The golden sun of Domino City filtered through the clouds as the Battle City Tournament loomed just over the horizon. Streets buzzed with excitement, duelists gathering from all over the world, cards clutched tightly in gloved hands, duel disks glinting under the sky. In the midst of this rising energy, Arthur Hawkins led his grandniece Rebecca and his young great-nephew Connor toward the Domino Plaza.
Connor adjusted his duel disk with a quiet sigh. Though his body was that of a child, his eyes flicked with a seriousness that unsettled most adults. His gaze was sharp, studying his surroundings with suspicion and clarity.
"Are you sure Yugi and his friends are meeting us here, Granduncle?" Connor asked, hands in his coat pockets, his voice carrying a mix of cautious anticipation and tightly reined excitement.
"Yes," Arthur said with a nostalgic smile. "Solomon and I go way back. I want to hear how he's doing, and meet his grandson in person. That boy's been making waves."
As they turned the corner, a familiar figure in a black high-collar jacket waved them over. Yugi Muto stood with his friends Tea and Tristan, the Millennium Puzzle glowing faintly against his chest.
"Professor Hawkins!" Yugi greeted warmly, stepping forward. His eyes lit up in recognition. "My grandfather always spoke fondly of you."
Arthur grinned, clasping Yugi's hand with warmth. "And you're the famous grandson, huh? It's good to see Solomon's spirit carried on. How is the old man?"
Yugi chuckled, rubbing the back of his neck. "Still running the shop and lecturing me every morning about cleaning my room."
Tea laughed beside him. "That sounds about right."
Connor stepped beside Rebecca, his demeanor relaxing for the first time that day. His eyes, previously hard with vigilance, now brightened with genuine excitement as he approached Yugi.
"So you're Connor," Yugi said, smiling at him. "Arthur told me you were a prodigy."
Connor nodded, his voice softer but filled with admiration. "Yeah... It's really great to meet you. I've read about your duels and watched recordings. You're one of my favorite duelists."
Yugi's eyes widened slightly in surprise, then softened. "Thanks. That means a lot. I hope we get to duel sometime."
Connor grinned faintly, his earlier stoicism giving way to the joy of meeting a personal hero. "I'd like that."
Before the conversation could continue, Tristan glanced around, frowning. "Hey, has anyone seen Joey? We were supposed to meet up here an hour ago."
The atmosphere shifted. A quiet tension wrapped itself around the group.
"He wouldn't miss this," Tea said, arms folded, concern drawing lines across her forehead.
A new voice entered the scene.
"I heard someone mention Joey Wheeler?"
They turned to see a young man with slick black hair, neatly styled, and a calm demeanor. He wore no eyeliner, and his presence felt overly friendly, almost rehearsed.
"Name's Namu," he introduced with a disarming smile. "I've been hearing some talk about Rare Hunters moving around the city. I think they might have taken your friend."
Connor's eyes narrowed, his body tensing instinctively. Something felt off. The way Namu walked, spoke, inserted himself seamlessly into their group—it was too clean. Too smooth. His instincts screamed caution.
"You know where they are?" Yugi asked, a glimmer of hope in his voice.
Namu nodded without missing a beat. "There's an old warehouse down by the docks. I've seen Rare Hunters going in and out. I can take you there."
Arthur furrowed his brow, his hand tightening subtly around his cane. "It could be a trap."
"If it gets us Joey back, it's worth the risk," Yugi said, determination hardening his voice. He looked to the others. "We can't just sit around."
Connor lingered as the group began to move. He gently tugged Rebecca's sleeve, pulling her a step aside.
"Be careful," he whispered, his expression darkening. "Don't trust that guy."
Rebecca raised an eyebrow. "Why? He seems helpful."
"He's not who he says he is," Connor said under his breath, watching Namu carefully. "I don't have all the pieces, but something's off. Just... stay close to Granduncle."
Though she didn't understand completely, something in Connor's tone made her nod. "Alright. Just be careful too."
With that, the group followed Namu through the maze of alleyways and side streets, eventually arriving at a decrepit warehouse. The structure loomed like a dead titan, its walls covered in rust and its windows long shattered.The group arrived at an abandoned warehouse on the edge of Domino City
. The once-functional loading bay loomed like the gaping mouth of some long-forgotten creature. Shattered windows glistened like jagged teeth, and layers of graffiti—gang tags, faded warnings, and strange symbols—decorated the crumbling concrete walls. The wind howled through the hollow building like a warning.
"They've been using this place to regroup," Namu explained, stepping over a loose brick. His voice was even, but his dark eyes flicked from shadow to shadow. "But I can't guarantee how many are left."
Inside, the flickering lights overhead cast elongated shadows that moved like specters. A low electrical buzz echoed in the cavernous space.
As the group stepped inside, they fanned out instinctively. Tea and Tristan remained close to Arthur and Rebecca, who had both slowed their pace with wary expressions.
Connor's body tensed. He could feel it—something was wrong.
From the corners of the warehouse, shadows stirred.
Four Rare Hunters emerged as if materializing from the walls themselves. Clad in long black cloaks, their duel disks gleamed beneath the flickering lights. Their eyes were cold, vacant, like glass marbles reflecting nothing but obedience.
"This way," Namu added quickly, slipping in front of the group. "Let me and Jason handle this."
"Jason?" Tea asked, confused.
At that moment, another figure stepped from the opposite end of the warehouse. Jason Whitesmith. His lab coat, pristine and crisp despite the dust, swayed as he approached. His expression was unreadable—sharp, calculating, detached. The kind of face that studied you like an equation rather than a person.
Connor's breath caught. Jason. Here. In person. The scientist who wasn't supposed to exist in this world outside of the shadows. Their eyes met, and Jason's gaze pierced into him with surgical intensity.
Jason's lips curved slightly. "Looking into Rare Hunter movements," he replied smoothly, answering the question before it could even be asked.
Arthur stepped forward. "You're with the American Government, aren't you?"
"Among other things," Jason replied.
The broken light fixtures above crackled with every flicker, casting stuttering shadows across the warehouse floor. Each burst of fluorescent glow painted the rusted steel beams in momentary hues of white and ash-gray before plunging them back into gloom. The air was heavy with dust, each breath thick and dry—like inhaling the past lives of the forgotten.
Connor stood near a corroded support pillar, half-turned from the others, his small jaw clenched so tight it trembled visibly beneath the pale glow. His sapphire eyes flicked across the room, catching sight of Jason—calm, collected, a ghost in a white coat standing perfectly at ease. The faintest smirk lingered on his lips, so subtle most would've missed it. But Connor didn't miss it. He never missed anything when it came to Jason.
Jason didn't look like someone standing in enemy territory. He looked like someone standing on a board he'd built himself.
Connor's fingers twitched—once, then twice—before curling inward.
Then they balled into fists so tight the skin stretched bone-white across his knuckles.
It wasn't fair.
It had been weeks since he'd woken up in this small, foreign body—weeks since that fan convention, where excitement and joy had been devoured by a white-hot explosion that ripped through the room like judgment.
Now here he stood, trapped in a child's frame. Same mind. Same memories. But every time he looked into a mirror, all he saw was the soft innocence of a boy too young to even understand betrayal.
His small shoulders trembled beneath the loose sleeves of his jacket. His upper lip curled slightly in a silent sneer, eyes narrowing with icy venom. A bead of sweat formed at his brow—not from fear, but from the sheer effort of holding his anger down.
Across the room, Jason smiled pleasantly toward Arthur and Rebecca, offering a slight nod like some kind of gracious guardian guiding the group through uncertain terrain.
Connor's stomach twisted.
He wanted to scream.
Instead, he forced his arms to drop to his sides, his fists slowly loosening. As his fingers uncurl, faint crescents of red were left imprinted in his palms where his nails had bit into skin. The dull throb grounded him.
His brow furrowed tighter. His breathing grew shallow. Controlled. Every breath was like inhaling glass.
He couldn't confront Jason now.
Rebecca was watching, standing too close—her bright, curious eyes trusting the man who had caused all of this. Arthur still believed Jason was some brilliant mind, a misunderstood intellect, not a manipulator wearing a white coat like a lab-grown disguise. Tristan, Tea, and Yugi were nearby, unaware of the poison among them. And Joey—Joey was still lost, brainwashed and shackled in some corner of this crumbling warehouse.
Jason was probably counting on that.
He was probably already three steps ahead—five escape routes mapped, and a failsafe device hidden in his coat pocket just in case things turned sideways.
Connor's jaw ticked again, his throat tightening under the weight of too many unsaid truths. His breath shook in his lungs. He blinked quickly, suppressing the heat rising behind his eyes. The face he wore may have been that of a five-year-old, but the fire behind it burned with the fury of someone who had lost everything.
He exhaled slowly through his teeth, soft and controlled.
His expression softened just enough to avoid drawing attention, but his eyes remained locked—piercing, vengeful, unblinking.
Jason turned his head slightly. Like he had felt it.
Their eyes met.
Jason didn't flinch. He offered a slow, almost apologetic nod, as if acknowledging a pact neither of them had agreed to.
Connor's lips parted slightly in disbelief—then pressed into a firm, bitter line. A flicker of something dangerous crossed his face, but he caught it, buried it. He looked away just before his expression could betray too much.
His tiny fists trembled again, not with fear—but with restraint.
Jason and Namu turned toward the approaching Rare Hunters. Their duel disks lit up simultaneously with a mechanical hiss.
"We'll stall them," Jason said without turning, his tone too calm, too surgical.
Yugi nodded. "Be careful."
Tea, Tristan, Rebecca, and Arthur stepped to the side, sticking close to the rusted wall near the entrance. But as Yugi and Connor advanced into the warehouse, a sudden steel door slammed shut behind them, separating the group.
"Connor!" Rebecca called out, panic rising in her voice.
"We're fine! Find another way around!" Connor shouted back.
Lights flickered again, and a low rumble echoed through the metallic floor.
"They're trying to split us up," Arthur said grimly.
Tea grabbed Tristan's sleeve. "We need to move. Now."
Meanwhile, Yugi and Connor crept through the maze of rusting metal racks and collapsed crates deeper into the warehouse.
The sound hit them first—a high-pitched hum, unmistakable.
Two duel disks activated just ahead.
Yugi broke into a run.
"Joey!"
He skidded to a halt, heart leaping into his throat.
Joey Wheeler stood on the far side of a ruined loading platform, duel disk primed and glowing. But his eyes... they weren't his.
His pupils shimmered with a faint purple haze, and his stance—usually relaxed and scrappy—was rigid and still. A faint symbol, like a ghostly tattoo, pulsed above his brow.
"Joey..." Yugi whispered.
Beside him, a Rare Hunter stepped forward. The man was tall, draped in a black cloak, and his face was covered by a metal visor. He raised his hand in eerie synchronization with Joey.
"You've come," the Rare Hunter intoned. His voice was empty, devoid of emotion. "You will now face Exodia and the Betrayer."
Connor stepped beside Yugi, fire in his eyes. "You brainwashed him."
The Rare Hunter did not respond. Instead, he slid a card into his disk, and the arena's holographic emitters flared to life.
Yugi's eyes narrowed. "Then we duel for his soul."
He activated his duel disk, and its golden light filled the chamber.
Connor's own duel disk clicked open with a flash of blue.
"You're not doing this alone," he said firmly.
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