"Lord Marik."
Odion entered the room and offered a respectful salute.
"How many times do I have to tell you—there's no need for that."
Marik, sitting on the sofa, waved his hand impatiently.
"The Pharaoh has returned to the underworld, and the cards of the Three Egyptian Gods have disappeared from the mortal realm. The mission of our Tomb Keeper clan ended long ago. You and I are no longer bound by the chains of the past.
From now on, we're just brothers. I'm no longer a master you need to serve."
It wasn't the first time he'd said something like this. But Odion had grown up in the Tomb Keeper clan; for the first half of his life he had been Marik's unwaveringly loyal servant. Habits formed over so many years were hard to change overnight, even if he were told to.
"Forget it," Marik said. "Did you meet that person?"
Odion replied, "I did."
"You lost?"
Odion said, "A complete defeat."
Marik nodded. "He's a man who's earned the title of King. If he didn't have that level of strength, that would be strange."
But Marik wasn't the kind of man who would be intimidated by the name "Duel King." After all, he too had once stood at the summit—one of the duelists who had commanded the supreme divine gods and contended with the strongest of the age.
Although things hadn't ended as he wished back then, he didn't think that meant he'd been kicked out of the top tier. He'd always believed that with a bit of luck involved, even if not against the Pharaoh, at least against Seto Kaiba he had a chance to win.
It's just that now he no longer had his old thirst for revenge. He also had no interest in hollow titles like Duel King or world champion, so he never bothered competing for them. He hadn't even been deliberately gathering intel on the strong players of the current era.
Still, seeing his trusted subordinate clash with the current Duel King did pique his interest, so he continued:
"Then how did he break through your layers of traps?
Overwhelming rushdown? Summoning and attack speed so fast your trap deployment couldn't keep up? Or did he summon an ace monster with powerful resistance? Or a heavy back-row-destruction assault?"
He listed several tactics he could think of, but Odion only shook his head at each.
"No," Odion said dully. "It wasn't that he broke through me. It was that I couldn't break through him."
Marik: "?"
"He opened with Jinzo, plus Royal Decree," Odion said. "His Jinzo just wouldn't stop. No matter how many times I dealt with it, it came right back instantly—then it even evolved into an advanced form.
My whole deck basically had no place to function. I couldn't win."
Marik: "…"
After a long pause, he finally spoke.
"Mm. Jinzo, huh… That's pretty unfortunate. You did well. Looks like this Duel King really has some methods."
At that moment, a clear female voice came from behind them:
"But that's good news for us, isn't it?"
They looked toward the sound and saw that Marik's older sister, Ishizu, was already standing at the doorway.
"Sister." Marik stood.
"The wicked god is awakening. The stronger the forces we can gather, the better," Ishizu said.
Marik nodded. "True. Let's hope he can handle it."
After a pause, Marik looked a bit wistful. "It's been years since my duel with Seto Kaiba. I haven't seen the first Duel King in so long. If it were Yugi Muto—the one who personally sent the Pharaoh off in the Ceremonial Battle—then surely…"
Ishizu shook her head. "So many years have passed. This world can't rely on him alone forever."
"…That's true as well."
Marik leaned back into the sofa, falling silent in thought.
…
Elsewhere.
A place of darkness, like a domain filled with despair. Thick black clouds rolled like a sea, and within that sea of clouds, enormous dark silhouettes seemed to lurk.
In the darkness, one silhouette spoke.
"You failed?"
Several seconds of silence.
Then another silhouette slowly rose from below the cloud sea. Its shape faintly revealed a long body, a twisted tail, and broad wings—vaguely resembling the "Wicked God Eraser" that had just fought Kira.
"I was careless," Eraser rumbled.
A third shadow snorted. "Not the Pharaoh King, not a priest—just an ordinary human. Even if you're the weakest among us, this is truly disgraceful."
Eraser, unconvinced, craned its neck. "That kid used dirty tricks! I wasn't on guard for a moment.
Besides, the human host itself was too weak. I could only attach to that weakling and act indirectly—my restrictions were far too great. If I could appear in person, against a mere human like that, what right would he have—"
"Enough."
The first shadow cut it off. Eraser immediately shut its mouth, not daring to speak further. Though it bore the title of wicked god, it still seemed to fear the pressure of this companion.
The first shadow said, "In the end it's still the same problem.
If not for that detestable Pharaoh King—and those equally irritating human accomplices of his—why would we be trapped in this state?
If we weren't bound by seals, if we could be fully released—looking at this world as it is today, what duelist would still be qualified to fight us?"
As the three great wicked gods corresponding to the divine gods, their eyes had originally only been on the Pharaoh and those priests. Now the Pharaoh was gone; only the reincarnations of the priests still counted as a threat.
Among those reincarnated priests, the brightest was undoubtedly Priest Seto—today's Seto Kaiba. He should have been a threat, but the last time the wicked gods acted years ago, they had already crossed him. Back then, the wicked gods—attached to Yako Tenma—had defeated Seto Kaiba with ease. So now they no longer took that defeated opponent seriously.
The single biggest issue was that, at present, they had no body that could act freely and unleash enough of their power.
Just then, a new force surged in this dark world. The black cloud sea rose up, and from it emerged a figure far smaller than the three silhouettes—human-shaped, judging by its size.
Such a tiny human, yet he faced the three gods calmly, looking quite composed.
It was a man wearing a black leather jacket. He had short hair, a square face with sharp angles like it had been carved with a blade, and dark black sunglasses on his nose. He wore a smile that seemed confident at all times.
"Then, since the wicked god lords have many inconvenient limitations, and we just so happen to have an inexhaustible supply of bodies suitable for action…
So, what do the wicked god lords think of our earlier proposal?"
The man pushed up his sunglasses and chuckled softly.
"If we become the wicked god lords' hands, feet, and eyes, wouldn't many things become much easier?"
The three wicked gods fell silent.
After a moment, the first shadow slowly spoke.
"Say it again. Your terms."
…