# LDS Command Tower — 09:04 AM
"Signal strength in Zone 4 is down three percent," Nakajima said, leaning over his terminal. His fingers tapped a rapid rhythm across the glass keyboard. "It's within acceptable margins for high-density spectator networks, but—"
"Isolate the frequency," Reiji commanded. He didn't turn away from the primary glass array overlooking Maiami City. Below them, the sprawling Action Duel arenas of the Maiami Championship Battle Royal were coming alive under a pristine, cloudless sky. Thousands of fans filled the stands; hundreds of duelists were already scattering through simulated environments.
"Isolating," Nakajima murmured. "It's not interference. It's... a localized dampening. Like a heavy blanket passing over the sensor array."
Reiji adjusted his glasses, the cyan glow of the city grid reflecting across his lenses. "Is it moving?"
"No, sir. Stationary. Right over the Central Ruins zone."
"Keep the perimeter surveillance active. Do not alert the public." Reiji's voice remained flat, devoid of alarm. "If it's an anomaly, it will define itself soon enough."
# Eastern Zone: Volcano Arena — 09:30 AM
"And the crowd goes wild!" Razz shouted from a nearby stone bridge, striking a cocky pose as two local academy duelists groaned beneath him, their Life Points having just hit zero. He tossed a card carelessly into his sleeve. "Look upon it, citizens! Raw talent! Pure dominance!"
"You're standing on an active lava vent, idiot!" A LDS duelist yelled back, wiping soot from his jacket. "Even if the Real Solid Vision heat setting is turned up to medium in this sector, your boots are smoking!"
"A real contender doesn't feel the heat! They emmit heat!" Razz barked, though he quickly hopped down onto cooler rock, wincing slightly as he checked the soles of his shoes. He grinned up at the floating camera drones. "Are you getting this, people?! This is what real duelist look like!"
A hundred yards away, leaning against a faux-granite pillar, Dennis Macfield gave a soft chuckle. He held cards between his fingers, fanning them out with a silky, hypnotizing fluid motion.
"Not bad, not bad," Dennis hummed to himself, his bright eyes scanning the arena. He wasn't watching Razz's theatrical display. His gaze drifted past the crowds, tracking the precise layout of the field traps, the locations of the public broadcasting drones, and the density of the Solid Vision emitters.
"Sector 3 coverage is ninety-eight percent automated," Dennis noted silently, his cheerful smile never wavering for a fraction of a second. "LDS security presence... minimal. Local authorities relying entirely on central data streams."
He flipped his deck shut with a crisp snap and tucked it into his pouch. "Time to go make a few more friends."
#Northern Zone: Mountain Pass — 10:45 AM
Yuya Sakaki ran along the narrow dirt path, the mountain air cool against his face. His father's pendulum swung rhythmically against his chest. For the first time in days, the heavy, suffocating dark that had settled over him since Sora's disappearance felt manageable.
Yuya's eyes bright with a quiet, stubborn conviction.
He rounded a bend in the path and almost ran straight into a group of younger duelists gathered around a wooden bench.
"Whoa! Watch it!" A boy yelled, before stopping short. "Wait... you're Sakaki! The Pendulum guy!"
"Guilty as charged!" Yuya laughed. "Welcome to the show, guys! Keep your eyes on the sky and your hearts in the duel!"
The kids cheered as Yuya, performing a quick, graceful pivot before jogging off. He felt light. The duel disk on his wrist hummed smoothly, its power levels steady.
"I can do this," Yuya thought, his smile widening. "We can. We can make everyone smile."
Deep inside his extra deck slot, Dark Rebellion Xyz Dragon gave a single, microscopic vibration. Yuya didn't notice. He was already running toward the sound of the crowd.
# Eastern Zone: Forest District — 01:15 PM
Celina moved through the tall, simulated pines like a ghost. She didn't look at the Action Cards hidden in the hollows of the trees. She didn't look at the duelists engaging in loud, flashy battles in the clearings.
Her Duel Disk was locked in passive tracking mode, its small screen displaying a sweeping sonar arc.
Ping
A faint, lingering spike of extra-dimensional energy registered on her display—far too sharp to be standard Real Solid Vision, far too structured to be a random system glitch.
"Xyz," she whispered, her emerled-green eyes narrowing.
She adjusted her grip on her wrist guard. She wasn't here under Leo Akaba's direct command for this specific tournament. She had slipped into the game grid on her own, driven by the burning, unyielding need to prove that her doubts hadn't softened her edge.
"If the Xyz remnants are operating here," Celina reasoned, her boots making almost no sound on the needle-covered ground, "they will draw toward the highest concentration of power. I find them. I will card them. I will prove I am not weak."
She checked her screen again. The reading flickered once, then drifted toward the direction of Ancient Ruins. But the Volcano area was gonna come first before Ancient Ruins. In the same direction.
Celina adjusted her cloak and broke into a quiet, efficient sprint.
# Northern Zone: Ancient Ruins — 01:21 PM
Shun Kurosaki stood atop the broken stone archway of the central amphitheater, hidden in the deep shadows of the ruined canopy. His coat hung heavy on his shoulders. He didn't move. He barely seemed to breathe.
Below him, the Battle Royal raged on—cards flaring, Real Solid Vision monsters roaring, kids laughing and screaming with artificial tension. To Shun, it was all background noise. A soft, meaningless circus.
His sharp, predatory eyes were fixed on a single figure moving through the lower courtyard.
Yuya Sakaki.
Shun's fists clenched tightly inside his gloves. He wasn't watching Yuya's footwork. He wasn't watching his Pendulum cards.
His gaze was locked onto Yuya.
"Yuto's dragon is in there," Shun thought, a cold, lethal stillness settling deep within his chest. "Yuto would never hand his ace to an enemy. He would never yield it to a civilian. Which means..."
He didn't finish the thought. He didn't need to. He reached for his Duel Disk, his fingers resting on the leather casing of his deck.
"Not yet," Shun muttered to the empty air, his voice a low, gravelly rasp. "Confirm first. Exterminate second."
# LDS Command Tower — 01:29 PM
"President," Nakajima said, his voice carrying a sudden, tight edge. "The localized dampening in the Ancient Ruins... it just expanded by four percent."
Reiji didn't move from his spot before the central display. "Pattern?"
"It's not expanding radially," Nakajima stammered, scanning the incoming streams. "It's... sinking. The density of the local ambient field is increasing, but the overall transmission throughput is dropping. It's as if something heavy is sitting on the sub-space layer beneath the city."
"Check the underground transit lines," Reiji ordered coldly. "Districts 3 through 6."
"We checked. The sensors in sector 4 subway tunnels went offline twelve minutes ago. Maintenance reported it as a routine power surge."
Reiji's eyes narrowed behind his glasses. "Send no maintenance teams. Reroute all automated security drones away from sector 4."
"Sir?"
"If an enemy is establishing a beachhead," Reiji said softly, his voice sharp as a razor, "you do not send technicians to greet them. You let them complete their geometry... so you know exactly where to strike."
# Central Ruins Courtyard — 01:35 PM
The afternoon sun was beginning to dip, casting long, orange shadows across the crumbling stone pillars of the courtyard.
Yuya jogged into the open space, breathing heavily but still grinning. He had earned four star chips in the last three hours, his deck performing with an almost effortless fluidity.
"Hey! Anyone else down for a duel?!" Yuya called out to the quiet plaza.
A soft rustle of wind blew through the archways, carrying the scent of dry stone and old dust.
Then, a footstep echoed from the high ledge above.
Yuya turned.
Shun dropped from the archway, landing silently on the stone flags ten feet in front of Yuya. He didn't draw a card. He didn't activate his Duel Disk. He stood tall, his dark coat settling around him, his cold gray eyes locked onto Yuya with terrifying intensity.
Yuya blinked, taking a half-step back, caught off guard by the sheer, crushing weight of the man's presence. "You're Kurosaki! I have a lot to ask you about—"
"Where did you get that dragon?" Shun interrupted.
His voice wasn't loud. It wasn't angry. It was flat, hollow, and cold enough to freeze the blood in Yuya's veins.
Yuya froze, his hand instinctively rising to cover his Duel Disk. "What... what are you talking about?"
"Dark Rebellion Xyz Dragon," Shun said, taking one slow, deliberate step forward. "It belongs to Yuto. He would sooner break his own arms than hand that card to a stranger." He paused, his gaze burning straight through Yuya. "Where is he?"
Yuya's mouth went dry. "I... I don't know! He gave it to me! He told me to protect—"
"Liar," Shun whispered.
# Rapid Sequence — 01:39 PM
Forest Perimeter
Celina stopped abruptly in a small clearing. Her tracking device beeped once—a solid, continuous tone—and then the screen went entirely black.
"System failure?" she muttered, tapping the screen.
Around her, the simulated wind in the trees suddenly died. Not a single leaf moved.
Volcano Sector
Dennis sat on a high rock, casually tossing a star chip in the air.
A tiny, high-frequency chime sounded inside his ear canal—a private, encrypted receiver completely independent of LDS networks.
He caught the star chip in his palm and closed his hand. His bright, cheerful smile slowly vanished, replaced by an expression of cold, professional precision.
"Phase Two," he murmured softly to himself.
LDS Command Tower
Nakajima stared at his primary terminal, his face turning pale. "President... the underground sub-space readings..."
"Report," Reiji commanded.
"They didn't increase," Nakajima whispered, his voice trembling. "They just... went silent. All telemetry from the lower levels has completely vanished."
#Underground Transit Line — Sector 4
Deep beneath the bustling, brightly lit arenas of the Maiami Championship, in the pitch-black quiet of an abandoned freight tunnel...
The air temperature dropped twenty degrees in a single second.
A sound echoed down the damp concrete walls—not a footstep, not an engine, but a sharp, unnatural tearing noise, like glass being dragged across steel.
In the middle of the dark, empty tracks, a single, razor-thin line of light appeared in the air.
It glowed a deep, suffocating violet.
CRACK