Who Let Him Play Yugioh? (Re-Upload)

By the third time he returned to where he started, Aster was sure—this was a maze.

He couldn’t be certain it was aimed at him specifically, but he had undeniably walked into a trap. A maze in the dark, tangled walls hemming him in like layered shackles.

He tried feeling his way for a while, only to lose his bearings completely. His patience wore thin.

”Come on! Destiny HERO - Malicious!”

A Destiny HERO answered his summon and appeared. Aster swept his arm, and the HERO drove a fist into the wall beside them. Raw power punched straight through, leaving a gaping hole.

Aster stepped through.

”I don’t know who you are, or if you can hear me. But if you think an ambush of this level can deal with me, that’s naive.”

Aster said, voice cool.

”This trick won’t work. You can show yourself.”

His words sank into the darkness like a stone into the sea. No reply.

”Fine.” He shrugged. ”Looks like I’ll have to drag you out myself.”

He gestured again. Malicious roared and punched through another wall. The maze wall was breached again.

Crude but effective—if you can’t find a way out, make one. Keep opening holes in one direction and you’ll get out eventually.

A sound plan.

But after he’d smashed through who knew how many walls and stepped forward again, he froze.

What he saw beyond was nothing like he expected.

It was a workshop.

A bespectacled man sat at a desk, working intently. A silver-haired boy leaned on the desk’s edge, staring at what the man held with shining anticipation.

”Alright, how about this?”

The man with glasses smiled and passed the drawing board to the boy beside him. The child reached out with small hands, and as he saw the tall, handsome hero on the board, his eyes seemed to light up—

”Dad…?”

Aster couldn’t help taking two steps forward, voice trembling.

That was his father. Stepping into this room felt like stepping into a memory from years ago. His father’s smile was so vivid—he could even feel the thrill from his younger self when receiving a hero designed by his father’s own hand—

”No.”

He snapped back, forcing himself to pull free before he drowned in the past, shaking his head hard.

”This isn’t real. It can’t be.”

Aster spun around. The wall he’d just punched through was whole again. No trace of any hole.

He quickly realized the maze wasn’t so simple.

Either he was seeing illusions, and none of this was real, or the maze itself was some kind of supernatural construct, like the barrier of a Shadow Game.

If it were a Shadow Duel, the way out would be to defeat the one who cast it.

If it was some other kind of dark game, the rules could vary.

Like that time in DM when the Pharaoh played the maze of the heart with Shadi, holder of the Millennium Items—the solution was to find the one real room.

Of course, Shadi never did find the real room, because even the Pharaoh himself didn’t know the answer at the time…

”Knights of Hanoi, is it? I don’t know what this trick is, but you picked the wrong target.”

Aster’s voice was ice.

”You think a maze can trap me?”

”You think this would make me panic?”

”You don’t know a thing. You have no idea what I’ve been through!”

Boom!

Malicious smashed another wall.

”I’ll find the exit. I’ll drag you out,” Aster said loudly. ”And you’d better not let me find anything to do with the Ultimate D card, or—”

He stepped into the next room, and his words died. His pupils contracted.

It was a graveyard.

Rain poured.

The young Aster stood alone before his father’s tombstone, his gaze lost and dazed.

A black umbrella appeared above his head.

Aster turned in surprise and saw a man who had come to his side without him noticing.

Sartorius.

”There’s no rain that never stops,” Sartorius said softly. ”Even the strongest storm has a moment when it breaks.”

Aster looked up at him in surprise.

”Just wait,” Sartorius said gently. ”The storm will pass.”

Aster lowered his head.

”But… how long do I have to wait?”

”I don’t know. But until then, I’ll hold the umbrella for you.”

That was his first meeting with Sartorius.

”What are you trying to say?”

Aster shouted.

”You’re trying to claim you know everything about me, about Sartorius!?”

He said it, but he was shaken.

If this wasn’t mental suggestion—if this wasn’t just his brain showing him visions—and was truly some supernatural barrier…

Then how did they know such details?

This scene was from years ago; he was certain only he and Sartorius were there. How could anyone else know?

And what was the purpose of showing him this?

To flaunt the Knights of Hanoi’ omniscience?

No—just a trick. Or maybe it really was only his mind conjuring illusions.

”Hrragh!”

Malicious roared and smashed another wall. Aster pushed forward, but his steps were starting to falter.

He burst out of the graveyard into a new scene. The black night flicked to a glaringly bright interior, so bright he could hardly see at first.

He steadied himself, squinting, and vaguely recognized another moment from long ago. His childhood self sat at a table. A much younger Sartorius sat across from him, flipping a Tarot card.

”The Devil, upright,” Sartorius said. ”Malice, injustice, temptation, bondage—those are its meanings. This is the fate I’m to meet, the ruin that awaits me.

Unfortunately, though I can foresee it, I have no idea what exactly will happen.”

Little Aster listened, bewildered, half understanding.

Then he clenched a tiny fist.

”Then… then if one day you run into a storm, Sartorius—this time, I’ll be the one to hold the umbrella.”

”A big one!”

Sartorius smiled faintly.

”I’ll count on you then, Aster.”

”…”

Aster shook his head hard, banishing the thoughts.

”Why are you showing me this?”

”Come out!”

”Afraid to face me!?”

A voice rose from the dark.

”No need to be dramatic.”

The Knights of Hanoi’ leader, Revolver, stepped out from somewhere in the gloom, walking at an unhurried pace.

”Just reminding you: Sartorius—the friend you promised to lend a hand to—he’s in need right now.”