Season 0: Theme Keycard #1 C25: No Grave Too Deep (1)

Magic always took something in return—usually from the caster’s Ba, that little spark of Soul your parents told you not to mess with. But, like people, not all Spells were born equal. Some were weak, some strong.

Some ran on a recoverable trickle of DE, while others demanded Blood. Flesh. Sacrifices.

And when a Spell demanded more than one's Ba could give…

Well, there's a reason Blood Rituals existed.

The rule was simple enough: The better the Spell, the higher the price.

If you wanted to move mountains, you'd have to surrender an arm.

Oh, you just wanted knowledge? Well, those eyeballs are looking mighty expendable right now.

Faced with this brutal economy, the old Magicians did what humans always do when backed into a corner—they got clever.

They started sharing the burden in groups, offloading it onto Artifacts—cough, Millennium Items, cough—and even nerfing their own Spells and Spirits by baking in artificial Costs. Trade a limb instead of your life. Shave off a piece of memory rather than your entire sanity, and guess what? It worked like a charm.

Suddenly, they didn’t need to torch villages, chuck virgins into volcanoes, or chug blood off a still-warm altar to pull off Miracles.

And so, a new Age rose, reigning for millennias until the very Magic all Magicals depended on began to wither and die.

Still, for all that the world had changed, one fact remains a constant: Magic taketh, as much as it giveth.

And this rule? It wasn’t confined to Duel Monsters. It echoed through other Worlds too—other Universes. Harry Potter included…

Lenix should’ve known better than to underestimate Magic, but it's too late to turn back now. Backhanding a Zombie aside, he willed Vorona to spear through its skull, then sliced its cranium clean while kicking the jaw off a lumbering Skeleton.

Like all the 'good stuff,' Felix Felicis came at a price, chief among them being the Bottled Spell’s tendency to completely fry the drinker’s prefrontal cortex, subsequently scorching their impulse control.

That’s why its description read: If you could Attack, you must. In the real world? That translated to a high unlike anything Lenix had ever felt. It was intoxicating—so potent that even though he knew he wasn’t invincible, he just couldn’t bring himself to care.

Laughing as he tore through the Undead, the ‘High Priest’ dove back into the horde—barely dodging, hardly blocking—yet somehow was always able to walk away with nothing worse than a few scrapes. And the craziest part? He hadn’t Equipped a single Monster. This was all the Potion.

Somehow, some way, no matter how cornered, outmatched, or overwhelmed he appeared, something always happened to keep him alive.

Sometimes it came as a random gust knocking over a potted plant which just so happened to fall ontop of a Zombie mid-lunge.

Other times, they’d trip over their own feet trying to reach him, despite walking perfectly fine mere seconds ago.

Bottled Luck hadn't made him invincible, though it sure felt like it at times.

It didn’t even have much to do with Luck in truth; instead nudging reality ever so slightly, just enough to tip the scales in his favor.

But that's the trap—the more it bailed him out, the less he cared about surviving, which formed a vicious loop of near-death and narrow escapes that directly fed his artificially-inflated ego. And worst of all?

There didn't seem to be a damn thing [Gamer’s Mind] was doing to stop the Bottled Luck's little riot through his neurons.

As of now, he hadn’t dipped too far in his DE yet, but the constant fighting was beginning to catch up to him on all fronts. And yet, every time he thought to pull back, a voice in his head—his own, traitorous and too damn eager—would whisper without fail, “One more. Just one more. Then I’m done.“

'That's probably not a good thing, right?'

It didn’t help that the Spirits were constantly egging him on like a pack of drunken sports fans either.

“Jinzo!”

From above, the former Duel Spirit—now a Human Mage who looked identical to his Contractor’s mirror image, minus the inverted colors scheme—raised his fist, before hurling an orb of electricity that instantly vaporized three Zombies off the 'board.'

Jinzo

Attribute: DARK

Level: 6

[Machine/Human/Effect]

ATK: 2400

DEF: 1500

Jinzo wasn’t like Archfiend Emperor, or Nephthys, or most of the Monsters in Lenix’s arsenal.

He wasn’t strong, nor was he particularly fast, either.

But that just meant most of his ATK had been funneled into his Psychic Power, specifically, his capacity to manipulate and generate electricity which was on par with a nuclear reactor, ability that the Android readily made use of to blow off heads and limbs with no more than a spark or a touch.

And that wasn’t even the half of it.

Being resurrected as a human—of sorts—meant he was no longer strictly bound by the ‘Costs’ of his original Monster Effect.

Lowering himself, red lenses flaring and air filter crackling with static, Jinzo let out a distorted roar as he unleashed a surge of electricity that didn’t just paralyze nearby Monsters—it fried their abilities outright, short-circuiting Effects mid-activation and leaving them wide open to Lenix as he swept through the stunned horde with Vorona—now shaped into a set of jagged gauntlets wrapped around all six of his arms. Gauntlets that could transform at a mere thought.

“Grrr—!“

Raising his fist, he directed, and Vorona followed, spearing the Skeleton's helmeted skull, allowing Mimic's poison to do its thing and corroded the bone until its Phylactery—a blackened, crystalized brain melted away.

[Select: Change this card's Type to the destroyed Monster's original Type?]

Lenix rejected the proposal without hesitation.

Sure, immunity to Zombie-Type effects sounded nice—but for what? What good would it do when reality itself was already bending over backwards for him?

Wasting DE on such a weak Monster felt stupid.

And let’s be honest—he was way too handsome to rot.

Turning the corner, Lenix launched forward—and barely pulled a punch when he locked eyes with Takimaru.

Clothes torn and bloodstained, face pale and slick with sweat—his self-proclaimed rival looked like he had been through hell and back, but he was still human.

[Observe] had confirmed it.

“LENIX! RUN!!!"

“Run? Like Hell I will! Take care of the stragglers for me!“

Behind him, another, even larger horde roared in pursuit—led by a Monster unlike any other.

A Giant, whose eyes burned with hunger at the sight of humans;

An 'Angel' whose Wings had been clipped by the same Necromantic Arts which brought him back to Unlife;

Whose very flesh had become putrid, dessecrated—a mockery of what he once was.

Alghoul Mazera

Attribute: DARK

Level: 8

[Zombie/Effect]

Effect(s):

● If a Zombie monster(s) you control would be destroyed by battle or card effect, you can banish this card from your hand or GY instead.

● If this card is banished from the hand or GY: You can Special Summon this card in Defense Position, then you can reduce its Level by 1. You can only use each effect of "Alghoul Mazera" once per turn.

ATK: 2800

DEF: 2300

Whatever intelligence and sophistication his righteous-self once bore had been utterly decimated by a bottomless urge to tear into fresh flesh, and a near-instinctive hatred for his 'Master' who had defiled him into this state… A hate that had even spilt into human population in general. And since he could not battle the Necromancer, as per the Pact, that left only one target: Other humans.

With a howl that instantly threw the Level 4 Zombies into a frenzy, the former Herald of Heaven raised a decayed arm and pointed, commanding his lesser undead to bring forth the walking offerings. But then, he paused—head tilted in visible confusion—as the newly discovered human leapt straight into the heart of his legion with a wicked grin, bloodthirsty grin.

Even his fellow human looked completely bewildered by the move, but the black-haired, six-armed animal didn’t seem to notice, or care. He just giggled, gleeful and unhinged, as he tore through the reanimated corpses like a kid let loose in a candy store.

Watching from the heart of the storm, the real threat snarled.

The Alghoul had faced many foes since his arrival—he’d butchered humans by the heap, heroes and villains alike, using his Effect to blink between pockets of survivors and tear them apart when they least suspected, turning their moments of triumph into bloodbaths that would scar their very Souls.

Yet, he hadn’t seen anything quite like that human before.

Not even Spirits fought with that kind of... Zeal. Not even he.

The human wasn’t fast, nor strong—but every time Death crept close, something would happen to spare him its frigid grip.

Most Spirits wouldn’t have noticed, but even as tarnished as he was, the Fallen Herald still retained cognitive ability to catch onto the subtle warping of reality taking place. Then, the pavement suddenly gave way beneath the human’s feet, sending him stumbling forward—an opening that should have sealed his fate. Instead, it saved him from a wild swing that'd have lopped his head off.

Then, the wall suddenly collapsed, but once again, it played right into the human’s favor, burying a half-torso trying to take a bite out of the human's toes beneath the rubble.

Alghoul Mazera narrowed his rotted, glowing eyes, violet tendrils rising from his purple flesh as his fingers curled around the handle of his sabre.

That human was wrong.

Wrong in the way parasites burrow beneath skin.

Wrong in the way cursed items whisper.

Wrong in a way that made even the Undead hesitate.

And then he saw it.

Not what it was, but instead the absence.

This human had no Fate.

No threads. No ties. No destiny.

Just static.

Much like his now 'Master'—the Necromancer who’d torn his Spirit from the Ether and shackled it to his will; the wretched one whom the Herald had Titled the Great Defiler.

And then, pathetic as it might appear, Mazera’s withered soul recoiled at the realization that not one, but two Anathemas now roamed free in the Realm of Man.

His spine creaked. Shoulders squared as something; something old and angry stirred within the corpse. Then, with great effort—rancid throat straining against rigor mortis—the Zombified Herald uttered: “Gamerr…”

Flesh alone wouldn’t suffice.

Mazera wanted to gnaw on his shrieking Soul.

“GAMERRR—!“

Activating his Effect, the Zombie sank into his own shadow—re-emerging just in time to shield a Skull Servant. The skeletal minion hadn’t even registered the mercy before the infected Herald hoisted it by the head and grinded its skull to fine dust, then dropped the rest.

Stepping through the settling remains, he glared at the Lesser Undead, next the 'parasite' who shot back with a cocky smirk.

“Alghoul Mazera… Man, you look even cooler in person! Wait, do you prefer Mazera or Zeradias instead?“

“Lenix, what are you doing?! Now’s not the time to screw around!”

Takimaru’s voice hit like a slap, but Lenix barely flinched.

Not because he was feeling particularly brave or noble; he was just too damn buzzed to care.

Grin widening, Lenix ducked under a rusted halberd and headbutted its wielder hard enough to snap the vertebrae keeping its skull attached. He would've done the Zombie in himself had Mazera not intervened, not by Attacking him, or fishing the Level 4 Zombie out of harm's way, but by stomping on it like it's a bothersome fly.

“Ooh, killing your own men? You're cold as ice, Herald. I am shaking in my boots.“

“GAMERRR—!!!“

“That the only thing you can speak, you brainless mutt?“ Behind them, Takimaru shrieked, before Summoning the Legendary Jijutsu Master and the Giant Rat to engage the 'stragglers'.

Legendary Jujitsu Master

Attribute: EARTH

Level: 4

[Rock/Effect]

Effect(s):

● If this Defense Position card battled a monster, at the end of the Damage Step: Place that monster on the top of the Deck.

ATK: 1300

DEF: 1800

While far from the most powerful Monster, the Master—and Rock-Types in general—were basically hard-counters to Zombies, whose Effects more often than not required or relied on Destruction to trigger.

Giant Rat

Attribute: EARTH

Level: 4

[Rock/Effect]

Effect(s):

● When this card is destroyed by battle and sent to the Graveyard: You can Special Summon 1 EARTH monster with 1500 or less ATK from your Deck, in Attack Position.

ATK: 1400

DEF: 1450

Not to be outdone by the Master—whose gentle strikes reduced the Zombies to scattered, harmless cards—Giant Rat barreled into the fray, sniffing hungrily as it tore into the Undead without a hint of fear… Right up until a decayed fist caved in its skull. “NOW, ROCK SPIRIT!“

By Banishing an EARTH Monster from the GY—Giant Rat specifically—Takimaru summoned his Level 4 Rock Warrior: a hulking colossus clad in battered steel and crimson leather that pulsed faintly with energy.

A plume of red crowned his helmet, swaying with each thunderous step as he bisected a Zombie clean in two.

The Rock Spirit

Attribute: EARTH

Level: 4

[Rock/Effect]

Effect(s):

● This card cannot be Normal Summoned or Set. This card can only be Special Summoned by removing from play 1 EARTH monster in your Graveyard.

● Increase the ATK of this monster by 300 points during your opponent's Battle Phase.

With three Monster Zones left, Takimaru decided to Summon three copies of Stone Statue of the Aztecs. Crashing down from the Heavens, the moss-colored Titans—each shaped like an ancient warrior hunched in perpetual readiness—surrounded Takimaru on all sides, funneling the Undead into the waiting arms of his Rock Spirit and the Jujitsu Master.

Stone Statue of the Aztecs

Attribute: EARTH

Level: 4

[Rock/Effect]

Effect(s):

● Double any Battle Damage your opponent takes when they attack this monster.

ATK: 300

DEF: 2000

“You better know what you're doing, Lenix!“

Meanwhile, “So… Are we gonna fight? Or are you just gonna keep staring at me?“

That was the final straw. Roaring in a fit of rage, the Alghoul raised his blade overhead and attempted to cleave at Lenix from head to crotch—keyword being attempted—because the ground beneath him suddenly gave way at the last second, causing the strike to stray just inches shy of its mark.

Unlike the Level 4s and below who'd been flattened by Felix Felicis earlier, Mazera had no such problem. Narrowly slipping past the Mimic-enhanced uppercut, the former Herald countered with a punch of his own, which Lenix met head-on.

The collision shattered his forearm into a mangled, bloody mess… Only for it to knit itself back together in less than a second later as the two came to over a dozen blows.

“GAMEERRR—!“

“Is that the only word you're capable of? And to think you were once such an Angel…” Lenix taunted, brushing his messy black hair back with a lazy flick, green half-lidded eyes oozing with amusement in a way that made him quite punchable. “How the Mighty have fallen.”

Fifty strikes followed, each one unleashing purple energy waves that obliterated the block behind them, yet none struck true as Lenix shrank to a thin line, constricting around the Zombie’s neck and pumping Mimicking Man-Eater Bug's Venom straight into his artillery.

With a manic howl, Mazera drove his blade into his own throat, severing the flesh and freeing himself through self-destruction—just in time to stop Mimic's second Effect from Activating. Then, he rose again, right next to Takimaru's Rock Spirit, whom he picked up by the leg and slammed into the ground.

The Spirit's torso exploded in an instant, his blood and organs splattering across the ground in a thick crimson wash as his gaze snapped to Takimaru, then the Jujitsu Master. Zeradias would’ve never taken the bait, but Mazera didn’t have any such qualm.

By all rights, he should’ve been nothing more than another discarded card by now. But instead of clashing with the Spirit head-on, Mazera simply hurled his blade at the Martial Master with lethal intent.

The Jujitsu Master managed to redirect it with a graceful motion—fluid, precise, almost effortless. For a heartbeat, it looked like he’d pulled it off. Then the blade, or rather the force behind it, severed both his hands at the wrists in a spurt of blood.

Alghoul Mazera

ATK: 2800 » 2500

Without his sabre, the Alghoul’s ATK dropped sharply, but even then, he was still the strongest Monster within a three-mile radius, and he damn well knew it. With a sneer, he grabbed a nearby Zombie and used it as a living projectile against the Jujutsu Master, intent on finishing the job. Lenix tried to stop it, sadly, not even Bottled Luck—the good brew—had its limitations, let alone the Lesser Potion he received from the Gacha.

For a moment, Lenix genuinely questioned if all this chaos was worth the headache, but the opportunity to Activate Mimic’s Effect and gain 2800 ATK and a total Immunity to Zombie-Type Effects was too tempting to pass up and thus, “Take on someone your own size!“

His scream yanked Mazera’s attention like a hook to the jaw. Head making a full 180°, the Zombified Herald did not forget to drive a boot into the face of one of the Aztec Statues and end the Rock-Type on the spot, before entering a desperate clash that, obviously, ended in the Alghoul's victory.

Then again, Lenix never intended to come out victorious; he simply couldn't even with his 505 and Mimic's 450 ATK.

All he meant to do was nick the Alghoul and allow Mimic’s Venom to do the rest.

But Mazera must’ve caught on, because without so much as a growl, the Alghoul rested his fingers on his temples and pulped his own head.

“Now that’s just fucked up.”

— [SK(GX)] —

“Uh…”

One hand clamped over the hem of her skirt to shield the view below, the other bracing against the jagged ledge, Sachi hurriedly hauled herself up and over the crumbling wall with a breathless grunt. Her landing was far from graceful—more of a stumble with intent—but she stuck it, albeit barely.

Boots scraping against loose stone as she righted herself, Sachi brushed the dust off her jacket with a small, flustered huff, muttering something that barely qualified as a obscenity under her breath. Then her golden eyes lifted, and immediately slammed shut.

A dozen Undead, maybe more, loitered just beyond the crumbled hospital wall, their milky gazes drifting in her direction.

One even tilted its head in… Recognition?

Her lips thinned as she forced a smile.

Not a confident one. Not even a hopeful one, the kind you give when you walk into the wrong classroom and realize too late you’re not supposed to be there.

This should’ve been it.

Her cue to scream, run, or freeze up completely.

Sachi did none of those things. She could; Gods knew she wanted to, but she didn't, and as expected, after naught but a few glances, the Undead resumed their mindless shamblings, much like when the Outbreak first hit; when the hospital got breached and everybody in their wing got turned into flesh-colored soup.

By some miracles, Sachi and her parents were just skipped.

The Monsters moved around them. Past them. Yet never into them.

It's like they weren’t even there.

And it hadn’t just happened once. It kept happening. But even so, standing in plain sight; half a foot from things that should be sprinting toward her like rabid animals—Sachi still felt a crawling doubt slink up her spine.

What if it stopped working?

What if that wasn’t a gift, but a coincident? Or a cruel ploy?

'What if they Attack?'

And then, the closest one shuffled a step forward, causing her to stiffen, before turning away, its jaw slack; its expression vacant. Sachi blinked as her hand slowly relaxed around the strap of her bag.

“Okay…” The girl whispered to herself, shivering all the while, though whether from excitement or panic was anyone’s guess. “Still invisible. Cool. Love that.”

Step by step, Sachi began to edge away from the hospital wall, boots grazing against the ground with just enough pressure to keep her balanced but not enough to make a noise as her golden eyes darted between the Undead and the open street ahead.

“Don’t look at me, don’t look at me…” She mumbled, hugging the edge of the rubble-strewn courtyard like a cat sneaking past a room full of sleeping dogs.

One of the Zombies twitched, and her breath hitched in preparation, but nothing happened. The Monster didn't even look at her for more than a second, before quickly losing interest.

Ten more feet.

Then twenty.

Slowly but surely, the horde began to thin out like the last scattered leaves of winter, and just when she hit the final stretch, a rock skittered beneath her heel.

Instantly, every decaying head and empty eye socket within earshot snapped in her direction.

“—NOPE!”

Sachi bolted, tearing down the cracked pavement like a comet trail.

She didn’t look back.

She didn’t want to—half-expecting to see a blood-slicked mouth lunging at her fluttering white hair while her legs carried her away until the low, unintelligent moans began to fade into the background.

Only after cutting through two blocks and ducking into a narrow alleyway choked with ivy and old trash bins, did she stop. Bent forward, hands braced on her knees, Sachi gulped down air in ragged pulls, eyes flicking left to right for any sign of the shamblers and finding nothing.

Just her, the shadows, and the sound of her own heartbeat trying to punch its way out of her ribs.

Until another joined it. “You… What are you? How did you do that?”

Startled, Sachi jumped like a deer in headlights, a sharp gasp catching in her throat. Then, tears welled.

She’d only been outside for minutes, and already she missed people. Real people. Breathing, talking, alive. The Undead, while oddly calm, didn’t exactly make for great company.

“Thank Go—”

She stumbled forward, legs suddenly weak from the sprint and adrenaline, but the woman in front of her didn’t seem to share her relief; Duel Disk snapping up like a blade.

“Don’t come any closer! In fact, kneel!” The woman barked, voice as cutting as broken glass. “I’ll take you into custody. I’m sure the fine people of Domino Hospital will be thrilled to hear the daughter of their great leader just so happens to be invisible to the horde.”

Sachi gaped, before settling into a frown as the tears dried up all at once. “... That’s not fair.”

“No.” The woman hissed venomously, fingers twitching near her deck. “What’s not fair is losing my friends, my family while you walked out without a scratch.

What’s unfair is being forced to scavenge for supplies and search for survive in the middle of a goddamn apocalypse while you—you—could have done that without risk this entire time!“

Backing away out of fright, Sachi dropped her gaze and whispered. “We don't know why the Undead won't attack us… They just don't, I swear.”

“We?!” The woman snapped, fury boiling over. “So that bastard Hiroshi and his wife could do it too? And he still sent us to our deaths?!! I'm going to bleed you like a pig, you little bitch—I'll cut pieces off you and send it to your bitch of a father!“

Sachi's back crashed against the concrete wall as the crazed woman seized her by the throat.

“We-We weren't sure!” Sachi rasped, hands clawing weakly at the woman’s wrist trying to break free. “Let go-o of me!“

“Fuck. You! Die, you bitch.“

“Fuck you! Die, you bitch!”

“I—I said let go!” Panic spiked in Sachi's voice as she finally snapped, elbowing the woman's grip loose before lashing out with a desperate kick to the stomach. Both girls hit the ground hard, skidding opposite each other, but before either has recovered, a gurgling groan spilled into the alley.

They whirled to find the mangled Zombie lurching into view, its body barely holding together. They both froze.

And then another joined it.

And another…

And another… Within seconds, the alley's narrow mouth was overflowed as an entire horde surged in like a tidal wave, crushing the first five Undead underfoot until they burst into wet paste like meat through a grinder.

Sachi stared, paralyzed, as the wall of death swept forward—uncaring, unstoppable—only to split around her like the Red Sea did Moses once more, a stream of rot and hunger which funneled past without so much as brushing her sleeve to descend upon her would-be killer.

“Ar—AhHhAhh—Ek!” The woman reached out, desperate fingers clawing toward Sachi for help, but the girl stood frozen, too terrified to move, too horrified to help. It wasn’t until teeth found her shoulder, until her screams shifted pitch from smoldering rage to intense agony that she finally understood she'd more than likely die today.

“I'LL SEE YOU IN HELL!”

She shrieked, face twisting as decaying teeth found her scalp.

“I’LLSEEYOUINHELL!!!”