The night draped itself in a deeper shade of black over the rolling hills surrounding Aster Phoenix's childhood home. The modest estate sat nestled in a quiet suburb, framed by softly rustling trees and blanketed in silence. The moonlight filtered through shifting clouds, casting long shadows across the lawn. It should have been a peaceful evening.
Jason Whitesmith stood at the back entrance, flanked by the ever-stoic Duelist Exterminator. Jason's white lab coat fluttered slightly in the breeze, and his expression was cold, clinical. He held a silenced pistol close to his side, his other hand pulling a set of lock picks from a pouch. A flick of the wrist, a soft click, and the door creaked open.
"You remember the plan," Jason whispered, his voice devoid of emotion.
The Duelist Exterminator said nothing, only offering a curt nod.
Inside, the soft yellow light of a desk lamp illuminated the study. Aster's father, a respected duelist and the creator of the Destiny HERO archetype, sat hunched over schematics and deck prototypes. His brow furrowed in focus, unaware of the shadows creeping into his sanctuary.
He looked up at the sound of footsteps. "What are you do—"
Jason fired.
The silenced shot rang out more in its consequences than its sound. Aster's father jerked violently, eyes wide in confusion and pain as he slumped to the floor, blood spilling across the wood in a slow, creeping pool. His face was frozen in a mix of betrayal and disbelief.
Jason approached the body, his expression unchanging. He knelt, opening a reinforced briefcase with a hiss of compressed air. Inside was a foam-lined interior meant to carry high-value items. From a black binder on the desk, Jason carefully extracted each of the Destiny HERO cards. Dreadmaster, Diamond Dude, Dogma, Celestial—one by one, he slid them into the case.
Then his fingers stopped.
Destiny HERO - Plasma.
The card seemed to hum faintly in the dim light, its energy thick and foreboding. Jason stared at it, the usual detachment in his eyes replaced for a moment by wary recognition.
"Too dangerous to keep," he murmured.
He picked up the card gingerly by its edges with a pair of forceps from his coat pocket, careful to avoid skin contact. With a smooth motion, he flicked open a silver lighter and held the flame to the bottom corner of the card.
It caught instantly.
Jason dropped it onto the carpet, and flames rose around the edges. The card writhed unnaturally as it burned, as if resisting destruction. But within moments, it was ash.
A soft sound broke the tension.
"Dad...?"
Aster stood in the hallway, no more than five years old. He wore cartoon pajamas with a small Duel Monsters logo across the chest. His messy grey hair clung to his forehead, and his eyes—big, round, and shining with terror—locked onto the scene before him: the fire, the blood, the strangers.
Jason turned, gun rising instinctively.
But the Duelist Exterminator stepped between them. His tall, imposing frame shielded the child.
"Don't," he said. His voice was low, cold, and final.
Jason's expression twisted with frustration. "He'll tell the police. He's a loose end."
The Duelist Exterminator didn't move. "Hurt him, and I kill you."
Jason's eyes flicked to the Exterminator's, and for the first time in a long while, Jason hesitated. There was a flicker of something in his expression—uncertainty... fear.
"Fine," Jason muttered, lowering the gun. He exhaled through his nose and reached into his coat, pulling out the Millennium Key.
"We erase his memory."
He knelt slowly in front of Aster. The boy was frozen, his little body trembling. Jason placed the Key gently against the child's forehead. A shimmer of golden light enveloped them, and Aster's expression softened. His eyes fluttered closed, and he slumped forward into unconsciousness.
"He won't remember a thing," Jason said as he stood. "Not us. Not tonight. He'll just wake up to smoke and fire."
The Duelist Exterminator stepped forward, lifting the boy in his arms with surprising gentleness. He carried him out through the front door and laid him on the front steps, just outside the smoke.
Inside, the fire had begun to spread. The scorched edges of the carpet licked higher as the oxygen fed the flames. The lab, the schematics, the traces of what had been Destiny HERO—all of it was being consumed.
Jason walked through the house calmly, rejoining the CIA agents waiting outside. The agents stood next to a black SUV, tense and ready.
"Where to next?" one asked.
Jason didn't look back. "Domino City," he said flatly. "Time to deal with the other Millennium Item holders. One by one."
Behind them, firelight bathed the estate in flickering gold.
Aster Phoenix would awaken alone. Confused. Changed. The image of the man he would become had just been rewritten by a force he would never remember.
Jason climbed into the SUV. His reflection in the window caught his eye for a moment—he smiled.
"The past burns away," he whispered, "and the future belongs to those who reshape it."
The Duelist Exterminator said nothing. He closed the door behind them, eyes still fixed on the fire.
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