Heavy boots clattered against the rusted metal plates of the alleyway. The dual engine hum of two Sector Security Pursuit Bikes died down into a low, threatening rumble, leaving only the sharp smell of burnt ozone and diesel in the stagnant Satellite air. Ryuki Sato didn't run. He stood near the overturned trash receptacle, his fingers digging into the worn fabric of his jacket. Underneath his right sleeve, the skin of his forearm felt like it had been branded with a white-hot iron, though the violent crimson glow of the arched dragon mark had finally died down to a dull, throbbing ache. "Don't move a twitch, Satellite trash," the lead officer growled. He swung his leg off his bike, his heavy white plate armor clinking as he took three deliberate steps forward. The chest emblem—a stylized black shield—gleamed under the flickering sodium lights overhead. His visor flipped up, revealing a broad, square jaw and eyes narrowed in disgust. Beside him, a younger officer pulled a handheld scanner unit from his belt, pointing its black glass lens directly at Ryuki's arm. "Officer Tenma," the younger one said, his thumb tapping the screen frantically. "The thermal pulse originated right here. Readings hit three thousand kelvin before dropping. It's an unregistered mark spike, no doubt about it." Tenma unclipped a heavy, telescopic stun baton from his hip with a metallic snap. "Well, well. What do we have here? A rat hiding in the gutter with something he shouldn't have." "I don't know what your machine is picking up," Ryuki said, keeping his voice flat and steady, though his pulse hammered against his ribs. "I'm just passing through." "Save it," Tenma barked, stepping into Ryuki's personal space until the metallic stench of his uniform filled Ryuki's lungs. "We know what you are. An unregistered Signer mark. You slum dogs think you can hide from Security? Roll up your sleeve. Right now." "I haven't committed a crime," Ryuki said, taking half a step back. "Existing down here with an unregistered mark is a crime," Tenma spat, pointing the tip of his baton at Ryuki's chest. "You don't get to ask questions, trash. You obey." --- The younger officer unclipped a pair of heavy magnetic binders from his belt, the internal lock clicking as he approached Ryuki from the side. "Hands behind your back," the junior officer commanded. "You're coming with us to the Facility for processing. Director's orders on all mark anomalies." The Facility. The word echoed off the concrete walls of the alley. Behind a row of rusted shipping containers, two local scavengers who had been watching from the shadows instantly backed away, vanishing into the darkness without a sound. Ryuki's jaw tightened until his teeth ground together. Handcuffs? The Facility? In his past life, Ryuki had been a grandmaster duelist, a strategist who spent hours refining his deck engines to absolute perfection, refusing to bend his playstyle to anyone. He had never bowed to anyone, never pleaded, and never let an authority figure dictate his worth. To be hauled off in chains like a stray dog by two low-level beat cops? The thought sent a jolt of ice through his veins, burning away the lingering confusion and replacing it with pure, cold arrogance. "Touch me," Ryuki whispered, his voice dropping an octave, "and you'll regret it." Tenma laughed, a harsh, mocking sound that rattled in his helmet. "Is that a threat, rat? You think you're in a position to negotiate?" Ryuki didn't answer with words. Instead, he snapped his left arm upward. The crude, retrofitted mechanical Duel Disk strapped to his wrist hissed as its broad side-wings expanded into place with a sharp clack. He slapped his generic starter deck into the side slot, the machine whirring as it read the digital codes. "If you want to drag me anywhere," Ryuki said, his eyes locking onto Tenma's with lethal intensity, "you're going to have to take my Life Points first. Or is Sector Security only brave when their targets are already in chains?" Tenma's laughter cut off instantly. His square face flushed dark red with anger. "You arrogant little worm. You want to duel? You think your pathetic Satellite trash-heap deck can stand up to official Security issue?" He unclipped his own arm-mounted Duel Disk from his bike's holster, slapping it onto his forearm with a heavy metallic thud. "Fine," Tenma sneered, his disk glowing with crisp neon light. "I'll break your pride into dust before I throw you in a cell." --- "Duel!" both voices called out as the digital counters flared to life. [Ryuki: 4000 LP] [Tenma: 4000 LP] "I'll take the first move, rat!" Tenma roared, drawing five cards with a dramatic flourish. "And I'll show you how real duelists in Neo Domino fight!" Tenma slammed a card onto his blade. "I Normal Summon Search Striker in Attack Position!" A heavily armored police warrior with searchlights mounted on its shoulders materialized in a flash of blue light [ATK: 1600]. "Next, I activate the Spell card Emergency Tuning from my hand!" Tenma grinned viciously. "This lets me Special Summon a Tuner monster straight from my hand! Come forth, Jitte Fighter!" A lean, red-clad martial artist wielding iron batons appeared beside the striker [ATK: 700 / Level 2 Tuner]. "Now!" Tenma threw his arm skyward. "I tune my Level 2 Jitte Fighter with my Level 4 Search Striker!" The martial artist dissolved into two glowing green synchro rings that encircled the police warrior. A column of blinding white light shot into the night sky. "Clashing batons of justice, shatter the dark! Synchro Summon! Stand forth, Stygian Sergeants!" The light burst outward, revealing a dark, muscular warrior clad in spiked obsidian armor, holding twin serrated broadswords that gleamed with malignant red energy [ATK: 2200 / Level 6]. "I end my turn!" Tenma taunted, crossing his arms over his chest plate. "Look at you standing on your own two feet like an ancient caveman. No Duel Runner. No Synchro monsters. You're using stone-age tactics in a world that passed you by decades ago!" Ryuki drew his card for his turn. He looked down at his hand: basic Normal Monsters with mediocre stats, a couple of generic battle tricks like Rush Recklessly and Shrink, and a single copy of Seven Tools of the Bandit. The cards felt lightweight, cheap, and utterly devoid of the overwhelming dragon power he was used to wielding. --- Tenma's laughter echoed off the alley walls, but Ryuki didn't hear him anymore. He lowered his hand slightly, closing his eyes as a cold wind swept through the ruined street. He remembered the words of the card shop vendor from earlier. *Blue-Eyes White Dragon? That's an ancient relic. A museum piece.* Ryuki's mind whirred as the pieces locked into place. If Blue-Eyes White Dragon is considered a historical museum piece here... that means this world's timeline is directly connected to the era of Duel Monsters and GX. It means Seto Kaiba wasn't just a fictional character in his old life. He actually existed. Kaiba built the duel technology that laid the foundation for this very city. And if Kaiba existed, then the deep KaibaCorp archives—the modern support trees Ryuki had mastered in 2026 like Dictator of D., Jet Dragon, Spirit Dragon, and high-tier Synchro engines—aren't myth. They were either developed later or locked away in Topside vaults. His deck wasn't gone forever. It was waiting for him top-side. But to get there, he had to survive today. Ryuki opened his eyes, his gaze locking onto Tenma with absolute, freezing contempt. "You talk about evolution," Ryuki said, his voice dropping into a razor-sharp calm. "But you're just a mediocre duelist leaning on a high-stat extra deck monster because you lack the brains to play actual strategy." "What did you say?!" Tenma growled. "I draw!" Ryuki looks at the card he drawn Gene-Warped WarWolf. "I Normal Summon Gene-Warped WarWolf," Ryuki said coldly, slapping a card onto the field blade. A hulking, insectoid warrior materialized, snarling fiercely [ATK: 2000]. "Next, I set two cards face-down. End turn." "2000 Attack?" Tenma barked with laughter. "That trash can't beat my Sergeant's 2200 ATK! My turn! Draw!" Tenma instantly moved to attack. "Stygian Sergeants, destroy his bug! Infernal Blade!" The dark warrior leaped into the air, blades glowing red. "Activate Quick-Play Spell: Shrink!" Ryuki barked, flipping his face-down. "Targeting Stygian Sergeants! Its original Attack power is halved until the end of this turn!" The dark warrior shrank in size, its aura flickering as its attack dropped drastically [ATK: 2200 -> 1100]. "What?!" Tenma gasped. "Your attack continues," Ryuki said coldly. Gene-Warped WarWolf swung its two of four claws, cleaving the weakened Synchro monster directly down the middle. Stygian Sergeants exploded into fiery shards. Tenma yelled as the shockwave threw him off balance, his Life Points dropping dramatically [Tenma: 4000 -> 3100 LP]. "You... you bastard!" Tenma snarled. "I set one card face-down and end my turn!" "My turn. Draw," Ryuki said smoothly. He glanced at the drawn card: Ookazi "I declare a direct attack with Gene-Warped WarWolf," Ryuki commanded. "Trap card activate! Dimensional Prison!" Tenma screamed, flipping his face-down. "Banish your attacking monster!" "Chain Trap card!" Ryuki's voice cut through the air like a whip. "Activate Seven Tools of the Bandit! By paying 1000 Life Points, your Trap card's activation is negated and destroyed!" [Ryuki: 4000 -> 3000 LP] Tenma's trap shattered into worthless dust. "Now," Ryuki said, activating his final card. "Quick-Play Spell: Rush Recklessly! My monster gains 700 Attack points until the end of this turn!" [Gene-Warped WarWolf ATK: 2000 -> 2700] "Take him down," Ryuki ordered. The beast-warrior lunged forward, slamming its heavy armored claw straight into Tenma's chest. [Tenma: 3100 -> 400] "Ugh!" Tenma raises his arm up to shield himself from the blowback. "Up next I'll activate a spellcard Ookazi," Ryuki slot in the card coldly. "With this I win. It deals 800 lifepoints directly!" A pillar of flames, striking Tenma straight into his chest. --- The impact was devastating. The holographic force-feedback sent a shockwave roaring through the alley. Tenma was lifted clean off his feet, crashing violently onto the hard pavement. His arm-mounted Duel Disk struck the ground with a sickening crunch, sparks flying from its internal housing as his Life Points plummeted straight to zero. [Tenma: 0 LP] The digital arenas collapsed, blue particles fading into the dim night air. Silence settled over the alleyway, broken only by the heavy panting of the junior officer, who stood frozen in utter disbelief. On the sidelines, hidden behind broken crates, the scavengers stared with wide, unbelieving eyes. A pedestrian on foot had just crushed a fully armored Sector Security officer using nothing but basic spell speed tricks and precise timing. Tenma groaned, pushing himself up onto his knees. His uniform was scuffed with dirt, his helmet cracked at the visor. He clutched his bruised ribs, coughing violently as he looked up at Ryuki. Ryuki stood over him, his long coat fluttering in the cold Satellite wind. As Ryuki adjusted his left glove, his right sleeve slid back slightly. Under the dim sodium streetlamp, the crimson dragon mark on Ryuki's forearm pulsed once with an incandescent, blood-red heat before slowly dimming. Tenma's eyes widened in sheer, unadulterated terror. The color drained completely from his face. The Sector Security officer, defeated and humiliated, points a shaking finger at Ryuki, gasping, "Goodwin… Director Goodwin will hear of this… your mark…"

Chapter 3: Chains of the Satellite