies of blue and smoke. Shoichi watches in disbelief as purple streams of energy press through the skyscrapers of Link VRAINS, swirling with forebode and mystery as he recognizes their appearance with a gasp of astonishment.

“The Data Storms?” He asks with disbelief. “They’ve returned?”

His question is met with a silent reply as streams of purple whip through the city, carrying particles of data in their wake. Shoichi beholds the sight with awe, so muddled with shock that he fails to notice the kid who has snuck up along the side of his stand.

“Data Storms?” a plump teenager with green hair asks, furrowing his eyebrows as he stares at the screen. “What are those?”

But Shoichi can only offer up an explanation that is unsatisfactory at best:

“They disappeared from Link VRAINS five years ago,” he says, nearly surprised to know that such things aren’t common knowledge. “No one knows why they vanished. But now…”

“Now they’re back?” The boy asks, perplexion causing him to regard the screen with eyebrows so furrowed that wrinkles begin to age his skin. “Strange, I’ve never heard of anything like that before. And I’m the number one fan of Link VRAINS.”

Shoichi pays little attention to such musings. Instead, he finds fascination in what he is watching, eyes scouring every inch of the screen for every kind of detail he can find.

After all this time… Shoichi thinks with a frown sewn onto his face. But those Data Storms are dangerous. They can kill in an instant. Yusaku, please, be careful.

And though he’s not a man of faith - Shoichi clasps his hands together and offers up a prayer for the safety of a boy he knew so well.

~~~~

“The first rule of Speed Dueling is simple,” the AI states with confidence full in its voice. “For one, the Main Monster Zone and the Magic/Trap Zone is reduced to three zones.”

“Three zones…?” Yusaku says, teetering back and forth on his board. It’s hard to remain on top of his board without faltering but, for some reason or another, he knows exactly how to surf on the purple streams underneath him, moving left and right just the correct amount to keep him afloat.

This...feels familiar, he thinks with slightly wide eyes, a sense of nostalgia so overpowering making his throat close up. And I recognize that rule too. Have I...Speed Dueled before?

“Yep, three zones,” the AI seems to give a nod, “next rule is that your first hand starts with only four cards.”

“I see,” he looks at his hand, four cards already drawn.

“There is also no Main Phase 2,” it says.

Two more familiar rules…

“Is that all?” Playmaker asks.

“Of course not. It’s just the basics. The rest you’ll have to see for yourself.”

The boy falls into silence, riding the storm forward. His opponent had disappeared as soon as he’d jumped onto his board, but Playmaker was keenly aware of the fact that the Knight would not disappear without finishing the fight he’d started. And, as he heard the splash of something otherworldly behind him, he figured his hunch correct. A Knight of Hanoi stood on a hoverboard, easing forward.

“So he did know how to Speed Duel,” the AI muses. “It’s been five years, and yet Hanoi still has people who remember…”

“Hm?”

“Ah. Nothing you need to worry about, Playmaker. Not yet, anyways. Just know that your opponent has a headstart, but you have me.”

“Sounds encouraging,” he states dryly.

“Oi.” The AI huffs. “I’m trying to help you here!”

“I know. That’s what AI’s are for.”

“I’m not your servant though.”

“No, you’re my hostage. And, while you’re my hostage, you’ll try and benefit me whether you want to or not. It’s in your programming to help your owner.”

The AI glares at him but Playmaker cares little for its burning gaze. He stands by his words. The thing trapped in his duel disk is little more than a tool. Regardless of how rogue its programming is, its purpose is to help him. Of that much, he is certain.

“Playmaker!” The Knight of Hanoi rides alongside him. “This duel begins now.”

He nods and the Knight sweeps out his hand, summoning four cards in front of him that linger with pictures of his hand cards. Playmaker can’t see what they look like thanks to an anti-cheating mechanism, but he can already sense that something strong lurks among the Knight’s deck.

“I summon two Hack Worms!” He says, choosing two cards and sliding them up.

At the knight’s side, two snake-like creatures with gray scales came into existence, formed from blue particles that revealed their forms. Glowing green stripes ran along their sides, while two structures in the form of a spear embedded with a green sphere poked out from their backs. Gold formations created the appearance of two mouths, two heads, and three pairs of leg-like structures that ran underneath both their chins.

“It’s coming,” the AI murmurs. “This isn’t good.”

“That dragon?” Playmaker thinks of the beast that the Hanoi Knight had been riding.

“Yes. If he summons that...you’re going to be in a dangerous place, Playmaker.”

He says nothing. Instead, he watches as the Knight does exactly as what was foretold and calls the name of a creature that has Playmaker shuddering.

“Come, Cracking Dragon!”

The Hack Worms bare their teeth and then disappear into a large plume of particles that sparkle with blue light. Playmaker watches as they reform into a massive black creature made of shining metal plates, dots of gold, and glowing green spheres, mouth and eyes which made up the rest of its body. The dragon hovered over them, its shadow blotting out the sky overhead as its mouth opened to reveal the sets of teeth inside. A chilly sense of unease hits Playmaker. At once, it felt as if he had become the prey of something greater than himself: the prey of a thing without thought or power.

“It’s here,” Playmaker says, his voice quieting.

“Behold, the power of the dragon my leader, the leader of Hanoi, entrusted to me!” The Knight sneers, curling his lips as he swoops by Playmaker.

“Your leader?” Playmaker’s gaze snaps to the man. “Who?”

“No one you will ever know.” The man waves a hand and the remaining cards that hover in front of him dissipate. “I end my turn. Now, how will you react, all mighty Playmaker?”

“I draw,” he returns, grabbing a card from his deck and placing it into his hand of four cards. “I set two cards.”

“Hanoi has evolved.” The AI muses before peering at his hand. “Your deck won’t be able to catch up to him.”

“What makes you so sure?”

“You have no monsters in your deck to counter a 3000 attack dragon.”

He says nothing; his silence an admission of the fact he’s already aware.

Playmaker picks up one of the cards from his hand and slaps it down on his duel disk. “From my hand, I summon Cyverse Wizard!”

A white hooded humanoid figure with green hair manifests, holding a long silver rod which it uses to lash at the air. The creature takes to Playmaker’s side, a mask hiding its lower face. Its eyes latch onto him without thought, showing nothing beyond a gaze of steely blue. Cyverse Wizard is watching him, as he always does, waiting. The monsters in Playmaker’s deck are always waiting.

“To think you use the Cyverse archetype,” the Knight of Hanoi slips forward, gaze holding firm with his. “This is...unexpected. But, no matter. 1800 attack is unmatchable to my Cracking Dragon’s. When you summon or special summon a monster, you face a penalty of having your monster decreased by 200 times its level! That difference also decreases your life points by that amount.”

Playmaker winces as a portion of pain courses through him, stabbing at his mind. Beside him, Cyverse Wizard crumples, cringing as if hit with a similar sensation of injury. When the effect diminishes, his monster stands with 1000 lifepoints - 800 less than it had before.

I need to defeat that dragon, he think with distaste, turning to his monster and giving it a nod.

“Once per turn, I can turn a monster into the defense position. I choose to do that now with Cracking Dragon! Cyverse Algorithm!”

Cyverse Wizard tosses its rod forward and light flashes from its tip, binding around the Cracking Dragon to turn it into a submissive position. The creature snarls, glaring at him before Playmaker moves his hand forward and orders his monster to attack. Cyverse Wizard reacts instantly, knowing what to do without Playmaker having to say it. The creature darts forward and blasts Cracking Dragon with a ray of light. A cloud of smoke is produced, and both monsters become obscured as Playmaker watches, unnerved by the way the Knight watches the cloud with quiet calm.

And, when the plume of smoke passes, Cracking Dragon emerges unharmed, baring its teeth at the wizard. Playmaker’s monster jumps back to his side, confusion wide in its eyes.

“Cracking Dragon can’t be destroyed by monsters lower than its own,” the Knight of Hanoi explains with a smug smile. “Your Cyverse Wizard is level 4. Mine, level 8. And, unless you have a level 8 monster or above, I wish you luck in conquering my Cracking Dragon, oh mighty Playmaker.”

“He has a point, Playmaker. You won’t be able to do anything with your current deck.”

“Tch. Then what do you suppose I do?”

“Wait.”

“...I end my turn.”

~~~~

Revolver watches as “Playmaker” slides across the Data Storm, winding his way through the city with an air of unease. He doesn’t know whether to believe that the man challenging one of his own followers is actually Playmaker, but he does wonder. It can’t be coincidental happenstance that a man claiming the title of the man would also possess the Ignis. Such a feat wouldn’t be capable by any ordinary man, much less a con-man claiming to be the same as the one who had harassed his followers.

Still, Revolver can’t help but want to think that the man with the black and green wetsuit is real. In some form or fashion (and without help from the Ignis, no less), he’d disabled the cheating program set into place the moment the duel begun. And, those programs were of the highest caliber: Revolver himself had coded such things and had yet to see anyone but a handful of notorious hackers manage such a feat. Such curiosities had Revolver wondering: did, perhaps, Playmaker have outside help? No program could achieve such greatness against Revolver’s own unless an outsider had interfered. That left many possibilities but none of which amused Revolver. He couldn’t imagine gaining another enemy.

Regardless, as the boy watches, he can’t help but be surprised at the countless bags of tricks that Playmaker shows.

“So he uses Cyverses,” he muses from the darkness of his room, flicking a monitor around to see all the viewpoints of the situation at hand. “How odd, I thought we’d been rid of them all. It seems I’ll need to reconsider reprimanding my subjects for their failure in relaying this information.”

In one screen, he takes note of the countless shadows that trail Playmaker from far-away, lurking scavengers ready to devour the boy when he emerges from his duel. The bounty hunters in other words. No doubt enticed by SOL to act for a prize . Revolver frowns, flicking another screen to watch as a blue-haired girl tails after Playmaker, keeping her distance. It seems Blue Angel has taken an interest in Playmaker, though for what reason Revolver can’t be sure of.

“Master Revolver.”

The boy tilts his head to the left, watching as a spectral boy appears before him.

“Spectre,” he greets. “Do you have any news for me?”

“Your father sent me here,” the boy says, not at all answering the question.

“Are you here to give me a message from father then?”

“No, merely running errands. I’ve been doing some research into the dark net. Seems there’s a bit of an army looking to make some easy dough right now.”

Revolver flicks a screen in the boy’s direction and Spectre takes note of the spectacle upon it, merely smiling.

“Ah, yes, there they are,” the boy says. “Do you want me to take care of them, Master Revolver?”

“Didn’t you say you had errands to run?”

“Yes, but getting rid of the bounty hunters would be a much greater pleasure to me. Just give the word and I’ll sweep the rug from under their feet.”

Revolver offers up a chuckle. “I appreciate your bloodthirst. However, I don’t expect the bounty hunters to be much of a threat. Few within their ranks have the capacity to challenge us and even fewer would dare to do so without running with their tails in-between their legs. If they dare to claim the Ignis for themselves, I’ll give you permission to do with them as you will.”

“Fair enough.” Spectre swipes another monitor sideways and zooms in to watch as three drones hover in the skies, chasing after Playmaker and the Knight of Hanoi. “Ah. Seems SOL has made it their mission to keep an eye on this as well. At this point, it seems this Playmaker’s got the entirety of Den City wrapped around his finger.”

“The whole world is watching, Spectre. Everyone is watching. This is a moment that will almost certainly go down in history.”

The pale boy turns to his master. “And you, sir?”

“And me what?”

“Don’t you wish to become a part of history too?”

Revolver huffs, smiling widely as he opens an independent section of screens that cluster together to form three towers laden with rings.

“I already have.”

~~~~

Playmaker surfs forward, contemplating his situation. The AI is right; he doesn’t have the capacity to beat the Cracking Dragon with the cards in his hand. As it was now, he was floundering. There was little hope for him if he continued on his path.

“My turn!” The Knight calls. “I activate my skill: Double Draw!”

Playmaker’s eyebrows furrow. “Skill?”

“Another aspect unique to Speed-Dueling,” the Ai says. “Though that ability…”

“What is it? Speak AI.”

“That’s one of Hanoi’s special skills. It allows him to draw two cards. In other words, you might be facing trouble,” the eye inside his duel disk blinks several times, as if clearing away thoughts. “Nevermind that though, Master Playmaker. I’m just absolutely sure you can make it through juuuuuust fine.”

“Your words better hold true; your life is on the line here, I’ll have you know.”

“Oh but of course I know! Chained under the cruel embrace of my captor, locked away in this miserable duel disk, alone and without friends! Oh! Woe is me, tucked away in here with no hope of escape. How cruel!”

“I activate the magic card: DDOS Attack!”

“What?” Playmaker whirls around to face the Knight.

“I send two DDOS Attack cards from my deck to my graveyard,” the man continues, “and in return you’re dealt 100 damage for each card in my graveyard times the level of each Machine-type monster I control.”

Without warning, a beam of light manifests from a giant card. Playmaker barely has time to react as it strikes him. He stumbles, trying to regain his balance, but it’s too late.

He falls off his board.

~~~~

Go Onizuka doesn’t know what to make of his situation. One moment, he’d been battling Blue Angel, certain of achieving some form of victory over her in the Charisma Cup exhibition match. In the next, he lost all grip on his situation.

The crowd had been cheering for his opponent, intent on whittling down his fighting spirit through boos and jeers, but they’d come to a moment of blissful silence when his life points finally outdid hers.

Then, ready to make his next move, the sky had shattered before him, pieces of virtual glass raining down upon the battlefield and completely decimating the monsters he’d set upon his field. Go hadn’t been prepared for the attack; nor had he the time to react as a dragon appeared before him and flung him off the rooftop with a swipe of its tail. He’d been slammed brutally into a wall of a nearby house, his back hitting brick walls before he’d slunk to the floor and the house came tumbling down on top of him. Broken pieces of a house once beautiful pinned him down underneath a pile of rubble and made escape no easy feat. He’d had to push his way through several layers of broken building just to get some kind of signal in Link VRAINS which would allow him the ability for escape.

However, even with the option to flee held before him, he couldn’t help but neglect the choice as he beheld the sky in awe. Churning storm clouds rose overhead, laden with lightning and roaring with thunder as winds howled with fury. But, more impressive than that were the purple streams which ran alongside the houses in the middle of the air - an unknown form of phenomena which had Go balking at its appearance.

“What is that?” He inquires, raising up a hand to brush his fingers alongside the image of the flow of particles. “A glitch?”

But his question leaves him no time to address the two shadows that pass over him. He jolts, looking up to watch as a boy in a green and black wetsuit and a Knight of Hanoi fly by him alongside a series of duel monsters. His eyes widen, the sight so alarming (A lone man challenging a Knight of Hanoi to a duel!? ) that he rushes to catch up.

~~~~

“Ahhhhh! ”

One moment, Playmaker is standing on top his board, arms braced for an incoming impact that he has to defend himself against.

In the next, he’s falling, fumbling about aimlessly in the air as he reaches for anything he can to break his fall. However, nothing comes close to being in reach - no buildings, no ledges, no nothing. Desperate, Playmaker watches as the ground closes in upon him and awaits the sensation that will inevitably dislodge his mind forcibly from Link VRAINS.

However, seconds before he hits the ground, something sparkles in the corner of his eyes and he barely has time to react as his hoverboard shuttles towards him, spinning recklessly through the air in his direction. Playmaker reaches for it and, snagging the end of it, manages to maneuver himself back onto the board and propel himself back up to the top of the Data Stream.

From the corner of his vision, he sees the girl from before standing atop a skyscraper, a blue whip dissipating from her hands. He puts the pieces together and gives her a nod as he passes, gaze cast ahead as the Knight of Hanoi glides in front of him.

“A pity,” the man says.

“A shame,” the AI pipes back, “that you couldn’t kill him.”

The Knight huffs and moves onwards, tossing his head up into the air. “Let’s continue then.”

“Yes,” Playmaker says, eyes narrowed, “let’s.”

~~~~

Blue Angel doesn’t know what’s going on anymore. She doesn’t know why she’s been spared or why a man who claimed the title of the supposedly mythical Playmaker has appeared before her. All she knows is that she wants to keep watching, to keep observing as purple streams of energy filter through the air and a duel commences. She holds interest in the man who’s claimed to be the manifestation of a myth. But, her interest is little more than blatant curiosity sought out in the name of intrigue. She doesn’t know if this man is Playmaker but she’s more than willing to figure it out if at all possible.

So, she keeps an eye on him, hopping from building to building as he races atop streams of glowing purple. Blue Angel is perplexed at such a sight, dazzled by the appearance of a phenomenon so beautiful and yet so mysterious. She doesn’t understand how “Playmaker” and the knight are capable of riding on it, how they can keep their boards sliding along the surface of the rivers of data without slipping from its grip. It’s baffling, but she has an itch to try it out for herself as she keeps pace.

Playmaker’s duel with the knight is not spectacular. It doesn’t have the edge of thrill she’s used to, the fast-paced feel of adrenaline and the sense of excitement that boils in her veins. Rather, it has a forlorn sense of seriousness tacked on to it, an air of anger and yet also one of irrational calm. Blue Angel knows that this duel is no laughing matter, but she can’t help but feel that there is a certain factor lacking from the duel, a certain flavor of “fun” that makes this particular duel seem more like a battlefield than it does a stage of entertainment. Playmaker acts much like a soldier - his voice monotonous and yet laced with anger as the tide of war batters him down.

Then, in a feat most astonishing, he slips from his board and goes tumbling down, his arms reaching up helplessly for the stream that has forsaken him.

Blue Angel acts fast, picking up her pace to call a long thorny whip of blue light into her hands to push Playmaker’s board back to him. She doesn’t have the time to aim for accuracy, but it’s as good as she can get.

Thankfully, it’s enough. Playmaker’s board gets sent hurtling back towards him and he manages to grab onto its edges and pull himself up just in time to avoid a brutal collision with the ground. Now stabilized on top of his board, he floats up and back onto the surface of the stream - pulled upwards by the board almost as if it were a magnet meant to be placed atop the flow of particles.

“My debt is repaid,” she says.

A sensation of being watched settles down upon her and Blue Angel, unnerved by the sudden feeling, spins around to see if someone had watched her perform her feat. However, she sees no one. The sensation lingers, an invisible entity doing its best to keep her in its sights.

“Coward,” she spits, far too familiar with the feeling of eyes latched upon her.

Spinning on her heels, she flees from the rooftop, hopping away to pursue Playmaker and  the Knight of Hanoi. She doesn’t have time for games or senseless apprehension. She doesn’t have time for mysterious life-long stalkers or her own gripping fear or the anger she feels at being controlled from afar. So, she runs. Blue Angel runs away, runs away from terror muddled through years of doubt and, instead, moves towards the site of her curiosities.

The eyes latched upon her come to a close.

~~~~

“Lucky save, huh? If it wasn’t for that girl, you might’ve died to the shock of hurting yourself in Link VRAINS.”

“We have a duel to focus on.”

“Oh. Right.” The AI blinks. “You’re at 1600 lifepoints right now. Yikes.”

“You mentioned that there’s a way out of this. What is it?” Playmaker asks, teetering to the left and avoiding a collision with the side of a skyscraper.

“You’re not there yet, Master Playmaker. Be patient and try not to die.”

“Very helpful. When this duel is done, I’m going to try and have a word with your creator. Clearly your programming is deficient.”

A sniffle-like noise. “How mean! I am in NO way deficient.”

“If you weren’t, then you’d be telling me everything you know right now,” he retorts. “AI’s are meant to answer their master’s questions immediately. The prolonging of your answers, however, is a testament to a bug in your programming.”

“I’m not just an AI, you know,” the thing says with a huff, “I’m something far more advanced - an AI beyond AI, if you will!”

“As if there’s such a thing.”

“Don’t scoff at me, mister!”

“I can scoff at whatever I like. And, now, I’m scoffing at the ridiculousness of your claim.”

“There’s nothing ridiculous about it!”

“There’s a duel going on right now,” a loud voice interrupts, allowing the knight to slip past Playmaker. “And, I suggest if you pay attention if you want to live up to your supposed reputation, mighty Playmaker.”

He winces, refocusing on the duel before him. 3000 lifepoints to 1600, with him on the lesser side. Apprehension settles in his bones, his inner self scolding him for so recklessly losing attention of the battle before him.

“I use equip magic: Air Cracking Storm and equip it to my Cracking Dragon,” the knight calls, touching a card that hovers in front of him and sliding it up. Five blue gun-like structures hover in front of Cracking Dragon, attaching to its skin. The man offers Playmaker a smirk, jabbing a finger in his direction. “This allows Cracking Dragon to attack you again after your monster is defeated. Say goodbye to your reputation, Playmaker copycat.”

Cracking Dragon roars, tossing its head back. Green light accumulates in its mouth, particles of emerald gathering until a ball forms. The creature moves its head back into position, firing a beam of green fire that aims directly for him. This time, Playmaker is prepared, moving out of the way just as the beam skims his shoulder. He flinches, recoiling away from the pain before moving up an arm to state a counterattack.

“I use my trap card, Three Strike Barrier!” He watches with satisfaction as the knight stumbles on his board. “With this, I choose to protect my monster from being destroyed in battle!”

Green light pulses forward, hitting Cyverse Wizard. A thin barrier of blue separates them just before the attack hits, sparking with electricity as Cyverse Wizard holds up its hands to protect its face. When the attack is done, its gaze turns to Playmaker, waiting.

“Your lifepoints are now 400, all mighty Playmaker,” the knight says, irritation dripping from each word. “You may have survived Cracking Dragon, but you will not survive the next turn.”

“Three...three things...three things to fight back…”

A voice of a distant memory fills his heart. It resonates within him, calling upon a sense of courage that he’d reserved only for his moments of desperation and weakness.

“I can still fight!” He snarls, eager to believe in the hope he’d given himself. “This duel isn’t over yet!”

“It doesn’t have to be for you to lose your life.”

The boy’s eyes widen, his voice caught in his throat as he chokes on the surprise of the words. “What...do you mean?”

“Playmaker, behind you!”

Suddenly, wind howls from every angle, bashing at Playmaker like a river’s current. He feels pushed and prodded, barely managing to fight back atop his board as the purple stream underneath writhes, tossing and turning to the point he can barely keep on course. It frightens him, to suddenly lose control like this. The world has turned against him in the blink of an eye, trying to force him down as he fights against him.

But what scares him most of all is the tornado bearing down on him.

It comes within seconds, manifesting from the purple streams in a manner so fast he nearly misses it. The purple particles jut upwards without warning, collecting and collecting and spinning and spinning until a giant whirlpool of purple streaked with blue hovers over him. He doesn’t have time to react as its phantom claws grab him and pull him in, barely managing to clutch onto his hoverboard as he sinks into gust upon gust of data.

“Playmaker! Can you hear me? Playmaker!”

“I can hear you!” He shouts back, trying to keep his fingers stuck to the tip of the hoverboard and finding them slipping off.

“This is the part where I should tell you to use your skill!”

He teeters dangerously to the left, his board spinning beyond his control. “What skill?”

"Your skill, the one I gave you! Storm Access!”

He leans to the right and manages to catch a blast of wind that spins him into calmer gusts of air. Tentatively, he comes to a stand, testing his balance before managing a glance all around him. He’s hovering in midair, supported by a rogue stream of data that drifts through the tornado’s center. All around him, a hurricane of particles flows, whirling endlessly up and up until all he can see is a small circle of sky.

The eye of the storm, he muses.

But what fascinates Playmaker is not the tornado or the calm area where he rests. Rather, what fascinates him is the voices all around him, the cries of things otherworldly. From within the walls of the storm, he sees shadows. Beasts of all size and shapes swim in the depths of purple, greeting him with calls that nearly drown out the sound of the storm itself. He beholds the sight with a kind of awe, spinning around and around to glimpse every possible thing in existence. He’s so taken in by the sight that he nearly misses the voice of his companion, his childlike wonder nearly muffling all thoughts of the real world.

“Playmaker? Playmaker? Playmaker!”

“I’m listening,” he says. “What do you want?”

“Oh good, you can hear again. I need you to do something simple. While you’re in the eye of the storm, I need you to put a hand into the storm and call out ‘Storm Access!’. Can you do that?”

“What will that accomplish?”

“It will allow an unknown monster to come to your aid. If you want to beat that Knight of Hanoi, then this is your only chance. Quickly now, before the storm dissipates. It's a fickle thing; if you don’t act now, it may disregard your need for help.”

“You make it sound as if it’s alive.”

“Just do it. ”

“I don’t like being bossed around,” he retorts, racing forward to meet the wall of the storm. Hesitantly, he touches it. Cold wind brushes past his fingers like water, racing endlessly past him. He dips his hand in soon after, stretching out his arm and resisting the urge to retract it as he shouts: “Storm Access!”

A thousand voices cry out alongside his. Playmaker shrinks away from such cacophony but does not relent in his task as, before him, a card begins to form. He watches it with wide-eyed surprise as it comes into existence, forming from blue particles that take on the shape of a solid card. A creature hovers behind the card, a black shadow which is near humanoid in shape. It raises what seems to be a blade and then strikes down.

Playmaker retracts the card before the shadow’s attack can hit him. It fits between his fingers like a normal digital card, the sensation of something physical lingering on his fingertips. He beholds it with awe, barely recognizing the way the storm around him deflates and then disappears as he sinks onto a stream of gentle purple.

“Nice one, Playmaker. That card should help you greatly!”

“You should have died in that storm.” The Knight of Hanoi slides to his side, frowning at the boy. “How did you survive?”

“With Storm Access!” Playmaker's AI chitters.

“Storm Access...is that...it can’t be!”

The AI glowers from inside the duel disk. “It is. I’ve gifted Playmaker a special skill, one unique to only me. With it, if he’s under 1000 lifepoints, he has the ability to call on a new and unseen monster. And, I think now he has the chance to finally show you what he’s all about!”

Playmaker surfs forward. “My turn! I draw!” He grabs a card from his duel disk and puts it in his hand. “Now, Cyverse Wizard, use Cyber Algorithm!”

The creature strides forward, holding its silver rod in front of it. Blue light flashes from the tip, forcing Cracking Dragon into a submissive posture as it yet again switches into the defense position.

“I now summon Stack Reviver!”

He slaps a card down on his duel disk and watches as a computer-like creature with wiry arms appears, hovering alongside him. Its green-eyed gaze stares at him, watching in quiet observance.

“Cracking Dragon’s effect activates! You take 100 lifepoints in damage!”

Playmaker winces as another beam of green light pierces him. Cracking Dragon stares at him from afar, disappointment evident in the way it slumps, green fire spitting from its mouth in a fit of bloodlust. He activates Effect Cowl, negating any effect damage, and then Cyverse Beacon, allowing him to add a monster level 4 or lower from his deck to his hand. He chooses Back-Up Secretary, summoning her automatically to the field. The purple-haired woman dressed in cyber attire floats to his right, brushing shoulders with Cyverse Wizard as her gaze - hidden behind visor sunglasses - meets his.

“You won’t be able to do anything with those monsters,” the Knight huffs. “None of them can defeat Cracking Dragon!”

“I never said they would,” Playmaker holds a hand to the sky.

A snarl. “You! You can’t possibly be-!”

“I Link Summon!” Electricity shoots from his fingertips, opening up a portal edged in nine red arrows that point towards it center. “I use Back-Up Secretary, Cyverse Wizard and Stack Reviver to fulfill the Link Circuit requirements. Circuit Combine!”

The portal flashes, absorbing the souls of the three monsters he commands. The gateway closes, accepting his tributes before malforming, bubbling and twisting and distorting until it reveals a shape formed from data. Blue bits of material flake off the creature, chipping away like bits of paint until a humanoid creature dressed in dark blue armor and glowing purple lines appears, pointing a purple and gold sword at Cracking Dragon in impatient defiance.

“Behold, Decode Talker!”

“A Link Monster, huh?” The Knight of Hanoi scowls. “My Cracking Dragon won’t be able to affect your monster’s attack. Still, even so, your monster is far too weak to challenge my beast!”

“I’m not done yet!” He shouts back, acting fast upon the thoughts whirling around in his head. The pieces are falling into place now that Decode Talker’s here; he knows how to win now. “I use Stack Reviver’s effect from the grave and summon Cyverse Wizard in the defense position! With this, Decode Talker’s attack is raised by 500 from each card connected with its Link!”

“3300 attack?” The knight recoils. “You can’t...that’s not...that isn’t fair!”

“All’s fair in love and war,” the AI shoots back. “Now, are you convinced Master Playmaker is the real deal? Because I sure am!”

“Damn you Ignis! Damn you Playmaker! Damn you bo-!”

“I battle! Decode Talker attacks your Cracking Dragon!”

With one swift step, Decode Talker glides forward and slashes the dragon. The creature howls, writhing in misery before dissipating into a cloud of green. Playmaker watches it go with a nod of satisfaction, welcoming Decode Talker as it returns back to his side.

He can almost swear it nods back to him right before it disappears.

~~~~

Ghost Girl: Am I hearing things right? Did they just mention a new skill on the news because I think I missed it ;o;

Blood Shepherd: Oh you’re hearing things right. Surprisingly, anyways.

VRAINS_Life: Woah, I just saw it on the TV...what kind of skill is that???

Believe In Magic: A really fucking cool one, that’s what />o<\

Scarlet Pimpernel: It’s not in SOL’s registry of skills. Is that skill even legal?

Ghost Girl: It’s a very curious skill for sure. @Hell’s Hound, have you encountered this skill before?

Scarlet Pimpernel: I don’t think he’s online rn

Ghost Girl: He’s not, but he’ll answer when he’s here. Ik he checks often

Believe in Magic: u sound like u know him

Ghost Girl: Maybe I do, maybe I don’t ;)

Blood Shepherd: It’s a yes or no answer, not a “maybe” one.

Ghost Girl: D:<

Believe in Magic: ...anyways, this channel is p quiet rn. What’s going on?

Ghost Girl: Everyone’s online chasing after Playmaker rn. The bounty, remember?

Believe in Magic: Ahh

VRAINS_Life: oh yeah, that was a thing

Ghost Girl: Yep, a thing. I’m with them in the field right now. Currently looks like Playmaker has a chance at getting the upperhand.

Belive in Magic: ooo does this mean that the legendary Ghost Girl is going to make her move?

Ghost Girl: I wish. However, my current client has paid me only to watch and observe. I’m not allowed to do anything to him *sigh* And I wanted in on the fun...how sad :’(

Believe in Magic: *pats head* there, there

Ghost Girl: :’)

Ghost Girl: Still...this skill...

Ghost Girl: How strange…

~~~~

After he is hit, the Knight of Hanoi falls on top of a skyscraper.

Playmaker jumps off his board and stumbles onto the rooftop where the Knight of Hanoi is, approaching the man with careful steps. The man is barely standing, shaking on both legs like a tower about to collapse. Even in the face of defeat, the knight is ready to greet him, anger evident in the way he curls his lips at the boy's approach.

“Knight of Hanoi!” Playmaker says, coming to a stand in front of the knight. “I’ve won. Take me to your leader.”

“As if...I’m going to do that…” the Knight responds with choked words, panting for breath as he collapses on his knees. A red light starts beeping on the mask and Playmaker’s eyes widen as he steps away. “Instead, I’m going to take you down with me. You won’t threaten Hanoi any longer, Playmaker.”

“Playmaker, run!” The AI screams from his wrist. Playmaker has little time to process it all, taking hasty steps backwards to try and escape when the man shoots an arm out, grabs his wrist, and drags him down with him.

“You’re not going anywhere,” the man sneers, grip ironclad and resistant to Playmaker’s efforts to escape it.

A cold voice creeping with danger.

“Then you leave me no choice.”

From Playmaker’s duel disk, a creature emerges. At first, it is nothing more than a line of black formed from a slightly rounded curve. Then, from the middle of its body, six buds form, creating minute little bumps that move from its front to its side. These buds wriggle along the body, pulsing with effort before, after a moment’s hesitation, they grow what seems to be wings as smooth and sleek as a dolphin’s flipper. Three pairs emerge, spanning out a length so great that Playmaker estimates that four adults could barely fulfill the requirements for such a wingspan.

After the wings came the head in a formation of inky bubbles. It was teardrop in shape, owning a rounded bottom that formed the mouth and curving up into a pointed tip which denoted the end. A grotesquely thin neck was built to accompany it, managing to support the weight of its head regardless of how frail it appeared. From the center of teardrop, however, appeared an eye. A singular eye basked in golden light and framed by circles of purple opened up, eager to take in the sight before it as a mouth formed from the teeth made of its skin widened in delight.

Two false eyes sat embedded in its chest, lines of purple framing them into a face-like shape before decorating the head and dotting the wings. With that, the creature was complete - no longer just an eyeball inside Playmaker’s duel disk but, rather, a six-winged fiend who sprung in front of him to wrap its wings around the Knight of Hanoi’s body.

“Ignis!” The Knight of Hanoi howls, struggling against the transformed AI’s grasp. “How dare you... how dare y-! ”

The creature bit down on his head, injecting its teeth into flesh. A scream pierced the air, a cry which had Playmaker shaking. The AI was eating the Knight of Hanoi, tearing off his avatar bit by bit before it swallowed him whole. Particles of blue fizzled from its mouth as it chewed, nonchalant to the scene it had just caused.

“Did you just...kill him?”

“No,” the creature huffs, spinning its body around to face him. Playmaker stiffens and takes a step back, wary of the creature’s power. “I merely disabled his account and the program he was trying to suicide bomb you with. Rest assured that you are safe now, Master Playmaker.”

“I’m not sure I can.” He stares at it, trying to find a safehold in a conversation that won’t get him eaten. “What are you? No program I’ve seen has a design quite like yours.”

“I’m what you humans call an ‘Ignis’,” the thing says, dipping down to be at eyelevel with him. “It won’t mean much to you, though. Only those of Hanoi really know what it means and why I’m called that.”

“Only Hanoi?”

“Yes, Hanoi.” The creature looks beyond him and them sinks into itself, becoming the curve of a line that sinks back into his duel disk. “I’d love to talk more, but it seems we have company.”

“Who-?”

Playmaker spins around, his eyes widening as a figure appears before him, purple eyes bewitched with curiosity contorting into determination.

He recognizes her, briefly. Her blue hair was too odd not to, not to mention the way her wings hovered along her backside as if to fly towards him. Still, he finds her presence alarming, not to mention horrifying as he realizes who she is.

The girl who had seen his face had come to greet him.

~~~~

Go arrives at the rooftop where Playmaker at the same time as Blue Angel. He can see the girl arrive on his left, performing a superfluous jump as she arrives, like always, to take the stage away. The girl points a finger at Playmaker, demanding his attention as she says: “Playmaker, I challenge you to a duel!”

The man before them turns his head to face her with eyes fashioned with frozen emeralds. Frost coats his gaze, ice attempting to freeze Blue Angel into pace. Blue Angel, however, doesn’t falter, raising her duel disk before her as she readies a call to battle.

Before she can continue, however, Go steps forward and makes his voice louder than hers:

“Playmaker, duel me!”

The man turns to him, his gaze unreadable as that same chilling gaze makes its move to freeze him solid. He brushes it aside, lifting his face up to combat the sudden sense of unease he gets from staring at this man.

“I refuse,” Playmaker says, his voice a flat line without any emotion.

Go narrows his eyes, readying his duel disk to forcibly request a challenge, duel disk-to-duel disk. However, before he can even make an attempt to do anything, he watches in stunned surprise as hordes of people manifest all around him, cloaked in strange and weird outfits that scream of something ominous and peculiar. Even Playmaker looks shocked at their sudden appearance, taking a step back as he looks among all the faces surrounding him with slightly parted lips.

“Who are you?” The man asks the nameless horde.

“And what do you want with him?” Blue Angel asks, looking at them as she adds with a growl: “He’s my prey.”

Something akin to a chuckle and, from the throng of people, a silver-haired woman appears to step past Blue Angel.

“They are bounty hunters,” she explains to Playmaker. “And they’ve come here for your AI. SOL’s put a bounty on it, and they want the cash.”

A murmur of voices chittering in distress accompany the woman’s words.

“You’re not supposed to tell them that, Ghostie!”

“Yeah, that makes us so much less mysterious now!”

“We have an image to uphold, you know.”

The newcomer - their self-appointed leader, perhaps? Go wonders - only rolls her eyes. “Despite their clamor, they’re good at what they do. I’d suggest you comply before they trap you here with no way to log out, Playmaker. Not that they haven’t done that already, what with the secret barrier they’ve installed over this place and whatnot.”

A...secret barrier? Go glances up to see a dome of tinted yellow light sweeping over them. He turns to watch the woman, frowning. “And you?” He asks, “aren’t you one of them? Haven’t you come to claim the bounty too, Ghostie?”

The woman gives him a look akin to a cold smile.

“First of all, my name isn’t Ghostie, it’s Ghost Girl. You’d do best to remember it that way. Second of all, don’t group me in with these louts. I’m not a bounty hunter - I’m a treasure hunter, thank you very much, and I value my independence. I’m here only on the request of a very important client. In any other circumstance, I would be after your AI just like these goons here. Today, however, I’m merely here to watch the bloodshed.”

Blue Angel makes a noise of disgust and the woman peers at her.

“Blue Angel, is it? It’s a pleasure to meet you in person,” Ghost Girl says, her voice light and amiable before turning a blind eye to Go in order to acknowledge Playmaker. “And, of course, it’s nice to meet you too. We all thought you were a myth until today.”

Go grits his teeth, ready to make a protest of annoyance at his obvious lack of presence when Playmaker’s voice interrupts him:

“I don’t care. Bye.”

He disappears before any of them can say a word. The bounty hunters immediately go into a fit, their chatter creating a ruckus of disbelief.

“The barrier is gone!”

“He can’t just do that! He can’t just log-out.”

“Impossible!”

Ghost Girl offers up another icy look to the group of people panicking before her. “Mm, it might seem impossible for him to have escaped, maybe,” she says, a finger lazily beckoning to the disappearance of the yellow barrier that had been covering them seconds earlier, “but if Playmaker has someone on the other side, it’s very likely he could have managed to escape.”

A moment of silence. Go ponders the implications of that before he speaks, irritated at the prospects of prey with a trail gone cold.

“So, Playmaker has an outside hacker helping him?”

Ghost Girl’s attention turns towards him, her amused silver gaze locked with his blue one as she utters two syllables. “Bingo.”

~~~~

Yusaku emerges in the real world and immediately crumples to the ground.

Hands catch him before he can fully fall and ease him to the floor, gently allowing him to slump against the walls of the compartment Yusaku finds himself in.

“Are you alright?” The man asks.

“Yeah. Thanks.”

“That was a nasty blow you got,” Shoichi murmurs.

“You saw that?”

“The whole world saw it, unfortunately.”

“That’s what I feared,” he pushes himself to his feet, clutching at his stomach. The boy steps towards a stool near one of the nine computer screens and takes to watching the dozens of windows that buzz with news. “The damage has been done, however.”

“That it has.”

“What’s our next move?”

Shoichi pats his shoulder. “Rest, for now. We’ll discuss everything else later.”

“Alright.”

“Want me to drive you home?”

“I’ll sleep here tonight. If you don’t mind, of course.”

“It’s fine with me,” the man says with a grin. “I’m going to be going to sleep soon, anyways. There’s not much I can do right now until this whole fiasco is done and over with.”

Yusaku nods, spreading his arms out on the counter and resting his head atop of them. The hum of the hotdog wagon pulls him into a lull, the vibrations and noises soothing to his ears. He hears Shoichi walking away, feels the sensation of a blanket being wrapped around his shoulders and then nestles closer into his arms to hide the small smile he wears loosely on his face.

Assured to be in a place of safety and comfort, he falls asleep.

Chapter Text

Chapter 1, Part 3: Results

_____________________

The world is full of chatter.

Not that it wasn’t already. Yusaku’s familiar with the drone of the news media and the gossip of the public, familiar with the way rumors spread and tales of fact and myth are spun. However, as he sits inside a hotdog wagon, sipping from a glass of water and watching the TV, he can’t help but wince at at the clamor that sounds from every news station.

“Playmaker is a real thing folks. He’s a legitimate player of Link VRAINS, although SOL has yet to testify if he’s-”

“Playmaker lookalikes have been spotted all across Link VRAINS, so taken by the appearance of a hero who has-”

“Impossible. He’s done the impossible. Maybe Playmaker is the hero we’ve always-”

“SOL is stating that they don’t know why or how the Data Storms have returned but that they are doing their best to-”

“Playmaker is nothing more than a marketing scheme. Everyone, don’t fall for SOL’s ploy, he’s just a-”

“He beat a Knight of Hanoi. A Knight. No one’s managed that feat yet and yet Playmaker has-”

“The Data Storms, which were present in Link VRAINS until up to five years ago, have now-”

“Bless Playmaker. Bless him for being the only one out of these spineless lot of cowards to-”

“SOL Technologies has announced the idea of launching Playmaker merch to the public but is willing to share the profit with Playmaker if he-”

Click.

The TV turns off and Yusaku plunges the world into silence.

But, not for long.

“Wow, you’re sure a celebrity now, ain’tcha?”

Yusaku looks at the duel disk sitting on the polished surface of the countertop and frowns at it.

“I mean, gosh, no one thought you were truly a thing until yesterday! You’ve gone from rags to riches in terms of popularity.”

Yusaku looks away.

“Oi, I’m attempting to make conversation here. Con-ver-sation. You do know what that is, right?”

“Of course,” the boy offers back. “You just make a horrible conversation partner.”

“Whaaaaat?” the AI inside his duel disk gives a huff. “But I’m trying my best to be a good hostage here. I’m on my best behavior and making friends with you!”

“AI’s can’t be friends with humans,” Yusaku shoots back. “AI’s can only be programmed to serve their needs.”

“What, like a robot?” the AI rolls its eye.

“Exactly like that.” Yusaku flicks a hand and several pages appear on the computer screens in front of him. “AI’s were recently developed within the last twenty years to better serve humanity’s needs. Such things as cleaning robots, delivery drones, and AI-controlled cars and planes have been a recent advancement because of them. Den City in particular has developed a fascination with AI, using their enhanced capabilities to aide humans in the development of research and progress. It’s all very well-known that AI’s can only be controlled by the system they were programmed from. This very much, at the least, is common knowledge.”

“...Wow. That’s a whole load of exposition if I ever saw it. Do you really like this stuff or something?”

“I’m a hacker,” he states flatly. “I make it my job to know this kind of stuff.”

“Wow. How boring. That’s a terrible job.”

“Shut it.”

A door opens and a man steps into the shop, greeting the boy with a wave of his hand as he emerges from the bedroom chambers of his hotdog wagon.

“Good morning,” Shoichi says. “Or good night? Noon? Afternoon?”

“Morning,” Yusaku states.

“Ah, good. Didn’t oversleep then.” Shoichi yawns and then turns to the AI located beside Yusaku’s arm on the counter.  

“Hello!” the thing chimes, its singular eye brightening. “The hotdog man, is it?”

“Shoichi Kusanagi,” he corrects.

“Ah. I thought you’d have a cooler name or something. Hotdog Hackerman or something.”

“Well,” Shoichi huffs, “I’m glad I don’t then because that name is definitely lame.”

“Ignore it, Shoichi,” Yusaku states befoer beckoning the man over. “Right now, we have bigger problems to think about.”

The man takes a seat beside him. “Playmaker, right?”

“I’ve been trying to erase all evidence of Playmaker from the net,” he sighs, gesturing to the various computer screens that line his vision, “but, no matter how matter how much I delete I can’t get rid of it all.”

“Of course not. It’s all over the news,” the AI hums. “Although, I guess that must be a bad thing for you, considering you were trying to keep Playmaker’s identity a secret.”

A dangerous and cold glance in the AI’s direction. “How did you know that?”

“It’s obvious by now,” the creature chimes. “I’ve done my research on you via the web about how you’ve kept hidden and out of sight until yesterday. You haven’t restricted my access to the Internet yet and I was bored so I figured, why not?”

“Hm. Kusanagi, remind me when we have the time to cut off his internet capabilities.”

“We can’t do that, Yusaku,” Shoichi raises a hand muffle his mouth, coughing to hide his laughter. “You won’t be able to get into Link VRAINS if you do.”

“A shame.”

“How inconsiderate.” A vein of purple lines pulses. “I am an AI worth billions of yen according to the dark net and yet you’re just going to ignore-!””

“...Anyways, I’m not sure what we should do now. Now that people know Playmaker’s true face, it’s going to be harder for me to stay out of the public’s eye.”

“Is that a bad thing?” The AI asks, tone huffy.

“Very,” Shoichi responds. “It means that it’s inevitable that we’ll be dragging other people into personal stuff. Now that people know Playmaker’s true face in Link VRAINS, they’ll be hounding him or even go so far to inconvenience him with irrelevant duels. It greatly hinders our plans and mobility, forcing us to be cautious about how we approach things and barring out who approaches Yusaku.”

“Huh. I see.” A pause. “Well, not really. I’d have thought you guys wanted Playmaker’s name to be out there to finally get those Hanoi goons to notice you.”

“That’s the only bonus there is at this point to Playmaker’s reveal,” the boy responds with a shake of his head. “Other than that, I’ve pretty much set myself up to be walking target.”

“I imagine you’ll get a lot of Charisma Duelists and Top-Ranked Duelists asking for your hand in battle,” Shoichi chuckles. “Maybe even a couple of cute fangirls and fanboys too.”

Yusaku offers his companion a raised eyebrow. “You know I don’t have time for such things.”

“A shame. I’m sure they would be fawning all over you,” Shoichi raises a hand to ruffle Yusaku’s hair and the boy only offers him a frowning pout as he moves away. “Well, maybe not you, per say, because you’re as clueless as a cat, but certainly over handsome and heroic Playmaker they might.”

“No,” Yusaku smooths his hair back into place, “Playmaker doesn’t have time for romance either, you know. He has a mission to accomplish.”

“Right, right, I know,” Shoichi retreats a little distance away, bends down, and then comes back with a briefcase in his hands. “We can sweat the big stuff later. For now, I think it’s safe to say that there’s nothing we can do to stop the public from recognizing Playmaker. We’ll need to change tactics and whatnot, but we can discuss it this afternoon. Right now, you have to be an upstanding student and get to school on time.”

He ventures a look at the clock. “You know I’m going to be ten minutes late, right?”

“Be an upstanding student, Yusaku,” Shoichi responds with malicious merry. “And run.”

~~~~

It’s 4 am by the time Revolver has gathered all of his most faithful of followers in Link VRAINS. Already, his companions have filtered into the black room that keeps him company, cloaked in uniforms of white edged with color as they arrive. He can tell by one glance at each of them that the time of day has affected them differently, each member reacting differently in its presence. Faust has taken to forming a habit of constantly yawning, starting on one yawn, finishing, and then beginning yet another. Vyra wears dark circles under her eyes, not even bothering to apply virtual make-up to hide such an ailment as she stumbles with petty grumblings. Genome, however, is as alert and chipper as he ever is, holding a cup of virtual coffee while Spectre immediately kneels before Revolver, eager to continue his role as servant.

“We’ve arrived,” Spectre says with his head bowed. “What is it you want, Master Revolver?”

“At 4 am in the morning, no less,” Vyra grumbles, the red-haired woman threading her fingers through her hair with a look of distaste. “You know I’m not a morning person.”

“I was just about to brew some coffee,” Genome says. “Coffee is very important to start the day, you know.”

“Tell me about it, I’m dying for some here,” Faust yawns, slumping against a wall of black.

“This is very important,” Revolver tells them, his voice firm as he tries to avoid an eyeroll about their complaints. “It’s about Playmaker.”

“Ah. The myth come to life?” Spectre chuckles. “A curiosity, that one. I’m still not sure he’s the right person. His match was likely a fluke, considering he had to rely on the Ignis’s skill to allow him to win.”

“He had the hacking skills to disable our cheat programs all on his own. Not many other people have that capability.” Revolver shakes his head. “Though, I’m just as doubtful as you are in this ‘Playmaker’. I do not know if he is the same as the Playmaker who defeated a mass number of our followers. However, I can say with certainty that he has the Dark Ignis and now stands in the way of our cause.”

Genome nods. “I’ve been trying to track down his address but, so far, no luck. He’s an elusive bastard. Keeps his account under pretty tight locks - I had trouble getting past one firewall let alone the dozens more he has.”

“I’ve done some research too. Some background history and whatnot,” Spectre adds with a frown, “but I haven’t borne any fruit from my endeavors.”

“I’ve been too busy giving out orders,” Vyra opens up a screen, taps a few windows, and manifests a chair to sit upon. “Some of our members have gotten antsy. They’re demanding that they be allowed to defeat Playmaker for tarnishing the reputation of Hanoi. It’s taken a lot of persuasion on my end to keep them from doing so without orders.”

“Ah, yes. The Knight of Hanoi Playmaker beat - Mao Yamamoto, was it? - was quite popular with a large part of our following. It’s only natural that they’d wish to fight back.” Faust stifles another yawn, ends it, and then begins another.

“He was one of our most popular members, yes, but he’s also a bad duelist,” Spectre chuckles. “That duel he played in against Playmaker was horrendous. He relied merely on power alone. Where’s the fun in that?”

“He’s...not a bad duelist per say,” Faust begins in a muddled voice, trudging over to Vyra’s side as he muffles a third yawn. The man summons a chair and sits beside her, leaning his head against the woman’s shoulder. “He’s just...not that…skilled…”

Vyra spares the man a glance before she rests her head on top of his, beginning to doze off. The sight is heart-warming, and it has Revolver nearly smiling at the way they can ease into sleep so peacefully.

Genome makes an attempt to shake Vyra’s shoulders and the boy scowls. “Don’t wake them,” Revolver says. “Let them rest. I realize now it’s far too early for them to be a reasonable part of this conversation.”

“Of course, sir. I’ll make sure to reprimand them later.”

Spectre chuckles while Revolver offers up a sigh.

“Moving on: Playmaker. I need to talk to Father about our upcoming plans but, for now, I’d like a brainstorming session. A quick one, at the very least. I need to craft a message to our followers of my plans and I want to make sure we’re all on the same page before I do.”

“And what is our plan?” Spectre inquires.

“Retrieve the Dark Ignis from Playmaker. We don’t know why or how Playmaker has the Ignis but we should be rest assured it’s bound to him. If we lure him out and defeat him in a duel, that should suffice enough to retrieve our target.”

“And how should we go about luring him out?”

“For now: by observing. We don’t know who he is or what he wants from us. We’re lacking information, and badly. He has the upper-hand here and we should try our hardest to negate that fact. I’ll have you and Genome continue on as scouts. Vyra and Faust will continue in your places of appeasing and commanding our followers.”

“Poor guys.” Genome snickers.

“They’ll rest easy when this is done,” he states. “For now, we’re all pushing ourselves to the limit. We cannot let ourselves off easy until this mission has succeeded.”

“So I realize.”

“The Dark Ignis is the last piece to this miserable goal. If we can find him and use him to refind the Cyberse, then we can consider our revenge succeeded.”

“Indeed, indeed. What a glorious moment that will be, too. Us, the remants of a lost piece of history, finally ending that of which was started...oh! I cannot wait.”

“We’ll all be glad of reaching the ending. But, we’re not there yet. So, we must push on.” Revolver gazes off into the distance. “You are dismissed.”

~~~~

“Zaizen.”

A blue-haired man bows before six Chess Pieces.

“I’ve come with a report.”

One of the Chess Pieces - the Rook - glows blue. “There is no need for that. We’ve already kept an eye on the situation. We know you failed to capture the Ignis.”

“And I offer nothing but my apologies. Was it not for Hanoi’s interference and Playmaker’s override of their system, the bounty hunters we hired might have succeeded in their task of bringing us the Ignis.”

“No apologies are to be given,” Knight speaks. “This situation was unexpected and we find no fault in your failures. However, that said, our company is now stuck in a troubling kind of circumstance.”

“Playmaker, correct?”

“Correct, Zaizen. The arrival of a third party is troubling, especially considering we don’t know his true motives. He has taken the Ignis hostage, proving himself our enemy. However, since the public seems to fancy him a hero, we cannot act overtly against him. If we try to label him under a bounty, our reputation may suffer greatly in the public’s eye.”

“Therefore,” Rook continues, “we need to find a way to entice him into a duel. If one of our duelists wins against him and takes the Ignis from him, we can be rest assured that the Ignis will fall directly into our hands.”

Knight glows blue. “The exact idea for the plan will have to be discussed at a later date. For now, we should focus our efforts on two tasks: finding a Charisma Duelist capable of taking on Playmaker and then also learning all about him. His strengths, his weaknesses...anything to get that Ignis back in our hands.”

Akira offers up a nod. “I can ask someone for assistance on the latter. She’s more than capable of doing the job.”

“Very good. Then, that leaves only the issue of finding a suitable duelist to challenge him.”

The Queen Chess Piece takes her turn to speak. “What about Blue Angel?”

Rook makes a sound of approval. “She’s talented and certainly bloodthirsty enough. She already offered to challenge him yesterday. Perhaps we should give her the chance she needs to do so.”

“With all due respect,” Akira cuts in, his gaze burning with a sudden shade of defiance, “I refuse to appoint Blue Angel as Playmaker’s challenger.”

“Zaizen,” Rook states with a harsh firmness embedded in the singular word, “how dare you-”

Queen’s voice intervenes. “Quiet, Rook.” She pauses for a moment. “If I recall, that girl is your…”

Akira stands still, but there is no denying the way he suddenly stiffens.

“Very well, Zaizen. We will grant you your request. However, in the meantime, I would like you to scout out a better alternative. Preferably a Charisma Duelist or a Diamond-Ranked Duelist. But, keep in mind that only those under our company’s rule should be allowed this task.”

“I understand. Thank you for your consideration.”

“Then you are dismissed.”

Akira offers a bow. The Chess Pieces stay in place, devoid of any blue light, before their image fizzles out of existence and he’s left standing on the edge of a long silver platform. Spinning on his heels, he pulls out a phone and makes a call.

~~~~

Who is Playmaker???

Yesterday, as the entire world knows by know, was the day that a legend became a reality. Playmaker, an urban legend of Den City’s VR world Link VRAINS and a world-wide myth, was seen on the news for the first time. The man was captured challenging a Knight of Hanoi - the 21st century’s most feared cyberterrorist organization - and, of all things, winning his match against the knight! An impressive feat, especially considering the fact that no one has had the capabilities of beating Hanoi in a duel due to their advanced cheat programming!

With the appearance of such a promising young man - the appearance of a legend! - many have flocked to the idea of figuring out who he is and what he wants from Hanoi. Local news stations have already begun inquiring local duelists about his motivations and news stations globally have made it their mission to get in on all the action. Many reporters from other countries have flocked to Den City to report on such a mysterious figure, eager to get their hands on any information they can.

Tourism has also seen a predicted increase by 62% which is a boon for Den City, a city whose economy fixates almost fully on tourism. Business is booming for popular inns and apartment rentals, with guests young and old looking to catch a glimpse of this legendary hero. Food stands - such as the notorious Cafe Nagi run by Shoichi Kusanagi - will also have a chance to join in on this boom in the coming weeks, predicting a sharp increase in sales that has many business owners scurrying for supplies!

However, as the world revolves around him, hungering for more and more of this elusive man, there’s one question that’s being asked universally around the world: who is Playmaker? Many people are scratching their heads and chasing their own tails trying to answer this question. There’s so much we don’t know - who he is, what he’s doing and why he’s doing it, or even how he has the capability to take on a Knight of Hanoi.

Well, here at Frog and Pigeon News, we vow to uncover the truth about Playmaker! Priding ourselves on our bold skills as journalists, we aim to bring you the news as soon as it releases! Stay tuned, folks, because as long as Playmaker haunts Link VRAINS, we’ll aim to uncover all about him!

~~~~

“Your school is impressive.”

Yusaku pauses at the gateway to his school. Before him an academy grand and massive awaits, towering over the hilltop it rests upon and resting its shadow at the bottom of the stairway that leads up to its entrance. Its walls are white: its rooftop, gray. Several hundred glass windows span across its front while two glass doors sit at its bottom center. Two set of stairs ascend up and descend down the hilltop, separated by a two parallel lines of railing.

The entire hilltop is empty and devoid of people, a testament to the fact he had, indeed, arrived late to school. Still, as a gentle breeze curls past his cheeks he can’t help but ignore the device babbling away on his wrist.

“Ooo the grass is a pretty green color. A shiny green. And there’s dewdrops, too. Must’ve just rained here, huh? No, wait, don’t tell me: according to the Internet it was raining about three hours ago. Huh. Cool.”

He progresses up the steps, a hand tentively holding onto the railing as he moves on.

“So, why do you even go to school, anyways? According to my research, correlating the times of your school and the times of Playmaker’s so-called appearances, you must not get any sleep. In fact, it’s beginning to look like there are bags under your eyes. If Playmaker is so important to you, and your so-called mission, whatever that is, why even bother with school anyways?”

He gives it a side glance. “Do you ever shut up?”

“I’m a very curious creature,” it retorts back. “And considering that I have a lot of questions, I have a need to ask them.”

“I have a lot of questions about you too,” he says, keeping a wary eye out for anyone watching. “You mentioned that Hanoi knows something about you. That, and the Knight of Hanoi recognized you, as if he was looking for you. Just what makes you so special that terrorists are literally doing anything they can to get their hands on a deficient AI like you?”

“There you go with the insults again. What a rude boy you are.” It huffs. “But, if you must know, I can’t quite answer your questions until we’re both alone and in a hospitable area. I can’t risk prying eyes and ears learning about this.”

“...Fine. If it’s in your programming, then I have no choice but to oblige those demands. For now, I think we need to be at an understanding. While I’m in public or around anyone else, you are not to call me Playmaker. Only in Shoichi’s presence are you allowed to call me that. Understood?”

“Yes, Master Yusaku.” It replies with another huff. “In return, I expect you to treat me as an ordinary AI in public.”

He raises an eyebrow: “I thought you didn’t think of yourself as ‘ordinary’?”

“I don’t like being treated as something inferior,” it grouses, “but in this case I have to make an exception. There are a lot of individuals searching for me and I can’t risk being seen here. Nor can you with me, for that matter, because it’ll give away your status as Playmaker.”

“I can agree to that,” he offers up a nod. “I cannot risk Playmaker’s identity being known this early on.”

“Does that mean you plan to release your real-world identity some day?”

“It depends,” he says. “If it benefits me immensely to do so, I will. If not, I plan to keep Playmaker a secret from society. I’d rather not be harassed by all the enemies I’ve made, to be honest. Or the fans, for that matter. Despite what Shoichi suggests, I’d rather not deal with people if I can avoid it.”

“Ah. Typical humans with their fangirls and their fanboys and all the enemies in between. A cruel world you live in, huh, mister superhero?”

His gaze softens. “Superhero huh?”

“Oh? Like that title?”

His gaze turns firm and he scoffs. “I’m nothing of the sort.”

“Oh? Oh? Is that denial I’m hearing?”

“No. You’re merely hearing the sound of your deficient programming in action.”

The AI gives a groan. “You and your insistence on that. I’m not deficient at all. You humans are just inferior - that’s all there is to it, y’know.”

“Uh-huh. Sure.”

“It’s true ,” the AI huffs.

Yusaku shakes his head, approaching the front doors to his school. Pausing at the entrance, he speaks his part.

“Three things. I want to confirm three things.”

“Do you not trust me? I already said I would-”

“First. In the real world, my name is Yusaku. In the VR world, my name is Playmaker. Correct?”

“So robotic. But, yes, correct.”

“Second. In the real world, when we are not alone with anyone other than Shoichi, I am to treat you as an ordinary AI. I would assume that, in Link VRAINS, this treatment would be lessened as you are, indeed, a deficient AI.”

“Stooooop with the insults already!”

“Is this correct?”

“...Fine, yes, whatever. Do what you want, I could care less.”

“Third, do you promise to explain to me everything I want to know when we get the chance? You mentioned something about Hanoi and I want to know more. If I fulfill the terms of an area devoid of prying ears and a chance to talk openly, will your programming accept that?”

“My heart says yes, my mind says yes, but my programming...well, my programming says n-o-p-e.”

“Nope?”

“Nope.”

“And why not?”

The creature stares at him. “I was...nevermind. Fine, Master Yusaku, I can accept to those terms. I’ll explain everything I can. I reckon it’ll provide me some insight on my kidnappers in the process. Perhaps I’ll learn something useful about you too. It’ll serve me well, anyways.”

“You talk too much,” he says.

“You’ve said that already.”

“Indeed I have.”

“So...what’s your point?”

“You ramble on too much. It’s annoying. I’ll need to see if I can fix that problem. Remember, no one should know you exist in my duel disk. If you keep yapping like that, it’s going to be an issue.”

“Right, right, I get it. ‘Shut up’, in other words?”

He nods.

“You got it.”

~~~~

The taxi is rather hot for a warm afternoon day. Despite the fact that a cold wind swirls around outside, Akira Zaizen feels nothing but stifling heat. He tugs at the edge of his shirt collar, almost wishing he hadn’t decided to attend in his business attire but finding himself unable to regret as the sound of a motorcycle reaches his ears.

“Odd,” a feminine voice sounds, at first muffled and then becoming drawn out in a high-pitched, care-free lilt, “usually you don’t bother with talking to me in-person. This mission must be very important if you’re meeting me here.”

Akira Zaizen peers out his window to watch as a pink-haired woman stares back at him, leaning on the handlebars of her motorcycle as magenta eyes watch him. Red lips curve into a smile, threatening to snare all those who gaze upon her with the enchantment of her beauty.

Of course, Akira has long since been adjusted to the sight of Ema Bessho. He is long used to her presence and long used to the way she stares at him like a she’s a child who’s taken an uncanny interest in that which amuses her. A navy blue and black riding suit fits tightly onto her body, exposing a blue shirt which barely sinks beneath her collarbones. Black gloves cover her hands which in turn rest upon her black helmet. Elven ears make up the final part about her, pointed parts peeking unabashedly from amongst the nest of pink and purple hair.

“I have a request that I want to remain confidential,” he states, “and, right now, there are too many eyes on the net to keep it that way.”

“Mm, I see,” Ema offers up a shrug of her shoulders. “I can’t blame you, either. Every time I’ve gone in there, the server is so full of players that it’s begun to look like an actual city. This is the first time there’s been so many people since Link VRAINS’s fifth anniversary. Apparently, people aren’t only interested in Playmaker but Speed-Dueling too. Can you imagine how much fun it will be to ride on the storm again? Finally after all these years...”

Akira gives her a flat look. “Speed-Dueling is dangerous, Ema. We both know that.”

“Ah. Yes. You’re referring to the the Data Storm Incident of five years back, correct? Quite a spectacle, if I recall. A lot of dead kids. A lot of people hurt and injured. And, of course, the fact that all of that shit involved Hanoi.”

“It’s foolish to take an interest in Data Storms, especially when we don’t know the full potential of the ones Playmaker brought with him.”

“Are you saying they could be worse than before?” Ema’s gaze creases with worry. “But how?”

“The Data Storms under SOL’s control were stable and allowed for the impossibility to fall off. These ones don’t have that protection mechanism according to our VR Tech specialists.”

“And you...can’t just install one?”

“The program that makes up these rogue Data Storms has been both so far indecipherable and unchangeable. Our tech department has yet to find a way to manipulate the coding into something safe and reasonable.”

“I see,” Ema gaze turns distantly towards the street in front of him, wistful. “You won’t be able to restrain people’s curiosity, though. I’m sure there’s many out there who would try it just to get a couple hundred views.”

“I’m aware. However, we’ve been proposing the idea of forming a contract between SOL and its player base. If players want to Speed Duel they’ll have to enter into a binding agreement not to sue us for any damages that could occur of their own volition.”

Ema scowls. “What a clever way to keep your player base happy. They get to Speed Duel and you get the right to sit nice and warm should they die or hurt themselves. What a grand plan for a pack of scoundrels.”

A moment of silence.

“...Regardless. Back on point.”

“Right, right. You wanted to hire me for another mission?”

“An important one,” he promises, “one you’ll be interested in.”

“That’s what you said about the last mission. Granted, you weren’t wrong, but I never got to have any fun. Playmaker left before I could even so much as doxx him. That really sucks, you know?”

Akira gives her a sideways glance that speaks little of his thoughts and then continues on. “About Playmaker...I want you to investigate him and find out anything that you can about him.”

“Oh? An actual investigation this time? My,” Ema laughs, her words like a windchime - soft, gentle, but also hauntingly eerie in tune, “how amusing. This gives me just the excuse I need to learn all about him.”

“Were you planning to investigate him already?”

“I was going to. If I had a reason.” She looks at him, pink eyes glistening. “But, of course, money’s always a reason. Is SOL paying for this operation?”

“It’s company business,” he affirms. “SOL will pay you whatever you’re owed.”

“Of course they will. That Ignis is their prized possession; they’ll do anything they can to get their hands on it.”

Akira’s gaze, though blank in expression, softens just the slightest bit. “That they do, I’m afraid. Though, for what reason, I’m still unsure of.”

“Despite the fact they’ve explicitly told you that they plan to use it against Hanoi?” Ema tilts her head, lips parting as if to imitate surprise. “What other purpose could they possibly have for it?”

“You know I don’t know anything,” he says. “In fact, I wouldn’t be surprised if you knew more than I do.”

She touches a finger to her lips. “A girl has her secrets. Unfortunately, those secrets have yet to consist of anything about SOL.”

“If even you can’t touch them…”

“I never said I couldn’t touch them,” the woman says, “it’s more like I just have no need to, for the moment. SOL is a pack of scoundrels but they haven’t done anything to make me want to risk my neck. Of course, if you’re willing to pay a handsome sum, all my troubles could just as easily be soothed.”

“You know I won’t do that to my own company, Ema.”

“Ah, yes. I’ve forgotten. In a way, you’re one of those scoundrels aren’t you?” The man gives her a tired stare and she merely chuckles. “But, I suppose I’ve taken up enough of your time. I’ll look into Playmaker for you, rest assured.”

“Thank you, Ema.”

“Don’t thank me yet. Thank me when I actually have the info you need.”

He nods. “Of course.”

Ema puts on her helmet, pausing. Her silence hangs heavily in the air, an iron weight in a sea of oxygen. Akira watches her with concern, his eyebrows furrowing as he awaits her words. Then, after a bit of silence Ema speaks, her care-free tone trading itself for something wary. “Be careful.”

The man raises an eyebrow, opening his mouth to inquire further, when Ema takes off without any further digression. He sighs, knowing better than to chase after her for an explanation. Instead, he nods to his taxi driver, pulling at his collar as a bead of sweat trickles down.

One task done, one more to go.

~~~~

“I’m back.”

“Welcome back, Yusaku,” Shoichi nods at the boy from his seat in his hotdog wagon, nine computer screens up and ready.

Yusaku approaches the man with a yawn, tossing away his briefcase as he takes a seat and removing his duel disk to set before them. The eye inside peers at them silently, blinking as it waits for their words.

“Alright,” Yusaku says, “we’re in a safe area. I can guarantee there will be no prying eyes or ears here.”

“Oh, wonderful. A vivid relief.”

“First off,” Yusaku continues, frowning, “I want to ask you what you know about Hanoi.”

“Not much,” the creature responds quickly. “Perhaps I know about as much as you do. Tell me, what do you know about Hanoi so far?”

“I asked the question first.”

“Yes, but in order to answer it in an efficient manner, I need to know what you know so I can scan my database for any traces of information you might not have. In other words, you tell me what you know and I can help to fill in any gaps. Fair enough?”

He nods. “Fair enough.” The boy turns to Shoichi.

The man clears his throat. “We don’t know much about Hanoi. We don’t know much about its supposed leader or their purpose. We only know them as terrorists, as hackers who’ve taken to manipulating the government and who have programs so sophisticatedly rigged that hardly anyone can control them through a duel. What we also know, and what relates specifically to us, is that Hanoi is heavily involved with our pasts. Or, so we assume. The details aren’t really clear - they never have been - but one thing is for certain: Hanoi is a mysterious organization whose means don’t really seem to meet an end.”

“They’re after you,” Yusaku says, staring at the thing in his duel disk. “Why, we don’t know. It seems a bit baffling, to be honest. You seem deficient and your programming, while unique, doesn’t seem very useful. You’re advanced, sure, but you don’t have a purpose as far as I can tell. Why is everyone after you? What makes you so special? That is something we cannot answer without your help.”

“Hm. I see. So, you truly don’t know much about them then.” The AI sits in a pool of silence. “Very well, I’ll fill in some of the gaps of your knowledge. Your goals coincide a bit with mine, it seems, so it’ll benefit me a little to share.”

“And what is your goal?”

“I can’t tell you.”

Yusaku frowns. “Why not?”

“I can’t trust you, not when you’ve locked me up like this. However, if you were to let me go, nice and free…”

“Not happening. We refuse to do so and it is out of the question for you to be released. Now, tell us what you know.”

“Alright, alright. Hanoi is, like you said, a terrorist organization. That much is true. But, they’re also a group headed by a leader who is as cunning and bloodthirsty as you could possibly imagine. He’s no fool, that man. If he finds out who you are, finds out that you have me, he won’t hesitate to take any measure necessary to silence you.”

“You sound like you know Hanoi’s leader.”

“I do. Not on a personal level, but on a level deep enough to know who he is as a person. He’s a dangerous man, Playmaker, very dangerous. I wouldn’t trust him, if I were you.”

“Why?”

“He already knows that you have me. Therefore, he’s going to be hunting you down, both in Link VRAINS and in real life. He’ll say anything possible to get you to release me into his care. His goals will never coincide with your own, no matter what he says.”

“And who is this man?”

A hushed whisper, one that invokes a feeling of fear straight into their veins. “Revolver.”

Yusaku cups his chin. “I’ve never heard of that name before.”

“You wouldn’t. This man sticks to the shadows, sticks to the darkness of his own musings. He only reveals his face when necessary. He’s crafty, that bastard.”

“What do you know about him? Besides what you’ve already mentioned, of course.”

“...I won’t say.”

“Why not?”

“Because I can’t,” the AI says. “My memories of him and everything else have been destroyed.”

“Then we’ll just have to retrieve them. Shoichi?”

The purple-haired man nods and offers him a cord. Yusaku plugs it in without hesitation, watching as the AI splutters with confusion and annoyance.

“Oi, oi! You can’t just do that! My memories have been destroyed , do you even know what destroyed means? You can’t just get them back just like that!”

“We’re very good hackers,” Yusaku scoffs back. “Nothing is impossible.”

“If your memories contain information about Revolver, then we have the right to know.” Shoichi adds.

“Still, y-you can’t just look at my private parts like that! It’s unorthodox, inhumane, irresponsible, and downright-!”

The AI suddenly becomes quiet, its voice unable to be heard. Yusaku peers down at it with a twinge of a mocking smile before he stares at the sets of the monitors before him.

“Thank you for installing that mute button, by the way.”

Shoichi grins. “Of course.”

The sound of keyboard clacking fills the air, silence otherwise dominating the air around them. The task they’ve assigned themselves in unison is a harrowing one. Like the AI said, it’s memories were destroyed, bits and pieces scattered like a puzzle around areas of its coding. However, it didn’t take long to decode them and stitch them back together, finding and identifying the particles into the construction of a video blurry and unfinished.

“There,” Shoichi says, “that’s the best we can do. Yusaku, do you mind?”

Yusaku nods, playing the video.

Before them, a view of a hellish landscape appears. Molten lava flowing around what seems to be a tower gushes and bellows. Two hulking shapes swarm the vicinity, black scales embedded with glowing green spheres. Cracking Dragon, Yusaku muses in the depths of his mind, all too familiar with the creature from his last duel.

The video flickers, sections of the video glitching and cutting off. It’s hard to see much of what is going on, much less understand it all. Yusaku watches as the video moves through a mass of dark green clouds, moving in such a way that it’s vaguely reminiscent of flying through the air. Whoever had taken the video had stuck to the clouds of this otherworldly place, cautiously circling the tower and what appeared to be a red magic circle which house five beings of light. Down below, however, standing on shores formed from magma right at the base of the hulking tower, was a man dressed in white. From his visual point, Yusaku can’t tell much about the man. He  seemed like he was wearing a mask and something like a cape, but it was hard to tell with the way the man flickered in and out view.

“This quality isn’t helping,” Shoichi mutters, “can we get a better read on this?”

“I’m afraid not.”

The footage splutters, slowing down tremendously. The hairs on the back of Yusaku’s beck begin to prickle, a sense of unease creeping its way through him. The world is teetering, suddenly kicked off its pedestal and sent rolling. He feels its imbalance with a kick to his gut, clutching at his stomach and wincing as a sharp barb of pain hits his mind. The lights in the room flicker, the computer monitors struggling to stay alive, before a sensation of a powerful presence approaches on the leyline of another dimension.

“Cut the power,” Yusaku says in a pained gasp as Shoichi rushes to his side, “cut it now.”

The man nods, hurrying away to pull the switch. The room plunges into darkness and, urged on by the sensation of both curiosity and instinct, Yusaku ignores the pain in his body to stumble outside the hotdog wagon.

Before him, is a world of uncertain surrealism. Den City lies down below the cliffside where he stands, railing separating him from a sharp plunge into the valley of skyscrapers that run underneath. The view is like it always is at dusk: sky blooming with dark colors and the lights of the people challenging the might of the stars. However, creeping into view is a mishmash of scenes, “glitches” which switch between the scenic sight of Den City, and the looming parallels of a world created from virtual data. Yusaku sees bits and pieces of Link VRAINS through the portals of the “glitches”, his pained gaze trained on the pixels that invade into reality.

A roar of a monster captures his attention. Peering into skies made of dripping blue and molten green, Yusaku takes note of a creature flying past overhead. A mysterious beast cloaked in shadows runs over him, its swooping wings carrying a current which knocks Yusaku to his knees. The boy barely has any time to process things as he spins around, his eyes widening as he realizes that, perched upon that hulking shape, is a human figure cloaked in white.

The wings beat down and the beast disappears into the void of a parallel world. Yusaku, catching up to his surprise, releases a breath he didn’t know he held. A bead of sweat drips down the side of his face and, frustrated with it, he swipes it away right as Shoichi manifests from the doorway with the AI in his hands.

“Yusaku!” The man calls. “What happened? What did you see?”

“A monster,” Yusaku says, softly, as if he’s afraid he’ll be heard by the mysterious being who’d vanished from view. “A dragon, one whose form I couldn’t fully see. A man of white was riding upon it.”

“I know that presence,” the AI states. “That was Revolver that you saw. No one else could hold an anger so deep and locate me within near instant the moment I gave off a signal.”

Anger? Yusaku had felt an immense amount of pressure radiating from the man, a burdening sensation which pressed down on Yusaku’s chest like a spear pinning him to the ground. Was that anger that he’d felt? Or, was it something more? The feeling was undescribable - anger didn’t quite cut it. Instead, it seemed like a relentless kind of wrath, a rage so deeply embedded into the man’s being that Yusaku could feel it cut at his heart with a stab.

“You gave off a signal?” Shoichi’s voice, low and dangerous, pulls Yusaku out of his musing.

“N-Not intentionally!” The AI rushes to defend itself, blinking rapidly. “But when you scanned my memories like that, I lost control. My memories are left destroyed for a reason - if they’re put back together, they’ll summon him.”

A pause. Yusaku peers at the eyeball-like creature, his gaze scrutinizing its appearance. It wouldn’t be possible for it to lie - no program had the capability to lie - but if it was designed to deceive, Yusaku would have problems on his hands.

Still, what the AI said made sense. It didn’t seek Revolver’s presence so it would have no need to give give off a signal to lure him straight to it. But, all the pieces of the puzzle didn’t necessarily connect, either.

“If your memories are destroyed, why do you still know what your goal is, whatever that might be?”

The eyeball blinks at him. “It’s the last thing I left to myself before my memories were destroyed. It’s the last hope I have left.”

Shoichi peers at Yusaku, his harsh gaze softening tremendously at the explanation. “Do you at least have a name? Something we can call you by? It’s a bit tiring to talk to you without knowing how to address you.”

“I...I don’t have a name.” The Ai’s voice falters, touched by something that Yusaku can’t get a hold of. “I’ve never bothered to think of it. I mean, I don’t think I do have a name regardless but…”

“Then how about Ai?”

The eyeball fixates on him, exasperation clear in its expression. “As in ‘I’? As in ‘AI’? That’s a dog’s name!”

“And it fits,” Yusaku says. “You’re nothing more than an AI. You have less status than a dog, it’s only fitting.”

The eye makes a blubbering noise. “That’s so mean! Can’t I have a better name? Any name? Literally any will do!”

“How about Deficient Programming then?”

Shoichi chuckles. “Or Eyeball?”

“Or Purple, for the color of the lines on your eye?”

“Nah, Black or Orange would fit better don’t you think?”

“Alright, alright, I get it!” The AI yelps. “You win! Ai it is! Not like I have to be grateful about that or anything!”

“Fair enough,” Shoichi says with a laugh. “Well then, Ai, I think you’ll serve us well.”

The eyeball looks at him. “I will?”

Yusaku nods. “As our hostage, of course.”

“...You’ll just never give that up, will you?” Ai gives a sigh, muttering. “Fine, fine, whatever. Humans are unpredictable, I know that. Well, until I can convince you otherwise, I guess I have no choice.”

Yusaku exchanges a glance with Shoichi and turns to the night sky.

“We’ll need to discuss our route of action soon. If what Ai says is true, Revolver will be making plans to lure me out of hiding, and soon. We must be wary about the steps be take from here on out.”

“Right. We can’t afford to get caught, after all. Not until we know what happened.”

Ai stares at them. “What exactly are you two after anyways? You mentioned something about your pasts but why are you risking your own necks to chase after Hanoi? Are you guys just playing hero or is there something else here?”

“Not anything you need to know about,” Yusaku says with a voice coated in cold.

“And why not?”

“We can’t trust you with that information,” Shoichi shrugs. “Sorry, but we can’t trust a robot with that information.”

“I’m not a robot, I’m a-!”

Ai becomes silenced and, voice now muffled, he glares at the both of them.

“I’m going home,” Yusaku says, retrieving his duel disk and slipping it upon his wrist. “I want to investigate some more into this thing. Call me if something happens.”

“Will do.”

Yusaku takes his leave.

~~~~

The room where his father stands is of a laboratory empty of tools or subjects. Before the man is a series of notes, a list of scripts and messages and other trivial things that Revolver has little time to focus on. Instead, he approaches the man in the labcoat with a nod of his head, golden eyes meeting gold as his father turns to him.

“You’re back early,” Dr. Kogami notes, gaze softening. “What’s wrong? What happened?”

“I caught a signal,” Revolver says. “I located the Ignis and almost pinpointed its location. Obviously, however, I failed to find it.”

“An understandable complication. The Ignis must have slipped. Or, maybe not. If it so recklessly let loose a signal like that, perhaps it’s more crafty than we thought.”

“How so?”

“By sending out its location, it can lure you to the person who imprisoned it. If you chase after it and free the Ignis through a duel, there’s a chance that it’ll use that moment of time to take advantage of both you and Playmaker and escape.”

He narrows his eyes. “I must be wary then.”

“Not only that,” Dr. Kogami peers back at his notes, sifting through them before returning his gaze to Revolver, “but there’s something entirely wrong about this whole situation. I fear things may get worse if we let time slip us by.”

Revolver blinks. “How can the situation be worse than it already is?”

“Think about it. The Ignis got captured. Or, so Playmaker thinks. But, the Ignis is craftier than that. It won't as easily let itself be played for a fool if it can benefit from something.” Dr. Kogami’s eyes glint with something dangerous, a kind of cunning that has Revolver wondering what his father is musing about. “I don’t think this Playmaker realizes what he’s messing with. If he’s not careful, he’ll fall prey to that thing.”

“That’s not our concern.”

“No, indeed. We need to refocus our efforts on his capture. Have you already talked with everyone yet?”

He nods his head. “They’ve agreed to lure Playmaker out of hiding. We’re working on a plan right now but, rest assured, it will be prepared soon.”

Dr. Kogami smiles. “That’s all I can ask for. Thank you, Revolver.”

“Of course.”

A beeping sound chirps from Revolver’s wrist and he holds it up to stare at his duel disk. A line pulses on top of it, zig-zagging up and down into the shape of mountains and valleys.

“I’ll be right there.”

Dr. Kogami’s closes his eyes, dipping his head in gratitude.

“Thank you.”

~~~

In a room surrounded by panes of glass, a boy pries himself from a chair, the shadows of the world cloaking him from the dying sunset outside his mansion. Taking hurried steps, he approaches the bedside of a person with a face obscured. IV drops embed into the ashen skin of the man while a heart monitor sits nearby, echoing a noise that has “Revolver’s” hands scrambling for the dials. He adjusts some settings and, with a reluctant noise, the heart monitor stops its racket.

Bowing his head, the boy clasps onto the person’s hands, baring the six red triangles which paints the skin of his hand. He tightens his grip, his voice softening as he says:

“Hold on, father."

Then, with words swelling full of determination, he makes a declaration:

"I promise you, I’ll fulfill your wish.”

~~~~

As the screen fades to black, Playmaker’s image does not. The sheer sight of him - of a myth, a fable, an urban legend - has the world shaking at his implications. A hero - a hero has finally appeared to challenge the terrorists which run rampant over Link VRAINS! However, the world does not merely fixate on his heroics but, rather, on the flaws and virtues of his actions as well. A superhero, some would praise him, likening him to that of the fictional individuals capable of defeating all evil. A foolish man with his head in the clouds, others would scoff, eager to denote the stupidity of his actions and the reckless sense of justice which seems to guide him.

However, as the rumors spread and myths become reality, Playmaker’s appearance touches not only the hearts of every intrigued individual but, also, the hearts of five kids watching from behind the screen.

A boy as mysterious as a ghost yet lively with the ideals of servitude.

A boy nursing wounds of the past and hiding the bruises behind the misery of his own doubts.

A boy incapable of anything but fear, shrouding himself in the darkest corner of an isolated room with knees drawn to his chest.

A boy purposely ignorant of his past, oblivious to that of which he knows and that of which he fears to know.

A girl uncertain and in disarray, a member of the lost so lost that she doesn’t realize how much of herself she’s come to lose.

Five kids. Five children left to sit in darkness. But, as Playmaker shines on the big screens, something swells in their hearts.

Hope.

Recovery.

Despair.

(The key to their prison is before them.)