West Vystoria glowed like a dream built by billionaires.
Hovercars skimmed past glass towers. Golden-trimmed trees swayed in windless courtyards. And on the campus of West Vystoria Preparatory Academy, the air practically smelled like ambition and imported synthetic pine.
Shin and Rex stood at the bottom of the curved marble staircase leading up to their classroom wing.
Rex stared at the school like it had personally insulted him. "You ever get the feeling this place is too shiny? Like, it knows we're from the Eastside?"
"Every time I walk in," Shin said, hands in his pockets. "Feels like the floor's judging my shoes."
"Your shoes are criminal," Rex muttered. "I've seen haunted mansions with less wear and tear."
Shin smirked. "Still faster than you."
"Only when you're running from social responsibility."
They climbed the steps, navigating through a crowd of students—some with glowing familiars floating near their shoulders, others mid-discussion about cards, builds, and last night's online Ladder matches.
But one thing was different today.
The air buzzed with a shared tension.
Every holo-display on campus cycled through the same banner:
"VYSTORIA UNDERCITY OPEN – Prelims Begin Soon! Rank Bronze 5+ May Enter!"
"Do you have what it takes to rise?"
In one courtyard, a small crowd had gathered around two upperclassmen dueling on a raised platform. A massive digital fox wreathed in lightning roared at a spiraling metal knight, their attacks lighting up the walkway like fireworks.
"Everyone's gearing up for it," Rex muttered. "Look at them. Training like it's war."
"Because it is," Shin replied. "War with prize money."
As they neared their classroom, the crowd thinned, replaced by quieter students—some intense, some quiet, most either rich or sponsored.
Their homeroom: Duel Theory and System Optimization.
Rex held the door as Shin walked in, nodding to a few familiar faces.
A redheaded girl at the front glanced up from her card binder. "Shin. Rex."
"Aurora," Rex greeted, sliding into his seat. "Still running Elemental Swarm?"
"Updated the core," she said casually. "Dropped the Stormweavers. Too clunky in low hand games."
Shin raised an eyebrow. "You're entering the tournament?"
"Obviously." She didn't even blink. "A custom deck's worth more than the prize money, long-term."
"Spoken like a Westside investor," Rex muttered.
Behind them, two boys debated the ethics of a trap-heavy build, while a quiet girl with storm-grey hair sat at her own desk, scribbling notes without looking up.
"Tessa Vale," Rex whispered, nodding at her. "Still the most terrifying human alive."
"She's got three contract wins on record," Shin said, sliding into his seat. "No sponsor. No smile."
"Just violence," Rex added with awe.
Tessa glanced their way.
Shin nodded politely.
She didn't respond.
Professor Glavin entered with a gust of wind and a loud clap.
"Alright, pack-rats. Seats. Screens on. Today's lecture—Tournament Meta: Surviving the Prelims."
A quiet wave of anticipation passed through the room.
Glavin summoned a large visual field. A diagram appeared, shaped like a descending pyramid.
PRELIM ROUNDS: 1000 Duelists Per Region Qualify by Win Streak or XP Accumulation Top 10 Duelists per District Advance to Final Arena Final Ten Face Off in Real-Time Broadcast Matches
"This year's format," Glavin said, tapping the pyramid, "will test endurance and adaptability. Prelim duels will follow Standard Regulations—no Contract Duels, no Sin Cards."
Rex whispered to Shin, "So no ghosts that explode the world. Got it."
"Standard Duels," Glavin continued, "follow a 4000 HP cap. Max 40-card decks. Interface-assist ON. That means your HUD can suggest strategies mid-duel if your System Rank is high enough."
He eyed Shin. "Mr. Yukari. What's the summon cap in Standard Regulation?"
"Two Normals, and one Spectral if the conditions are met."
"Correct. And spell activation per turn?"
"Unlimited, unless restricted by card text."
"Excellent. Miss Vale—Trap resolution priority?"
Tessa didn't look up. "Defending player resolves first unless timing effects override."
The professor smiled.
"Good. Keep your brains warm. You'll need them."
As the lesson went on, Rex leaned back and scribbled his own tournament prep list in the corner of his notebook:
•Update Trap Cycle
•Add "Null Lock" to side deck
•Learn to bluff like Shin
•Eat less instant noodles (probably)
He glanced sideways.
Shin wasn't writing.
He was staring at his cards, fingers tracing over the matte black deck holster.
"Hey," Rex whispered.
Shin blinked, looked over.
"You really gonna go for it?" Rex asked. "The whole thing? Final ten?"
Shin looked down for a second.
Then back up.
"…Yeah."
Rex grinned. "Then I guess I better make sure I'm standing beside you at the top."
----
Outside the classroom, other students eyed Shin as they passed. Some nodded. Some whispered. Word of his Contract Duel had already begun to spread.
But Shin didn't care.
Because for the first time in a long time…
He had a direction.
Not just to play.
Not just to climb.
But to win—really win.
And maybe take his future back, one duel at a time.
The school courtyard buzzed with life, especially around the dueling arena just outside the main building. As the lunch bell echoed, students from every class spilled out, many drawn to the raised dueling platform like moths to a neon-lit flame. The familiar shimmer of projected cards and the thrum of holograms flickering to life gave the place a near-electric energy.
Shin, Rex, and Aurora made their way across the courtyard, their bags slung casually over their shoulders as they dodged a few lower-year students testing out basic summoning sequences.
"Everyone's talking about that tournament now," Rex muttered, glancing around at the crowd. "You'd think grades didn't matter anymore."
"They don't," Shin smirked. "Not when winning that prize could get you out of the Westside."
"Or into even more trouble," Aruora muttered under her breath, arms crossed.
They stopped just short of the dueling platform where a crowd had gathered—half-watching a casual duel in progress, half-engaged in a loud, ongoing argument about the current meta.
"I'm telling you," said a tall student with a visor over his eyes, "Warrior Archetypes are making a comeback. Knights are undervalued, and their support cards got buffed last month."
A girl across from him, twirling a wand-shaped duel stylus, scoffed. "Warriors are too linear. Spellcasters dominate because they've got variety and control. Glaciermaids alone can freeze a whole board in three turns."
Another chimed in. "Nah, y'all are sleeping on Dragons again. One turn and they're everywhere."
That's when Shin stepped forward, hands in his pockets.
"Funny," he said. "All I've been seeing lately is Fiend decks dominating. You don't need a lot of flash when your cards hit like a truck and play dirty."
That got a few looks.
"Fiends?" one student said. "Really?"
Before anyone else could jump in, a voice cut through the crowd like a winter breeze.
"Fiends are overrated."
Tessa Vale. Confident. Clean-cut. Cool-toned hair that shimmered with icy highlights. She stood with her arms crossed, a Glaciermaid pendant resting just above her collar.
"They haven't been meta in years," she said, stepping up beside the platform. "Sure, back in 2050 they were hot, but now? Any solid Light deck wipes them out by turn four. Especially when you compare cost-to-effectiveness. My Glaciermaids make most Fiend-types look prehistoric."
Shin didn't flinch. "Guess we'll have to disagree on that."
A smirk curled at the corner of Tessa's lips.
"Or," she said, reaching into her duel pouch and pulling out her Duel Gauntlet, "we could just settle it."
She slid her Glaciermaid deck into place with a satisfying click.
"My Glaciermaids versus your Fiendlings."
The crowd instantly reacted, the tension flipping like a switch.
"Oh damn, she challenged him."
"Shin's really gonna try Fiends against Ice types?"
"Bold move…"
Shin gave Rex a look. Rex just raised a brow, clearly enjoying the moment.
"Guess we're dueling during lunch, then," Shin muttered with a grin.
He stepped onto the platform and slotted his deck in, the Sin card pulsing faintly within the slot. His Duel Gauntlet flickered to life, casting projections across the arena.
Tessa mirrored his movements, her own icy-themed holograms shimmering in white and light blue.
As the Duel Arena hummed and locked into place, the announcer AI voice echoed out:
"Casual Duel detected. No Contract. No XP. No wager. Best of one. Duelists—ready."
Tessa gave him a look that said she was already counting her win.
But Shin?
He just cracked his knuckles.
"Let's see if you can actually back that talk up."
The duel was on.
The Duel Arena's platform shimmered with holographic overlays as the announcer's voice echoed across the courtyard.
Shin rolled his wrist, flexing his fingers. Tessa lifted her stylus, Glaciermaid deck already shimmering with a faint blue frost.
Just as Shin reached for his first card—
A sharp whirrrk filled the air.
The platform lights dimmed, then flickered red. An automated chime blared twice from the arena's edge.
"WARNING: Arena Cooling System Offline. Duel Sequence Aborted."
Tessa frowned. "What now?"
A nearby faculty aide, holding a datapad and looking mildly irritated, walked briskly over to the control panel.
"Platform's throwing a thermal sync error," he muttered. "No duels until maintenance clears it. Try again tomorrow."
The crowd groaned in unison.
Tessa narrowed her eyes as the holograms faded into nothing. "You've gotta be kidding me."
Shin stepped back with a shrug, half-smirking. "Saved by the server."
"Saved from embarrassment, maybe," she said, unclipping her duel gauntlet.
He tilted his head. "We'll find out soon enough. You know where I sit."
The crowd began to disperse, some disappointed, others relieved. No explosions. No ego bruises. Just another broken machine pretending to be flawless.
Rex nudged Shin as they walked off. "You two gonna flirt or fight next time?"
Shin rolled his eyes. "We don't flirt Rex."
Aurora fell into step with them, arms crossed as she glanced back at the frozen duel platform. "A whole courtyard full of duelists and they still can't keep the tech running. Figures."
"Guess they spent all the money on golden trees and coffee that tastes like moonlight," Rex muttered.
---
Later that day, the sun dipped just low enough to paint the Westside skyline in soft gold.
The trio walked together, a quiet calm settling in after the failed duel. The campus behind them buzzed with post-class chatter, but here on the private residential lane leading to Aurora's apartment tower, everything felt… peaceful. Almost too clean. The sidewalk even smelled expensive.
Aurora's building rose ahead of them—sleek and glinting like a monument to money, every floor shimmering in the dying light.
"You ever wonder," Rex said, kicking a pebble along the curb, "what it'd be like if we weren't born in the Eastside?"
Shin stuffed his hands in his pockets. "You mean rich?"
"I mean comfortable," Rex replied. "Not wondering if the power bill's been paid or if our deck limit's getting cut again next month."
Aurora glanced at them, her tone softer than usual. "It's not always perfect here, you know."
Shin raised an eyebrow. "You've got a window that changes colors depending on your mood."
"And a shower with built-in music settings," Rex added, mock offended. "You named your water temperature."
"His name's Kelvin," she said with a slight smile.
They all laughed.
But then the silence lingered for a moment.
"What would you be doing," Shin asked, "if you weren't dueling?"
Aurora paused. "Music, probably. I used to play piano. A lot. Before my sponsor wanted me to 'focus.'" She made air quotes.
Rex blinked. "You play piano?"
She nodded. "Mostly classical. I still sneak in a session when my parents aren't around."
"That's… actually really cool," Shin said.
"You?"
Shin looked away, thoughtful. "Used to paint. Like, real stuff. Landscapes. Skies. I was obsessed with clouds for some reason."
"I remember that," Rex said. "You filled up an entire notebook with sky paintings."
Aurora tilted her head. "Do you still?"
"…Not lately." He smiled faintly. "Dueling's louder. Easier to lose yourself in."
Rex scratched his chin. "I'd probably be a food critic."
"You already eat like one," Aurora quipped.
"Exactly. But imagine getting paid for it."
They reached the gate to her building. A security drone scanned Aurora's ID and hummed politely as the entrance slid open.
She turned to them. "Thanks for walking me."
"Yeah, yeah," Rex said. "Just don't forget to invite us in when you hit the finals and move into a penthouse."
"Only if you bring your piano to play at my victory party," Shin added.
Aurora smiled, brushing a strand of red hair behind her ear. "Deal."
And with that, she vanished into the lobby, the door hissing shut behind her.
---
Back on the Eastside, the sky was darker, the colors duller. Everything felt heavier.
Shin and Rex took the long way home—past a crumbling train overpass, through a market alley still lit with buzzing neon. The scent of oil-fried noodles clung to the air.
Their apartment building was a block of stacked concrete. Home.
Inside, the lights were already on.
Yui lounged on the couch with a VR visor on, deep in a fantasy sim. Naomi was halfway through braiding Juno's hair at the kitchen table, both of them laughing softly at something on Juno's holopad.
"Hey," Naomi said without looking. "You guys eat yet?"
"Not unless duels count as food," Rex replied.
"Good. I made dumplings."
Shin headed for the hallway, half-listening as Juno asked if anyone had seen her lucky card sleeve.
Their place was loud, crowded, and full of warmth.
Shin slipped into the bedroom he shared with Rex. It was small—bare walls, a bunk, scattered duel gear, a desk that doubled as a build station.
He dropped his bag, sat at the edge of the lower bunk, and pulled up his HUD.
A soft chime rang out.
[1 New Notification]
CONTRACT DUEL INVITE – SENDER: UNKNOWN
Status: Pending
Category: Unranked / Open Terms
Accept | Decline
He stared at the screen for a long moment, his reflection caught faintly in the glow.
"Who the hell…?" he muttered.
No origin tag. No ID trace. Just a stark black screen with a pulsing outline of a duel card.
Rex called from the other room. "Yo, Shin! You want the last dumpling or what?"
Shin closed the HUD for now, the request still hovering just behind his eyes.
"…Coming."
He stood, leaving the glow behind as the screen faded to black.