Season 0: Theme Keycard #1 C26: No Grave Too Deep (2)

Mazera didn't run—he bled into the darkness. One moment, he was in plain sight, the next, the Herald had already torn open the shadows beneath Lenix’s feet, lunging out like a sentient Curse given form. Barely staying upright, the Duelist hurried through corpse-strewn terrain, just narrowly avoiding the Attacks.

Still grazed, however, Lenix had to Equip Mimic to minimize the DMG to himself.

DE: 26,888.5 » 26,003

'Hm… This isn't working…'

Even Bottled Luck would run out eventually, and if he still couldn’t ground Mazera soon, he’d be forced to rely on something far worse: His own effort. Yucks.

Sliding under a half-collapsed residential building, Lenix snuck into the cracks and crevices as another Attack ripped through where his head had been a moment prior, scorching the wall in his place.

DE: 26,003 » 25,117.5

Lenix clenched his jaw as he slapped at the necrotic burns spreading along his ribs while every touch sent a fresh ripple of pain up his spine. Beside him, Mimicking Man-Eater Bug let out a low, warbling trill—pitiful, maybe, but not exactly useful.

Throwing a glance over his shoulder at the Jujitsu Master, whose arms hadn't moved an inch since the Herald ragdolled him like he was made of tissue, Lenix smirked. “Hate to say it, but I need backup. You in, Teach?”

Without the 'Once Per Turn' rule to hold him back, Mazera was constantly clawing his way out of the Graveyard like a cockroach on and shrugging off his blows.

Meanwhile, Mimic’s excretions were far too slow to make a dent in his momentum.

Lenix needed something… Faster, more precise; something that could finally put a stop to the Spirit's rampage once and for all.

‘Summon me and I’ll show that featherless corpse a real funeral pyre!'

The Blazing Phoenix screeched from deep inside his Deck, desperate to be Summoned, but Lenix silenced her with a mental sigh.

‘Your Effect resets every Summon. It'd be a waste.'

Furthermore, the ability to phase in and out of any shadow—across Domino City, or the entire world, even—through an expendable network of Zombies, all without any Cost or CD beyond DE-Expenditure, was simply too game-breaking for Lenix to pass up.

The convenience alone was worth risking his neck for, never mind how absurdly useful the Alghoul would be in a life-and-death situation.

Sure, it was Zombie-Locked, and sure, the Setup would demand actual time and effort on his part, but if he could bind Mazera instead of Banishing and reducing the Card-Bound to a useless Blank, Lenix'd gain a nigh unstoppable tactical asset, one that'd be more than capable of overturning entire battles in his favor…

And the only way to pull it off was through Effects that returned the target from the Field to the Hand or Deck—Effects which the whole community, in all their infinite wisdom, had lovingly shortened to: Bouncing.

'A chained rabid dog is still a rabid dog, High Priest,' Nephthys cautioned. 'Hatred that deep doesn’t just fade.'

“Be that as it may,” Lenix replied, tone even. “I'm severely outmatched by Skullie. I need anything that might even the odds, even if only by a little bit. If he's too unruly, I can always Fuse him with one of my own like I did you and the Hyppogrif.“

He doubted Nephthys would go for it—she wasn't exactly shy about her distaste for the Undead—but one of the Insects might be up for a power-up.

As expected, 'If you try to Fuse me with that, High Priest—'

“Relax, I'm a fair and just Duelist. You already got a new Form so I'll leave this opportunity to the Insects.“

The Type was severely underpowered anyway… They could certainly use an Upgrade—

'Focus, Disciple.' Veering aside as another Necrotic Slash carved through the air, Lenix clicked his tongue, tossed a quick thanks to the Jujitsu Master, then burst forward, tearing through what little remained of the ruined district with renewed vigor in an effort to stay ahead of the increasingly frustrated Alghoul.

The rubbles wouldn't stop him, but they slowed the Spirit down long enough, which was all Lenix really needed.

"Teach?"

‘I’ll accept under one condition…’

‘Which is?’

‘You must relinquish our Bond afterward. I’ll not be stuck with you.'

Letting loose an amused chortle, Lenix murmured, “Harsh, Teach. Harsh.”

'Do you accept?'

“Do you—” Lenix ducked under a slash, roaring. “Do you even need to ask?!“

'Then from here on forth, your Fate’s mine, and mine yours.'

“For however long our Contract lasts.“ Lenix mused,

Bonded Spirits (Max. 5): Hand of Nephthys (27%), Mimicking Man-Eater Bug (19.9%), Grasschopper (15.1%), Legendary Jujitsu Master (0% • NEW)

Lenix skidded to a halt, shadows flaring at his heels as he turned to face the threat head-on.

The change was almost immediate.

Whereas Mimic alone gave him jagged, chitinous armor, the fusion between the Insect and the Martial Master created something far more refined—streamlined plating layered over muscle-tight synth-fiber, glowing with faint circuits. It looked less like Ryu's Gi, which he half-expected based on the Martial Master's Artwork; more Metal Gear Rising given a pretty decent Eastern overhaul.

It was edgy, it was badass, and Lenix was here for it!

Flames licking off his fists, flaring from red to electric blue, his boots carved holes in the pavement in exchange for more momentum.

DE: 23,506.5 » 22,725.5

'I best hurry.' Supporting Mimic alone was already an immense drain on his Duel Energy; two would leave him empty real quick, and Lenix knew it.

"Alright, corpse-for-brains…" He muttered, gliding past the Attacks. "Let’s see how you like this!“

With a burst of vigor, Lenix launched forward like a missile—fists burning, aura surging, and eyes locked onto his opponent.

Lenix Owens

Attribute: FIRE

Level: 7

[Human/Effect]

Flavor Text:

A rookie Gamer with a knack for trouble, this human has bargained for the chaotic power of Insects, the refined discipline of a Legendary Jujitsu Lineage, and the unpredictability of Plot Armor.

ATK: 2355

DEF: 3005

Alghoul Mazera

Level: 8

[Zombie/Effect]

ATK: 2800

DEF: 2300

Tanking the punch square to the face, Lenix didn’t flinch, even as his DE dropped like a rock. Grinning through the sting, he licked the blood from the corner of his lip, seized Mazera’s arm, and heaved.

The moment the Alghoul realized what was happening, he panicked, dumping every ounce of power he had to try and Self-Destruct before the Effect could take hold.

But the Herald had realized too late.

Launching the Alghoul into the sky like a ragdoll, Lenix slammed all six of fists down onto the Spirit’s gut with a guttural roar.

“Sit!”

In a desperate, last-ditch bid to drag Lenix down with him, the Alghoul lunged—scythe-like claws slashing forward with the force of a guillotine.

They tore through flesh, through Armor, even embedding deep into Lenix’s ribs.

But no matter how deep Mazera clawed, Lenix wouldn’t fall, as every tear in his flesh stitched itself shut, every shattered bone reformed, and every piece of Armor mended as if Time itself had bent to keep him standing.

Effect(s):

Cannot be destroyed by battle.

Then, with a guttural grunt, Lenix twisted in for the knockout punch.

Mazera hit the concrete, cratering half the block as he howled, only to be welcomed by a flaming fist to the jaw.

“gAAamEEErrr—!“ Managing one last growl, the Alghoul's body folded inward like a bad memory until all that remained was the faint glint of a Bound Card face-down in the center of the sinkhole.

Retrieving the card and brushing the dust from its reflective surface, Lenix let out a gleeful coo. “My precious!” He'd kiss the card, but that would be gae.

‘Hmph! What’s so special about that rotting pile of dung anyway?'

As expected, Nephthys was jealous again.

‘You don’t even treat Us with that kind of reverence…’

That was a little less expected. 'What are you two, Desperate Housewives?'

'We don't know what that is, but We don't like the sound of it.'

“Eh, some TV show about married couples cheating on each other every month or so on HBO? My cousin couldn’t get enough of that crap. No idea why. Shit was boring… I'll give it this though: It's got some smoking actresses!”

Chattering excitedly, Lenix looked up just in time to catch a Flame Ghost crashing face-first into the pavement.

Its charred, sinewy body dragged a trail of embers on the asphalt until it finally came to an abrupt halt as thick, dark smoke curled off its limbs.

Lifting one foot, Lenix disappointedly muttered and brought the sole of his shoe down, crushing the Ghost's head to as warm paste, “It has such a cool design. A shame it's a fodder.“ And then another splattered on the pavement next to him. “Holy shit, it's raining Zombies.“

Takimaru must be going to town on the Undead.

“I was wondering where the stragglers (Level 1-4) were.“

Just three blocks away, the school delinquent had collapsed—shielded by a hulking beast clad in layers of razor-edged plates made from rock, dirt, and even man-made debris. Eyes brimming with murderous intent, the Earthen Dragon growled, then chomped down on the approaching Zombies.

A short distance away, Jinzo blew the last of the horde to bits before locking eyes with the Monster.

Megarock Dragon

Attribute: EARTH

Level: 7

[Rock/Effect]

Effect(s):

● This card cannot be Normal Summoned or Set. This card cannot be Special Summoned except by removing from play a Rock-Type monster(s) in your Graveyard.

● The original ATK and DEF of this card become the number of Rock-Type monsters you removed from play when you Special Summoned this card x 700.

ATK: 0 » 3500

DEF: 0 » 3500

Lenix had half a mind to let the Android get slapped around a bit, then swoop at the last second to farm Loyalty Rating, alas…

[Continuous Spell: Felix Felicis – EXPIRED]

“It’s about time.“ While the high had dulled, everything still looked extremely oversaturated to him. “Strange.“

Hopping in front of the Dragon, Lenix threw up the universal sign for surrender and yelled, “Hey, hey! I’m a friend of his!”

Still on guard, Megarock Dragon curled its tail protectively around its unconscious Duelist while Lenix explained. “You gotta De-Summon yourself! You’re draining his DE!”

Pale face, sweaty forehead—textbook DE-Depletion. Lenix had numbers and Vorona to stop him before his Summons started eating permanent parts od his Ba. The same couldn't be said for the delinquent.

“Just give him a look! You'll find I'm telling the truth!“

The Dragon did exactly that, then nudged the kid like it just realized he wasn’t waking up anytime soon.

“See?!“ Cooing softly, it lay down, shot Lenix a final threatening glare, then dissolved in a stream of brown light which entered its card. Scooping up the cards—including the Bound-Zombies the Jujitsu Master had knocked flat—Lenix slung his self-proclaimed rival over his shoulder, wiping a few beads with his sleeve.

‘You’re being too rough…’

Rolling his eyes, Lenix muttered, “If you wanna princess-carry him, Teach, be my guest.”

'Hmmm…'

“That's what I thought.“

Pulling up the map, Lenix tapped in Grandpa Mutou’s address, gave the area a quick scan, and froze when he spotted an Audi.

Scooters and motorcycles were more his thing due to the freedom, but damn, that shit looked slick. “Jinzo, you know how to hotwire a car?”

“An easy matter, Contractor.”

Electricity crackled from his fingertip the moment it touched the ignition, frying every security measure in under a second.

“Huh… Neat.” Looking up just in time to spot the helicopter whirring overhead, Lenix waved at the camera crew with a grin and entered the passenger seat. “Take the wheel. I gotta check something real quick.”

Jinzo slid into the driver’s seat, stared at the confusing mess of pedals, levers, and lights—then muttered sheepishly. “I, uhm, I don’t know how to drive…”

“Eh?”

— [SK(GX)] —

“—Ladies and gentlemen, the Prime Minister has just issued an official statement.“

The screen flickered, cutting to the image of the graying-haired man.

Just yesterday, his hair had still been black.

Now, it looked like he’d aged twenty years in the span of hours.

“—To the people of our great nation… I know you’re afraid, I know you are uncertain, but I urge you to remain firm in these trying times.

To those trapped within Domino City, and to the families awaiting word—know this: The National Defense Forces have been fully mobilized.

Emergency protocols are in full-swing, and Allied units across the Pacific have pledged immediate support. You are not alone. This is a crisis, but like every disaster before, WE WILL ENDURE. WE WILL REBUILD. Together we—”

“Urgh.”

Hiroshi had spent decades swimming through the sewage of politics, and if he had ever heard a pre-chewed, PR-regurgitated speech, it was that particular one.

The cadence, the buzzwords, the hollow optimism? Probably all came straight off a teleprompter. He rubbed his eyes with a tired groan, glancing at his subordinates—most of them misty-eyed, some practically glowing.

"That's good, right?! That means we're gonna be okay!" One of them beamed.

Hiroshi exhaled through his nose, lips tightening.

“Sure,” The retired CEO muttered.

He had half a mind to tell them the truth—that help wasn’t coming.

That between the red tape, the time it would take to mobilize any serious force, and the fact that no one had the faintest clue how to breach the energy wall, they'd be lucky if the 'cavalry' were to show up in time to find their still warm corpses.

But looking around at their faces—so desperate to believe in something—he bit his tongue.

They didn’t need the harsh truth right now, but they were in dire need of hope, even if it stemmed from a white lie.

“—We have just received word—certain survivors inside Domino City have managed to upload footage detailing how to survive!“

“—Can we get a livestream—?” The second anchor leaned in, voice hushed.

“—No. Connection’s a mess. Whatever that forcefield is, it’s interfering with signals coming out.”

After some quick back-and-forth, both anchors adjusted their earpieces and turned to face the camera again.

“—We’ve compiled what we could. Here’s some of the footage.”

The screen flickered once more for a few grainy, choppy seconds... Then cleared just long enough to reveal the blood-smeared, grinning face of—”Owens?“ Hiroshi practically leaped from his seat at the face.

"—One, two. One, two. Is this on? Oh, it's on? 'Kay. To all survivors in Domino City—to every person still breathing—if you are watching this and you want to stay breathing, listen up. Find a Duel Disk, and grab a Deck while you're at it. You're gonna need both.

Yes, Magic is real.“

Unbelievable as it might seem, many gasped at the casual admittance.

““All that Shadow Duel crap conspiracy theorists are constantly spewing? It’s real too. Domino’s been turned into one giant altar, and guess what? You’re the sacrifices.”

Somewhere in a candlelit basement, someone suddenly stopped shuffling their Deck mid-riffle; a lanky teen with spiky blue hair and the kind of face that made teenage girls lose their damn minds. Behind him, the faint silhouette of a three-headed Cyber End Dragon flickered into view as he threw open the retractable gate hiding him from the Dead.

“—I won't sugar it: You’ll probably die.

I’ll probably die too, but if you play your cards right, your end could be a bit more heroic than others’.

Shit, you might even make it out with two to three limbs intact if you got really lucky; so arm yourself, tuck in those bootstraps, and begin Dueling.“

A teenage girl tending to a broken Duel Disk in a stairwell laughed—short, sharp, tired and yet full of sass. “How very awe-inspiring…”

“—Now, couple of things you’ll wanna keep in mind—some mechanics work different out here.”

The survivors all collectively leaned in.

This was the part that most mattered.

“—There’s no ‘Once Per Turn’ restriction, no chain limits. Everything—Spells, Effects, whatever—runs off Duel Energy now. Tributes and GY Banishment costs still work the same.“

A few Duelists silently glanced at their Life Counter which, instead of the usual 4000 or 8000 LP, “So that’s why my LP dropped by half just Summoning…”

“—You can even Equip Spells to yourself. Do it. It will drain your Energy fast, but that tiny boost to your ATK and DEF could mean the differences between life-n'-death if the Undead managed to get past your Spirits. And for the people who want to cheat Death with Monster Reborn or Call of the Haunted, be sure to keep your body relatively intact, or it won't work. I tried.“

“Equip Spells work on people too?!“

“—Once you’ve found some cover and gotten your bearings, access the chatgroup in the description. The connection is as stable as I can make it, and it also has a real-time map on the concentration and direction of the Hordes.”

Immediately, thousands of phones lit up across the dark corners of Domino City—each screen showing the same thing: A map covered in red.

“—The more numerous the red dots, the larger the hordes; the deeper the colors, the more powerful the Undead.“

Over in the Eastern District, several Duelists exhaled in exasperation. “Fuck… Is there ANYWHERE not screwed?“

“—Avoid those areas at all costs, especially the big ones in the 8 Directions.

As far as I can tell, the Zombies don’t spread the disease—not directly at least—but their bites and scratches will cause a fatal infection within hours if not treated properly.“

An older man checked the bite-mark on his arm, then looked away as black veins crept toward his fingertips, curling up to his bicep and shoulder. Stepping toward the barricade, he peered through the narrow crack in the wood.

His fate was sealed, but maybe his death could still buy someone else a few more minutes.

“—For now…”

Interrupted mid-sentence by ghoulish moans, Lenix paused at the sight of the horde stumbling close into the rearview mirror. “—Ooh, you guys are in luck! You get to see Yours Truly in action.“

Exiting the Audi, Duel Disk already humming to life as Mimic wrapped around his arm, threading light into synthetic-fibers. The viewers watched as he practically skipped toward the horde without a care in the world, as if this was just another drunken bar fight he couldn’t wait to start.

Blood splattered across the back windshield in thick blobs a moment later.

Then a body was hurled into the glass hard enough to crack it, sliding down in a twitching heap.

“—NOOOOO! My Audi!!! God, why do bad things happen to good people?!!”

“Is that really what you should be worried about?!” In Domino Hospital, Jonouchi snapped, exasperated, just as another corpse slammed into the side of the car with a metallic crunch, rocking the whole frame while muffled snarls bled into the mic, followed by an abrupt and uneasy silence.

Then, the door flung open.

“—God fucking damn it, do you know how expensive those repairs are gonna be?!“

Hissed Lenix, grabbing the camera and swiping bloody chunks off his face as he continued with an irritated sigh.

“—For now, try your best to survive.

Share tips in the chatgroup—I’ve already started a Rulebook list, but I probably missed some things.

In the meantime, those who can fight should form groups of four or five to start reclaiming territory so we can trade and gather supplies more efficiently. Just don’t all converge in one spot.

Yeah, yeah, I know—strength in numbers and all—but big crowds make big targets. Smaller squads and scattered Safe Zones will spread the horde thinner, make their assaults easier to repel, and give people who can’t fight a closer place to run to… Or don’t. I’m not your dad. Do whatever feels right to you.“

More and more groans began to fill the audio as the Undead stumbled into view.

“—Now, if you’ll excuse the shit outta me, I’ve gotta find somewhere safe to crash for the night. Good night. Good luck… We're all gonna need it.“

Leaning back in his leather-clad chair, Hiroshi grimaced. “Is this a recent broadcast?”

“N-No, boss. It was uploaded about an hour and a half ago. Sacred Light’s posted five more since—each breaking down different rules and weaknesses to the Undead with visuals. Lots of visuals.”

“Sacred Light?”

“His username on MySpace, sir.”

Massaging his eyelids, Hiroshi’s expression twisted.

Without another word, he bolted from the office, footsteps heavy as he made a beeline for his daughter’s room.

“BOSS?!”

But just as he feared, Sachi Fujita was nowhere to be found.

“Dammit!“

Her bed was made, her clothes strewn across the bed, but her Duel Disk was missing.

Frozen at the doorway, Hiroshi cracked the doorframe as his knuckle turned whire. All he ever asked of her—just once, just this once—was to listen to him.

“Stay inside,” He’d said. “Don’t play hero.”

But of course she hadn’t listened.

She never did.

“Sachi, you're so grounded!”

The retired CEO growled angrily, but even a blind, deaf man could’ve made out the worry buried beneath all that frustration.

“S-Sir, maybe she’s hanging close by?”

“No… I know her. She’s probably out searching for her boyfriend and—” A sharp headache made Hiroshi wince, eyes squeezing shut as a familiar face surged through his mind.

“Sir?”

“I’m fine… Do we have any Duelists available?”

“Not to my knowledge. Ours is currently the largest safehouse. Most of our personnel are either standing guard, culling the Undead or out scavenging for supplies and survivors.”

He could reroute a portion of the guards to track down his daughter, but was he really willing to gamble the safety of everyone in the hospital for one stubborn teenager? Biting on his nail, Hiroshi shakily readjusted his glasses and instructed. “Just tell our people to keep an eye out for her.”

He hadn’t wanted to do this, but things had gotten too out of hands.

Tightening his jaw and steeling his nerves, the CEO dialed the boy’s number.

If anyone could talk some damn sense into Sachi and drag her back, it would be Owens. “—Owens speaking!“

Licking his dry lips, the retired CEO finally managed to swallow his pride and introduced himself. “This is Hiroshi, I'm calling regarding Sachi…”

— [SK(GX)] —

Staring down at the ruined city, Hayato hummed thoughtfully. He couldn’t remember how many times he’d perished in the Gutter, or how many lives he’d taken to get where he was—all for a shot at Godhood.

If someone were to ask him if he regretted it, he’d probably just snort dismissively.

Regret? That was a concept he’d abandoned long ago. There was no room for conscience, sentiment, regret, or hesitation on the Path to Ultimate Power.

That was a rule every Gamer had to come to terms with—a shame it'd taken him over 500 Game-Overs to learn it.

Besides, these NPCs hadn’t hesitated to kill him—why should he give a damn about their lives?

Palming the Cross necklace tied around his wrist, Hayato masked his face just as another figure joined him—a man nearly twice his size, with long, black hair cascading all the way to his lower back and muscles so large, they'd fit right in on a comic book Superhero… Or Villain.

Like every other Named Character, Kagemaru put up one hell of a fight at first—typical boss battle theatrics. Honestly, for someone who barely cleared mid-tier villain status, the guy’s Deck was way more irritating than it had any right to be.

Stalling, burn, recursion—it was like Dueling a cockroach with a God complex.

“Master…”

“How’s the Sphere?”

“With the Souls we’ve collected, it won’t be long. The Hōgyoku’s nearing its Final Evolution—but without the Souls of strong Duelists, I fear…”

“The Soul of strong Duelistz… Heh, don’t we have one right here?”

Kagemaru stiffened, his eyes slowly rising to meet his Master’s. For a moment, something cold coiled in his gut—a creeping dread that slithered and pooled infinitely in the brief span as the Wielder of the Sacred Beasts began to plead. “Master, mercy—”

He didn’t get to finish…

One clean swing—that was all it took for his skull, strengthened by the Sacred Beasts themselves, to cave in, bursting apart like a dropped watermelon. “Treacherous bastard.“

Despite his daily theatrics, Kagemaru had been quietly biding his time, just waiting for the right moment to steal the Collapsing Sphere from under his nose.

He had gambled on Skullie's youth and perceived inexperience, but like all gamblers, when the house decided to call the bluff, he had to pay the price.

Hovering above the warm corpse, the Sacred Beasts exploded into existence, shrieking in fury.

But their outrage didn’t last.

The moment his Conqueror’s Haki washed over them, their rage quickly curdled into panic they dropped to their knees like whimpering mutts before vanishing entirely. “Pathetic.“

Without a word, Skullie gathered their cards from the floor, tore them in half, and flicked the scraps into the condensing Collapsing Sphere.

Who would've thought Urahara's little invention would be this starved for Souls and Spirits?

Had he access to Shinigami or Hollows, he probably would've completed it ages ago, but for now, Duelists would have to do, at least until he figured out how to open a Door to the Multiverse at large.

“A bunch of flawed prototypes thinking they’re Divine? Know your goddamn place.“ Skullie scoffed, black robes fluttering in the wind like smoke in a breeze.

To be fair, he hadn’t planned to wipe out everyone in Domino City—at least, not at first, but the quota was still thousands of Souls short, and he doubted the universe would hand him another golden opportunity like this. Ironic, considering Pegasus had put all this in motion in hope of taking him down.

Cute plan. Poor execution, though.

He should have known better…

He should've known that even if it takes hundreds or thousands of redos; Hayato always wins, eventually.

Raising his arms high, he welcomed the rising crescendo of groans and shrieks with open arms, letting it wash over him like a chorus of agony.

“By my Decree… Go. Go forth now, and fetch me their Souls.“