THE PLACE: THE PART OF MINNESOTA GENERALLY REFERRED TO AS "THE TWIN CITIES". IT INCLUDES BOTH MINNEAPOLIS AND ST. PAUL. NEAR THE LATTER IS BLOOMINGTON.

THE EVENTS: GERALD LAXINA HAS JUST KILLED THE PILLAR OF DEATH, RESTON, AND DEFEATED THE DARK CONDUIT - WHO HE HAS FINALLY ADMITTED IS HIS BROTHER, ALEXANDER LAXINA. AFTER HIS DEFEAT, ALEXANDER LAXINA MOCKED HIS BROTHER FOR THINKING THE FIGHT WAS OVER AND SHOT HIM IN THE STOMACH WITH A PISTOL. GERALD SURVIVED, BUT IS NOW IN CRITICAL CONDITION.

THE SITUATION: THE CHOSEN OF THE LIGHT IS IN SEVERE DANGER, HIS ALLIES ARE IN DISARRAY, MUCH OF MINNESOTA BELONGS TO THE DARKNESS, AND ALTHOUGH THE PILLARS ARE DEFEATED, THE HAND OF DARKNESS AND THE DARK CONDUIT HAVE OTHER PLANS.

THE ASSESSMENT...

THE PRIME MATERIAL IS SO MUCH FUN!

Chapter Thirty-Two: World Rent Asunder

Static filled the air in the Mall of America men's room, and the four men gathered within it - Ulysses Cartnell, Chad Montmelier, Sol Kilkarn, and Demetrius Lark - could smell a vague scent of ozone on the room's air.

"Ugh," Demetrius groaned.

Ignoring him, Sol announced, "That must be the portal opening! Everyone get back a few steps, give Gerald some room!"

The men stepped back, Chad shifting the bag of Gerald's clothing in his hands. In front of them, a thin black line drew itself horizontally in the air, from one of the sinks to one of the stalls. It irised out, unfolding into a black, swirling hole in the air. Black energy crackled around it, and then something emerged.

With a sick smack, Gerald Laxina fell out of the portal onto his back, hand flopping down beside him as he hit the tiles. Blood leaked from his side, and his skin was turning pale. The reason was obvious - a bullet hole gaped in his side.

The portal vanished, and after a second to adjust, Demetrius yelled, "Good lord!"

Everyone in the room shared his sentiments, and they surged forward in a human mass... until Ulysses raised a hand and said, trying to stay calm, "Back away for a moment, I need space."

"What can you do?" Chad asked, his tone just below a screech.

Instead of answering in words, Ulysses took an aloe leaf from his pocket. His hand crushed it, and he knelt beside Gerald, pants staining themselves in the spreading pool of blood. The hand with the aloe pressed against the gunshot wound, and he began to chant in a language most modern humans did not know existed.

Green light shone from under Ulysses's hand, and the bleeding suddenly stopped, the wound retracting a bit under his touch.

As the old man stood up, adjusting his coat, the onlookers just stared, and then Sol said, "What... did you just do?"

"My forefathers were druids, and we have preserved magic that predates the building of Stonehenge," Ulysses replied. "That spell amplified the power of the aloe leaf and encouraged his body to stop bleeding." He then frowned. "But it didn't actually cure the injuries. We need to get him to a hospital!"

"What hospital?" Chad asked, his expression grim. "The Darkness Infection shut down every business and service in the area! The hospital's just another source of Infected!"

His patience gone, Ulysses shouted, "Then let's at least get him off the floor! I can't work anything that will heal him in a place like this!"

"Gentlemen!" Demetrius yelled loudly enough for both of them to hear. "Let us get Mr. Laxina back to the hotel for now. We can discuss further options there. Just standing around sniping at each other is wasting time he does not have!"

A moment passed, during which everyone involved cooled down, and then they nodded. Gathering around Gerald, the four men hefted his unconscious form up and carried him out of the restroom.

Even though people had awoken and were now milling around the Mall of America, nobody stopped to question why four men, one of whom had blood stains on his pants, were carrying an unconscious, bloody young man with a bullet wound in his stomach towards the parking lot. They all decided that the situation was not one they could actually affect.

0000000

Just once, Oliver Laxina thought as he set down his fork, I'd like to have a microwaveable meal where the packaging doesn't taste better than the food. He sighed, getting up and stretching his back. The last week in St. Paul had proven very odd, indeed, but at the least his food supplies were holding up.

Thinking of the time passed caused him to think of the date, and he sat back down, sighing again. Five years... I haven't heard from Alexander in that long. I don't know what made him go after Gerald like that, but you would think five years would be enough time to recover from it.

His train of thought cut off as his cell phone rang, and he tilted his head. Picking it up, he glanced at the front of it and frowned - it wasn't a number he recognized. One hand flicked it open, and he pressed it to his ear, saying, "Who is this?"

"Pardon ze intrusion, Monsieur Laxina, but zis is important..."

"Lucifer Allumette?" Oliver said in confusion, eyebrow raising. "How did you get my number?"

"You are better off not knowing, and I doubt I could explain it to any real degree. But zat is beside the point, and I do not have long. Go to ze Minneapolis Hilton now - your son is in grave condition."

The phone nearly fell out of Oliver's hand. He caught it, pressed it to his ear, and wiped the sweat off of his forehead as he went pale. "Are you sure?"

"I am afraid so, Monsieur Laxina."

"But... How am I supposed to get to Minneapolis? I'm in St. Paul without a car."

"Desperate times, my friend. Ze blue Pontiac in ze motel parking lot has its keys in ze ignition. You can apologize after ze situation settles down."

A low chuckle left Oliver's throat as he thought about it. "Faye would never let me get away with this," he muttered.

"And my late Fabrizia would agree wiz her. But zat is irrelevant. I must go now. Get to ze Hilton as quick as you can."

"All right. Goodbye." Oliver flipped his phone shut and shook his head, thinking, Gerald... be safe. Your mother would never forgive you otherwise.

0000000

Lucifer opened his eyes, cutting off his connection with the cell phone, and only then dared to look around his current location.

After his violation of the rules, the forces of Dreams had plucked him from the Prime Material and dragged him through the dimensional barriers without any delay. Now he was seated on a small glass circle, and all around him glowed the landscape of the world of Dreams, the Uncertain Landscape - Mythos.

From where he was sitting, Lucifer could see a soft pink landscape, roiling beneath him and slowly warping around his position. The trick to Mythos was that it was a psychotropic plane; it reacted to the thoughts and will of those passing through it. However, the glass he sat on isolated his mind from the plane, and so it merely roiled until such time as another came to collect him.

Lucifer's condition was nothing to envy, either. He had managed to send the message to Oliver under the same rules that allowed prisoners a phone call; other than that, his powers were gone. The reason why had to do with the length of black chain wrapped up his arms, looped and locked around his wrists and elbows. A pair of black anklets complemented the chain, and a steel collar sat around his neck. All of these locked him in his human form and prevented use of any of his powers.

As he stewed on the glass circle, the Beloved of Fire could see the landscape begin to flatten out and turn into a field of flowers - tulips, from the looks of it. The sky overhead faded to a soft blue, and a gentle sun was shining.

Lucifer groaned. Why must the guard always do this? he thought, hanging his head. It only makes it look condescending.

The shifting land came to a halt directly in front of the glass, and a humanoid figure rose up from beneath the ground. It had subtle feminine traits, made visible by the sheer silk robes it wore, but whether or not the figure was a woman was impossible to tell - its face was hidden by a white mask with two red eyes painted on it. Delicate hands rubbed against each other.

"Lucifer Allumette," the figure said in a lilting falsetto, setting a hand to its chest. "My, my... we've done a naughty thing, haven't we?"

"Spare me your niceties, Ralcietto, One who Watches Over the Fantastic," Lucifer said, climbing slowly to his feet. "Neither of us are in ze mood for it."

Adjusting its mask, Ralcietto shook its head, sighing. "I suppose you're correct. But really, Lucifer... breaking the Balance's own rules? Do you have any idea what you set off?"

"I have ze feeling you're about to tell me."

"Lucifer, I have to take you to the Awakened." The One circled a hand over its chest, head lowered, before it continued, "What you did... even the Dreaming Perfection is mad at you. They're talking oblivion."

Both of Lucifer's hands gripped the other until their knuckles turned white, and he began to sweat, whispering, "The Awakened? Are you certain, Ralcietto?"

With a groan, Ralcietto stepped onto the glass circle and gestured towards the far interior of the land. The circle began to float towards it, and then the One nodded to its passenger. "You've made a big mistake, Lucifer," it said.

"It was in ze name of friendship," the prisoner muttered back.

"You have better hope it was worth it."

0000000

After waking up, Laura had taken a quick shower and changed into another of the outfits she had purchased - judging by the cable channels in the hotel room - the day before. Once that was over with, she had headed out of the hotel, waiting for Chad and Gerald to come back and to see what they were going to do next.

Even though it was the end of June, the day seemed somewhat cold and forbidding. Clouds rolled in front of the sun, and a frigid breeze crossed in front of the Minneapolis Hilton, causing Laura to shiver in her white button-up blouse and red denim pants. Her hair was still a little wet, and she ran her fingers through it unthinkingly, checking for tangles.

Two cars approached the building, and she jumped slightly, turning to them as they approached. One was the Corolla, which she was very familiar with, and the other... She wasn't sure exactly what type of car it was, but it was far out of her economic spectrum. Both cars parked, and she approached them.

Chad climbed out of the Corolla's driver's seat, and Demetrius Lark slid out of the other car, a young man she didn't know sliding out of the passenger side. All three men went to the back of the Corolla, and Chad yelled to Laura, "We could use your help! Something went seriously wrong at the Mall!"

Laura could not remember actually moving. All she knew was that, once Chad had said that, she was standing beside him and asking, "What happened? And who's the curly-haired guy?"

Said man with curly hair replied, "Sol Kilkarn. Long story, but I'm on your side."

The group opened the back doors of the Corolla, and then, to Laura's surprise, Ulysses stepped out. And then...

As one, the men slid Gerald Laxina out of the back of the car, carefully lifting him into their massed arms. The Chosen of the Light laid limply in their grasp, arms dangling and a large hole in his side.

Laura wanted to yell, but her vocal cords did not respond, and she couldn't get the part of her brain that controlled her mouth to work. Her eyes were wide and refused to blink as they took Gerald from the car.

Turning to her, Chad frowned and said, "Get the door."

She did so without any comment, and the group moved into the building. Laura followed them, mind still in shock.

None of them saw the blue Pontiac pull into the hotel's parking lot a moment later.

0000000

After the duel, time had blurred for Alexander. He knelt in the blank room, staring into the spot where he had shoved his brother's body into the ground, his eyes empty and dry. Nothing registered to his field of vision.

Minutes passed. They linked together, and it was perhaps a half-hour later before he realized someone was standing beside him. He turned his head, and then shut his eyes, wincing as air passed over the dry corneas. Once they were back in good condition, he looked the visitor over. It was a thin, pale man with a bald head and sunglasses, dressed in a black suit, arms crossed.

"Alexander?" the man asked.

Only then did Alexander remember who this was. "You're... Degas, right?" he said, rubbing the back of his head. "It's... a long time's passed, hasn't it?"

"You're not the Alexander I'm talking to," Degas said, pushing his sunglasses back up. "I'm talking to the Alexander who accepted the Dark Conduit three years ago, not the one I had to ferry around the United States for a year in order to find it. That Alexander I have no desire to talk to."

Again Alexander closed his eyes, rubbing them before he muttered, "Wait... what year is it?"

Degas sighed, a sound like wind through a cemetary's gates, and then grabbed the back of Alexander's head. "Hell with it," he muttered, and black energy crackled around his hand.

It felt like a thousand cold fingers were digging through the young man's brain, and he screamed, fists clenching... and then everything made sense again, and his memories returned. Now he remembered where he was and what had happened. Why he had forgotten he wasn't sure.

With a grunt, the Dark Conduit stood up, brushing off his knees. "Sorry about that," he said, stretching his arms. "It must have slipped a little. I hate it when it disconnects."

"It's a nuisance, isn't it?" the Hand of Darkness replied, adjusting his sunglasses. "I assume you settled the problem?"

"Would you believe he actually defeated me?" Alexander said as the two stepped out of the blank room. Degas snapped his fingers, and the door disappeared behind them, the room beginning to collapse. The man in green continued, "Still, a bullet to the stomach works as well as one to the heart..."

The man in black raised a hand, interrupting, "You missed his heart?"

"He stood up at the last second. My aim was thrown off. Whether or not he dies, he has to recover, and that takes him out of the equation for a while."

"Let us hope you speak the truth," Degas said as they walked on. "We're nearing the critical moments. Outside interference can't be tolerated at this point."

Alexander nodded, reaching out to open the next door. Both walked through it, entering the mirror room.

There they stopped, however, because something that neither had expected was happening. Bethany stood in the center of the room, her back to the mirrors and her arms crossed. Her expression verged on a frown, but couldn't quite manage it, try as she might. Once Alexander came through the door, she looked at him with a firm stare.

Rubbing the back of his head, Alexander muttered, "Hello, Bethany... you seem... determined right now..."

The young woman turned to Degas, bowed her head, and said, "Degas." She then turned to Alexander and said, "We need to talk."

"The four most terrifying words in the English language," Degas muttered.

The man in green ignored that, saying to Bethany, "What about?"

"Ever since you let me out of the pillar," Bethany replied, "the two of you have discussed your plans and your activities... They all seem to be focused at something, but..." She paused, took a breath, and then continued, "But I have no idea what it is. You just keep saying 'our goal' or 'the plan'. I have no idea what you're talking about."

The man in black and the man in green stared at each other, and then Degas laughed softly, shaking his head. "She's got a point," he said, raising his hands. "We've had this planned for so long now that we never need to refer to things by name. Both of us know what we're talking about, but she doesn't."

"The dangers of working together for too long," Alexander replied, shaking his head. "Either way..." He turned to his girlfriend and said, tone turning serious, "Bethany... I've kept it from you because I'm afraid. This is not a plan most people would condone. A few years ago, I would have thought of it as 'evil'. We aren't indulging in sweetness and joy here; you might be scared by it. Are you absolutely sure you want to know?"

Defiance sparked in Bethany's eyes, something that Alexander was not used to seeing there; it barely edged out the usual concern. "I'm more afraid that something will happen to you and I won't even know what," she said, her arms crossing a bit tighter. "Tell me... tell me what you're doing here."

The Hand of Darkness and the Dark Conduit turned to each other, and then both men sighed. "No use fighting with her, is there?" Degas asked.

Alexander shook his head. "Not when she gets like this."

Both men turned back to Bethany, and Degas said, "Very well. This will be better with visual aids, so please turn your attention to the mirrors..."

0000000

A few minutes of negotiation between Ulysses and the security guard had ended with the group obtaining several more room keys for the Minneapolis Hilton, and thus there was a bit of room-shuffling. Right now, the group occupied three rooms, side by side; they had moved Gerald into the room on the left, and Ulysses was currently with him, preparing a spell to finish healing his wounds. The room on the right was set aside for Ulysses and Sol to stay in.

The central room, meanwhile, was the original room that Gerald and Chad had occupied. Right now, Chad, Laura, Demetrius, and Sol were gathered around the table in the corner, pooling what information they had. There wasn't much of it, but they still shared it.

Laura, having spent the entire time Reston was loose unconscious, had little to say. Chad related what he could of what he had seen, which still wasn't much.

Demetrius, however, had a considerable amount of events to describe. He skimmed over his duel with Mako Tsunami (while interesting, it had little to do with the situation at hand), and then went over his discovery of Gerald's Infected form and his taking on the Darkness Infection. After a few moments for everyone to get over their shock, he discussed how he had taken the Infection himself, and ended with, "As I awoke, Gerald and Lucifer were both gone. I have no idea what happened after that."

"So... The evidence leans towards Gerald defeating Reston, but where did he go after that?" Chad questioned. "And who shot him?"

No answers were forthcoming, and the group as a whole decided to move on before the wondering drove them insane.

It was Sol's turn to speak, and while he didn't have anything to say about Reston or the Mall of America events, he did have something of worth: "Father Young is on our side." He waited for the surprise to quell, and then described his duel with the priest and the aftermath.

"Where is Father Young now?" Laura asked.

Sol shook his head, brushing his curls out of his eyes. "I have no idea. He walked away after our duel and I didn't follow him. He probably went to confront Degas and Alexander himself... assuming he survived, I can't be sure of where he went after that."

"From how you describe him," Demetrius said, interlacing his fingers in front of himself, "if he is still alive, I would start looking for him around the churches or other sites of importance to the Light... and given what's happened in this city, that would likely be the spots that the Pillars were defeated at."

Chad extended his fingers one after the other as he recited, "The Cathedral of St. Paul, the Guthrie Theater, the High Bridge, and presumably the Mall of America. The ruins in downtown Minneapolis are probably another spot, as Sol met him there and they mark where Jacob Waterknot was killed."

The group nodded, and then Laura turned to Chad and said, "So... what do we do now?"

Sweat beaded itself on the tall man's forehead, and he wiped his face off with the back of his hand, saying, "Why are you asking me?"

"You came to this city with Gerald," Sol answered. "That gives you the closest thing we have to senority in this little group. Gerald is currently incapacitated, so it falls onto you to make the next move."

After a moment's stammering, Chad began to drum his fingers together. "But why can't Demetrius or Ulysses make the decision? They're older than I am... and presumably wiser..." He wiped his forehead again. "Right?"

Demetrius shook his head. "Ulysses is too busy keeping Gerald alive," he said. "As for myself, I am afraid I cannot assume authority. A celebrity I am, but a general I am not."

"So... boss?" Laura asked, leaning towards Chad slightly. "What is our next action?"

Laura, I think I hate you, Chad thought. Aloud, he intoned, "Ummmmm..." What would Gerald do?

And then it hit him, and he sighed in relief. Standing up, he leaned on the table, using his height to his advantage. "Sol, you go with Demetrius. Take Lucifer's car... much like you did to get here... and search this city for Father Young. We've just discussed where to start looking, so use that as your guideline. If you can't find him, come back here and we'll work out what to do next. Laura and I will stay here and wait for Gerald to recover. Until the Darkness makes its next move, we have no way to strike at them, so our hands are tied. Understand?"

As Chad sat back down, Sol and Demetrius glanced to him with a hint of surprise, and then stood up and bowed, replying, "Yes, sir! Let's go!" They left in unison, and the door shut behind them.

Laura blinked a few times, and then said, "Wow. Commanding." She then paused, and added, "But why did you sound like Gerald?"

"I was impersonating him," Chad confessed.

0000000

Sol Kilkarn shut his eyes as he and Demetrius Lark headed for the elevator, a sigh passing his lips. How did it come to this? he thought. Gerald is critically injured, the Pillars are gone, and now I'll heading into the city with the American Number One, looking for a man who until two days ago was our enemy. The situation is changing faster than I can keep up with.

Demetrius, meanwhile, thought, Natalie would go berserk if she saw me like this. Risking my life - not just my title but my life - to help a bunch of kids shut down the Darkness and rescue the world. I guess they were right when they said taking up a Duel Disk came with an obligation to save the world at least once. I've come a long way from Alabama...

As the two men walked along, an older man stopped them in the hallway, hands in his pockets. He looked like an older, weathered version of Gerald, with graying brown hair and a noble demeanor. He wore a light brown suit, and there was a brown trenchcoat over it. "Excuse me," he said with a tired tone of voice, "but which room is Gerald staying in?"

"And why do you want to know?" Sol asked, suspicious.

In response, the older man took out his wallet, opened it and tipped it towards them. His driver's license was visible, identifying him as Oliver Laxina.

The duelists recoiled, and then Sol stammered, "Sorry about that, sir! I didn't know you were his father!"

"Forgiven," Oliver said with a calm smile. "Which room is he staying in?"

Demetrius sighed, gesturing down the hall. "Three doors down. But you may not like what you see."

"As I expected..." Oliver sighed, and then nodded. "Thank you. Good luck with your quest."

"Thank you," both duelists said before the men headed their separate ways.

0000000

Graffiti still marked the walls of the Cathedral of St. Paul, and its furnishings were still scattered about all over the place. But as light filtered in through the stained glass, a calm aura hovered over the wreckage, and the altar still stood unmarred. With the defeat of Jean-Vic Viper, the Darkness had released its hold on the church, and peace reigned within its walls.

In front of the altar, an aging man in a black jacket and pants knelt on the floor, hands clasped before him and a cross dangling before his white shirt. Whispered prayers left his lips, and his eyes were shut, mind focused on repeating words he had said five thousand times before. Even now, two days after shedding the darkness from him, the light made him shiver slightly as he knelt there.

"Amen," Father Young finally said before slowly rising, dusting off his knees. They were beginning to ache, and he frowned at that, thinking, I hope it's not arthritis. At my age it's getting to be too real a possibility... He crossed himself and sighed.

Two days ago, he thought further, I tried to reenter the lair of Degas and Alexander... but they've sealed the door against me. By now they will likely order any servants they have to hunt me down... The Pillar of Death was defeated this morning, I sensed that much. They never told me any of their plans after the Pillars, so I'm not even sure what to look for.

A low rumbling vibrated through the air of the cathedral, and Father Young looked around, trying to place it. One hand settled around his cross as he placed his other hand to his chin. What he had left of his dark powers was causing static to buzz across his mind.

Something lowered down from the ceiling, coming to rest behind the altar before rising to its feet. At first it seemed to be impossibly generic, but after a moment its features and limbs shaped themselves into a more recognizably "shaped" shape. It appeared to be a tall, strong man of about 30, with short hair the color of clay and sallow gray skin. "He" wore a tight red satin shirt and black leather pants, and a black denim jacket hung off of his shoulders. His eyes were... iridescent; all the colors of the rainbow played across them.

"You... you're Father Emil Young, correct?" the newcomer said, his voice low-pitched and flat.

The priest frowned, crossing himself before saying, "That's what I call myself, yes. And you are?"

"A friend of an enemy... but don't think of me as your enemy just because of that, Father. I understand you chose to reject the Darkness some two days ago, correct?"

"It was the wisest decision I have ever made," Father Young replied. "What? Are you here to talk me back into it? If so, foolishness."

The newcomer shook his head, his eyes flickering as he did so. "I would never have so blatant a purpose," he said. "I simply want... to show you the truth behind truths."

"What on Earth is that supposed to mean?" the priest asked, holding up his cross. "Is that some sort of doubletalk?"

Again the newcomer shook his head, but this time he chuckled. "I am no vampire, Father. They may well be extinct by this point, anyway. And even if I was... your faith is a shallow thing. I would not have flinched."

The cross fell from Father Young's fingers as he frowned, thinking, He's right... I don't know what to believe.

One of the stranger's hands lifted, and he said, "You seek truth, don't you? Once you believed in the Church, but that has passed. Then you believed in Degas and Alexander, but they lied and deceived you. You still want to know what to believe, yes?"

How much does he know about me? Father Young thought. He is Darkness, I can sense that, but so far he looks right through me. I... don't have a real choice. "I do... but what 'truth' are you going to show me?"

"The truth at the center of this dispute," the stranger told him. "The truth of the Balance and the reality of the universe. Everything that you wanted to know, I can tell you. I will not lie. I have no reason to."

Foreboding settled into the priest's mind, and he contemplated the offer. I... I want to know. But I only have his word that he won't lie... This could just be the Darkness's attempt to lead me back to their side. Blinking, he then thought, Damn it all, Emil. You had the willpower to give up the power the Darkness gave you when you realized their way was a lie. You have the willpower to take this offer and reject the gifts if they aren't true. No more deliberation and hand-wringing.

"Show me," he said.

Holding up his hand, the stranger waved it up and over, revealing a rip in the air. This widened, becoming a black portal hovering unsupported. With a bow, the stranger gestured towards it. "It's all on the other side."

After a moment to cross himself, Father Young stepped into the portal. The stranger followed, and it sealed itself behind them.

All that remained was a trail of smoking footprints where the strange man had walked.

0000000

With Sol and Demetrius absent and Ulysses watching over Gerald in the next room, there was little if anything for Laura and Chad to do. The two took up positions on opposite sides of the room, bent over their decks and sorting through their cards. It kept their minds off what had become of their comrade in arms.

Chad had just finished one look-through when he paused, frowned, and looked through the cards again, blinking. His frown deepened, and he muttered, "Could I have changed that much?"

"What's the matter, Chad?" Laura asked, straightening out her deck and sliding it back into the Duel Disk.

"Totem of the Merciful Lion," he replied, tapping his deck. "My Heaven's Gift... it's gone. I've just gone through my cards twice in a row and I can't find it. How can I lose a card like that?"

"Are you sure you didn't take it out of the deck and forget about it?"

"Why would I take a card that important out of my deck?"

Before the discussion could go any further, a soft knock came on the door. The two duelists looked to each other, and then Chad slid his deck back into his Duel Disk. The two stood up, slowly moved to the door, and swung it open, prepared to confront whoever was on the other side.

An older man who looked much like Gerald held up his hands, frowning. "I mean you no harm," he told them.

Both Duel Disks fell away, and their wielders let out sighs of relief. "I'm sorry," Chad said. "We just need to stay on guard. You're Gerald's father, right?"

"You remember me," Oliver Laxina said, sighing in relief as well. "I'm afraid I have trouble sticking in people's memories. It's followed me since my high school days." His face then turned serious, and he asked, "Where's Gerald? Lucifer told me something had happened..."

Chad looked to Laura. Laura looked back to Chad. Both looked worried, and neither were willing to speak.

Reading their expressions, Oliver lowered his head, quietly saying, "It must be worse than I thought. Please... tell me what happened. I just want to know what happened to my son..."

There was a pause, and then Laura took a deep breath before saying, "You might want to sit down, Mr. Laxina."

The three moved over to the room's table, and they sat down as a group, Oliver holding his head in his hands. His eyes lowered, and he stared at the table beneath him.

Long moments passed before anyone spoke. Finally, gathering his will, Chad spoke: "Someone shot Gerald."

At first it seemed like nothing had happened, and then Oliver folded his arms on the table and dropped his head onto them, sobbing into his elbows. All he could do for the next minute was cry, and all Chad and Laura could do was watch, afraid to touch him.

Once it was over, Gerald's father raised his head, wiping some leftover tears from his face with his sleeve. "Is he still alive?" he asked, his face radiating desperate hope for a positive answer.

"Yes," Chad said as fast as possible, setting a hand on the older man's shoulder. "He's alive, but badly wounded. One of our allies is caring for him in the next room. You can go see him if you want, but he's still unconscious."

"Maybe later..." Another sob left Oliver, and he set his face in one hand for a moment. Taking another breath, he then asked, "Who did it?"

Feeling helpless, Laura raised her hands and dropped them, giving a frustrated sigh. "No clue. They found him in the Mall of America after everything went down, a bullet wound in his stomach."

There was a long silence, and then Oliver shook his head, muttering, "No... they parted badly, but he would never do that... even after five years... He would never..."

Despite thinking he wouldn't want to know, Chad asked, "Who are you talking about?"

"Gerald's older brother."

The younger duelists shot each other a look of shock, Laura's eyes wide. "His... brother?" she asked Oliver.

"Yes... I think you might know who he is. His brother..." The older man turned grim. "Alexander."

The information elicted a simultaneous gasp from both Chad and Laura, and both pitched forward in their chairs, staring at him. "You can't mean-" Chad began.

Interrupting him, Oliver nodded, setting his head on his hands again. "Yes... The same Alexander you're fighting. They haven't spoken for five years, but that doesn't stop my sons from being brothers, does it?" He sighed. "Perhaps it would be best if I told you how things got this way. Do you have any coffee?"

It was a moment before Laura answered. "The machine is by the door."

As Oliver went to get his coffee, the younger two stared at each other again, still feeling a deep sense of shock.

0000000

As Degas and Alexander took up positions on either side of the mirrors, the mirrors themselves glowed and warped, now reflecting a design composed of five circles, four small and one large, formed into a cross shape and joined by glowing lines. The circle on the left was white, the one on the right was black, the one on top was pink and the one on bottom was purple.

"That's the Balance," Bethany said, sitting in Alexander's chair. "Alexander showed me that a long time ago... Looks like it's in alignment."

"In this illustration, yes," Degas replied, adjusting his sunglasses. "But ever since the Second Sundering, thousands of years ago, this is rarely if ever the case. Perfect alignment comes perhaps once a century. Usually, it looks more like this..." He snapped his fingers, and the lines went crooked, the circles moving into staggered positions. "As far as maintaining the Balance goes, minor deviation is unimportant."

Clearing his throat, Alexander picked up the thread: "The sort of imbalance that we need to be concerned about is when one of the facets passes a certain safe point. Nobody is sure exactly where that is, but when it's exceeded..." The Balance shifted on the mirrors, and the lines splintered away as the various circles moved further out of place. Now the center circle was labeled "Chaos".

Bethany nodded, saying, "I understand that. But what is it you two are trying to do?"

0000000

"In 1975 I moved to Germany," Oliver began, sitting down and setting down his coffee cup, "in order to study the nuances of my chosen field. As I told you when we met in St. Anthony Park, I'm a research scientist - I move from company to company as hired, aiding in their R&D departments. Back then I was just out of college, and I needed to round off the edges of my knowledge.

"I arrived in Bonn, back when it was still West German. One of my professors had arranged for me to live with a friend of his, and so I settled in for what I expected to be a quiet and enlightening two years.

"What my host had failed to mention when we exchanged letters beforehand was that he lived just up the street from the Handelhein family. More to the point, he had forgotten to mention that the Handelhein's second daughter was having a party for her twentieth birthday about a week after I had moved in. My host - Dr. Alois Neumann - was a close friend of the Handelheins, and so he brought me to the party with him."

Pausing, Oliver sipped his coffee and added, "When I walked into the Handelhein estate, the first thing I saw was Faye Handelhein, the birthday girl. I was convinced right then that I would never see anything more beautiful.

"Love has a way of blindsiding you, and so it did here. It was a long night until I could take Faye aside and talk to her alone. We spent an hour talking, until her mother noticed her absence and forced her to come back in so that the guests could stop standing helplessly around the cake.

"That was in 1975. On September 7th, 1976, I married Faye Handelhein."

Both of the younger duelists blinked, and then Chad shook his head, thinking, Wait... Gerald told me his mother's name was Faye. Should have seen that coming.

"Twenty-eight years," Laura said aloud, eyes slightly widened. "Ummm... pardon my asking, but how?"

A chuckle left Oliver before he sipped his coffee again, saying, "My wife likes to say she married me so that she could never get bored with where she lived. She knew from the first day that we would be moving a lot, and she didn't mind. Staying in one place too long bores her.

"It took a while for her mother to adjust - after all, an American had swooped in from nowhere and married their daughter - but her father approved of me almost instantly. He was a very interesting man... He had seen the Great Depression and World War II pass by and hardly touch him. Some said he was a son of the Devil; he always just smiled and said that Chaos was scared of him."

Laura and Chad shot each other a look at that.

"In 1977, I finished my studies with Dr. Neumann and prepared to return to America," Oliver continued, noting the look without concern. "Getting Faye out of the country took some doing... but explaining that would require me to discuss international politics as they were in the 1970s, which would bore all of us and not help the story. Regardless, we returned to the United States and I began my career in earnest..."

0000000

"The state of imbalance in recent years has never quite alleviated itself," Degas answered Bethany, "regardless of how much politicking and negotiation the spirits of Light, Darkness, Dreams and Shadow do. It all too easily slides into unbalance, and Chaos reigns. I believe the Balance is outdated..." He shook his head, and the mirrors flickered, returning the Balance to its original state. "But there is a way, a very simple way to correct this problem. It's possible that other followers of the different facets have thought of it before, although I can't find any proof they ever acted on it."

"What would that be?" Bethany now asked, beginning to turn pale. She had an idea, and it made her stomach churn. Her hands pulled towards her shoulders.

Alexander adjusted his cuffs, sweating a little. Bethany... are you sure you can handle knowing this? he thought. He looked to Degas, who stared at him through his sunglasses, and then coughed. "Bethany..." he said aloud. He paused, and then went on, "As it stands, the Balance is only needed because there are four facets - Light, Darkness, Dreams and Shadow. If one of these became powerful enough, the other three would cease to be necessary... They would become part of the strongest one, and the universe would become forever balanced."

There was silence, and then Bethany whispered, "You... you're going to make the Darkness stronger than anything else. You're going to destroy the Balance..."

"That is our goal," Degas stated, nodding. "We're going to make the Darkness so powerful that the Balance will shatter, and nothing can displace it. Not even Chaos. The Darkness will be all there is."

"But how is that going to work?" the girl asked, leaning forward in her chair. "You can't have a universe of nothing but darkness!"

"You can't have a universe of nothing but light, either," Alexander replied, wiping off his forehead. "Nothing can grow or change in a universe of pure light - it burns away and scours clean everything it touches. A universe of pure dreams would be a chaotic, shifting mass, never the same for two consecutive seconds. A universe of pure shadows is a universe of lies, where nothing is what it seems."

"And one of pure darkness?" she prodded him.

Degas spoke up, moving his sunglasses up. "There will be pain," he said. "I will not lie. But with time, the pain would fade. Out of pain comes wisdom, and out of wisdom comes harmony. If any of the moral elements could create a solid world, it would be Darkness." He then chuckled. "No wonder, that - the cardinal element of Darkness is Earth."

Bethany leaned back in her chair, and Alexander moved up to her, hand on her shoulder. "Are you all right?" he asked her.

"I... I think I will be..." The girl took a few deep breaths, hands resting on her knees. After a moment, she asked, "How... will you go about that?"

0000000

As Oliver refreshed his coffee, Chad said, "You know... the more I look at you, the more you resemble Gerald."

"He always did take after me," the older man replied. "His brother takes more after my wife. On that subject..." He sighed and resumed the tale. "In 1979, after Faye and I had just begun to settle into the United States, we received a message from Bonn. Faye's father had died of a heart attack at the age of 68. We were on the next plane to Germany, and arrived with enough time to help her family plan the funeral. I still miss him.

"A few months after we returned home, Faye learned she was pregnant. We were happy about this, as we had wanted children, and my finances were settled to the point that we could afford one. As it progressed, we learned it would be a boy, and we started thinking of names. One day, Faye asked me if we could name our son after her father. I had no objections whatsoever. Together, we decided to give him my grandfather's name for a middle name.

"On June 27th, 1980, our son was born. His name was Alexander Stephen Laxina."

Even though they had expected this, both of the listeners gasped, and then Chad snapped his fingers. "Wait a minute... Today is June 27th. That means it's his birthday!"

"And you said, two days ago, 'Don't forget two days from now'... So this is what you were talking about," Laura added. "So... that's what Gerald said when he told it, 'It's someone's birthday.' And why he was so unhappy about it..."

With a long sigh, Oliver nodded. "Yes... Today he's 25. I never thought things would turn out so badly when I saw him as a baby. Alexander was a beautiful child - he had such soft blonde hair... It darkened to my shade after a few months, but there were still blonde streaks in it. There still are, unless he's dyed it.

"For the next four years, we continued to move from place to place, following my job from one country to another and playing out my career path. I've developed quite a reputation over the years as the sort of man who can walk into a room and isolate just what you're doing wrong. Some people like me for that. Some of them hate me. But I digress..."

Oliver then paused, setting his coffee down and standing up. His audience did as well, and all three of them stretched out. They had, after all, spent the last fifteen minutes sitting down.

Once the kinks were worked out, they sat again, Oliver picking up his coffee before he started to talk again. "In 1985, Faye found out that she was pregnant again. Alexander was more than a little excited at the prospect of a baby brother or sister, as you might expect. When it came time for names, we agreed that this child would be named after one of my parents - whether it would be my mother or father depended on which gender it was. And Faye suggested that we give the baby one of her grandparents's names for a middle name."

"And it was a boy," Chad interrupted. "Gerald Randolph Laxina..."

Nodding, Oliver took another sip of his coffee. "The day he was born, after things calmed down, Alexander came up to me and told me something weird had happened while he was in the waiting room. He said some strange bald man dressed all in black walked up to him and touched his head, saying he was 'the one' and calling him by name, even though they had never met. It seems I should I have made note of that..."

Degas, Chad and Laura thought together.

"Alexander loved his little brother," Oliver continued. "He always wanted to hold and play with the baby. As they grew up, Gerald returned that love. The boys were always close - Gerald took his first steps to hug Alexander..." He chuckled a bit, and then sighed. "We still moved a lot, at least once a year. Alexander adjusted quickly, but Gerald didn't - he could never understand why we would move into a new house and move out before the year was up. And then he stopped caring... and then stopped doing much of anything."

Lowering her head, Laura said, "So... that's why he's so..."

"Lazy," the older man finished for her. "Yes. It's not worth lying about. My younger son grew into a very lazy young man as the years passed. His older brother didn't like that too much - it seemed that a day could not pass without Alexander exhorting Gerald to take more of an interest in life. Gerald, for his part, kept asking Alexander why he couldn't slow down his own pace.

"It came to a head five years ago..."

0000000

The mirrors changed again, revealing an overhead view of the United States. "We started with Minnesota," Degas began, "because... well, if I may speak frankly, Minnesota is the easiest place to start. On the physical level, it rarely draws attention to itself, so we had no need to worry about overwhelming military response before we could get the barrier in place."

"The barrier?" Bethany asked, her head tipping to one side.

With a wince, the man in green rubbed at his shoulder. "We put a force field of dark magic over the Twin Cities once we established this base. As our influence spreads, so does it. It took a lot of dark energy... My shoulder still aches from time to time."

"May I continue?" the man in black asked. On receiving no reply, he nodded and resumed speaking. "On the supernatural front, Minnesota is a very quiet location. There are no places of power here; there aren't any major contact points, like the Gate to Hell near Raleigh, and there are no major loci, like Sakendar Isi in the Rockies. None of the major spirits would notice what we were up to until after we were prepared to deal with them. In short..." He smiled. "This state is spiritually and physically insignificant to any of the major players in the Balance, and thus made a perfect spot for the first strike."

"Look through the records of urban legends," Alexander added. "You never hear of anything on the same level as Mothman or the Jersey Devil; Minnesota has nothing even on the level of Bigfoot. The closest thing to folklore with a foot in this state is Paul Bunyan, and a New York ad agency came up with him back in 1910."

All Bethany did was nod, her eyes still wide as she took in their lecture.

Adjusting his sunglasses agan, Degas resumed, "Once we had established the base, our next step was to cement our hold. That is where the Darkness Infection comes in. We set it off in the center of St. Paul to start with, hoping that the Infected would sweep out those that avoided the initial dose and then take Minneapolis for us. If that failed, we had the Pillars to take up the slack."

"But they failed, didn't they?" she interrupted.

One hand went to Degas's chin, and he scowled. "No matter how much the Darkness twists a person, fools are still fools. The Darkness Infected didn't do a blasted thing for us in the long run, and the Pillars did little better." Taking a breath, he exhaled slowly. "That's why we were forced to let out another dose in the heart of Minneapolis. That took a lot of dark energy we were hoping to invest elsewhere..."

"Still, it meant we now had a firm grip on the Twin Cities," the Dark Conduit picked up as he stood again, dusting off his clothes as he stroked Bethany's hair. "We now needed to spread our control and the barrier with it, so we sent out the packages."

"Packages?" Bethany asked.

Wincing, Alexander said, "Right... you don't know the term. Darkness Infected specially imbued with dark energy and set on a timer; after a short period of time, they release another dose of the Darkness Infection over a ten-square-mile area. We sent them out into the suburbs and to various other towns in the area; by now we control everything in a two-hundred-mile radius from here-"

"But while that sounds impressive," the Hand of Darkness said, cutting his partner off, "we're actually at a standstill. Gerald killed the Pillar of Death, we had to hide the Darkness Infected to keep Sol and Demetrius from dueling them, Father Young has turned against us... All of our primary forms of activity are negated now. However, three years is a lot of time to plan, and so we have another course of action."

Something in Bethany's mind told her to be quiet, that she had heard too much and was making herself dangerous. Normally she would have heeded that message from her inner self, but today she rolled past it, asking, "What would that be?"

Degas and Alexander looked to each other for a moment, as though speaking silently. Degas frowned, but then nodded. Alexander smiled to her after that and said, "We have sent Hanzaki to contact someone important... in Haiti, of all places. Regardless of the outcome, we should be able to obtain a massive amount of dark energy, which we can use to activate our second wave."

"Second... wave?"

Again the two men looked to each other, and then both shook their heads. "All you need to know," the man in black said, "is that whether or not they succeed, we prevail. At the same time we send them out, we will be working on the finale. And once the finale launches... we win."

"And if it doesn't..." The man in green paused, and then shivered, arms wrapping around his shoulders. "There's... the contingency plan."

This time, when part of her mind told her to stay quiet, Bethany listened.

0000000

"Five years ago?" Laura asked, moving her hair out of her eyes as she leaned forward. "That's when my sister's fiance dueled someone who threw his deck away... Gerald picked it up, and that's what started him dueling..."

Nodding, Gerald's father said, "The week before that happened, Gerald and Alexander got into another argument. Alexander was furious with his brother for letting his life pass him by, just as he had felt so many times before. They fought that morning, and I had to separate them before it got any worse. Later that day, I was in the basement, Faye was in the dining room cleaning up after lunch, and Gerald was in the living room, reading... Out of nowhere, Alexander headed downstairs and told Gerald off once again..." He shook his head. "And then he hit his brother across the face before he stormed out of the house."

Laura winced, and Chad asked, "Why would he turn violent? Had he done anything like that before?"

"No... which is something I still don't understand. Alexander had little patience with his brother's laziness, but he had never hit him for it. Faye was horrified, and told him to stop, but Alexander was already halfway out the door. He had bought a car in the last town we'd lived in, and by the time I got upstairs he was already pulling away. He never came home."

"Wait... Didn't you move out?" Laura asked.

Oliver nodded. "A month after Alexander hit Gerald, we moved out of the state. Gerald left his brother a letter and a forwarding address, asking him to come find us and saying he forgave him... But none of us saw him again, at least not until now. For the rest of our time together, until Gerald settled down in Augusta, he would wince every time Alexander's name came up."

The younger two glanced at each other, and then Chad said, "He still does. He has since before we got here."

"After all this time... he still hasn't recovered from that day, five years ago... And now this..." With a long groan, Oliver finished his coffee and said, "Where is Gerald? I... I want to see him..."

"The first room on the right, this side," Laura replied.

Oliver pushed himself to his feet and headed for the door, tears marking his face.

Silence prevailed for several moments, neither of the remaining people in the suite having any idea what to say. It was a while before Chad finally said something, mostly in order to clear the air. "Gerald... everything he told me since he met made it sound like he was an only child... Like I am. He managed to keep it up for a year..." He shook his head, folding his hands in front of himself. "It must have hurt so much."

Laura said nothing, biting her lip softly as she looked to the other room. Both could hear as the door opened, and then a quiet thump, followed by muffled crying. They were not surprised - no father could stand seeing his child like that.

Trying to keep their minds off of it, Chad turned to Laura and asked, "How do you and your sister get along?"

"Jessica and I are really close," she replied, seeing his intention and going with it. "We always were, ever since I remember. Most of my life, we were the only thing we had, so it's only natural."

"Why were you two 'the only thing we had'? Didn't you have parents?"

The look Laura shot him was so filled with implied violence that Chad almost fell out of his chair. He stammered the letter "s" for a few minutes before she said, "Apology accepted." They were silent again after that.

0000000

Across the boundry of reality, the glass circle pulled to a stop, and Lucifer Allumette found himself pulled off it. The shackles around his ankles sprouted a length of long chain, allowing him to walk without giving him back any of his power. He frowned, tugging at the manacles on his wrists. "Rien," he muttered.

Standing next to him, the masked figure of Ralcietto raised a hand, reaching into the pink mist that enfolded the entire area around the two spirits. There was a click, and the mist rolled away, revealing that they were standing on a red carpet.

Lucifer truly started to worry at this point. He had not imagined the carpet into being, nor had Ralcietto. Someone of immense willpower was forming Mythos into this shape, and given their locale, that led to one name.

The mist blew back, and his suspicions were confirmed by what he saw. In front of him stood a gargantuan doorway, its frame shaped from silver and the hinges from crystal. The doors themselves were made of glass, thin sheets that held together with no visible signs of support at all. How they managed to stay in one piece was impossible to tell, but somehow they did. Lucifer knew from observation that an entire army's worth of artillery couldn't shatter the doors. The seal of Dreams, resembling those of Light and Darkness but with subtle differences, was carved into the doorway's center.

Ralcietto reached out and brushed the door with its hand. One by one, the panes flew off of the door, circled around, and landed on the ground beyond the entrance. The door continued to disassemble itself, and the panes formed a bridge, leading out into another bank of pink fog.

"Go forth, Allumette," Ralcietto said, shifting its mask. "And may the Divine protect you."

"At zis rate zat is all I can hope for." With a deep breath, Lucifer stepped onto the bridge, heading out into the distance.

0000000

A loud beeping noise resonated through the lair of the Darkness. It briefly gave pause to Degas, Alexander, and Bethany, until the first of the three snapped his fingers. One hand reached into his pants pocket, and he took out a small kitchen timer, jabbing the off button.

"It's that time already," he said to himself, shaking his head. "I had forgotten how long had passed. Our next step is about to begin."

"What next step?" Bethany asked, feeling herself slip out of the loop again.

With a soft chuckle, Alexander said, "Remember when we mentioned the next wave? We started preparing the first one back when the Pillars were still on the streets. Earlier today we adjusted how much dark energy it was getting, and since then it's grown in leaps and bounds..."

"While Alexander was... 'dealing' with Gerald," Degas said, his voice reflecting the quotation marks within the sentence, "I went down and made the final adjustments. At that point, I set the timer. Now... that time is up. You may not want to look, Bethany."

The air in front of them blurred, and... something emerged. A blur surrounded its body, so Bethany couldn't make out what it looked like in full, but it seemed to have two heads, facing opposite directions. Looking closer, it had two upper bodies to go with it.

Two voices came from the creature in unison as it turned its heads towards Degas: "We have awakened, Hand of Darkness. Where shall we strike?"

"The Minneapolis Hilton," Degas replied. "You should be able to sense your targets when you arrive. Take them aside and deal with them. Remember that we do not need the man alive... but try to take the girl unharmed."

The heads bowed. "We hear and obey." And then the air blurred again, and they disappeared.

"What are-" Bethany began, until Alexander set his hand on her shoulder and waved the other one in the time-honored "Ixnay" motion.

Eyes on the spot where they had stood, Degas smiled, saying to himself, "And with that... the second wave begins."

0000000

With the entity's awakening, the world around the obelisk had begun to reshape itself. The rubble from its base flew out in all directions, and assembled itself like jigsaw pieces, forming beautiful but unnatural structures. Buildings as dark as night sprouted from the ground, and the sky overhead rumbled as red lightning snaked through it, dark clouds gathering.

The entity itself had retreated back into the obelisk, and its eyes were shut, rendering it featureless. Thousands of images from all the known worlds whirled through its head, and it switched from focusing on one to focusing on another with impossible speed, taking everything in at once. Each one vanished as it was perused, only to be replaced by another as the entity caught up on events that had happened during its sleep.

Finally, its eyes opened again, and it spoke to itself: AS I THOUGHT. REALITY NEVER CHANGES. IT JUST ENDURES. It rose from its seat and made its way out of the obelisk, watching as a city built itself around it. AH... JUST LIKE BEFORE. NO MATTER HOW MANY TIMES THEY RAZE GENHINNOM, A SINGLE THOUGHT IS ALL IT TAKES TO REBUILD IT.

Lost in its reverie, the entity barely noted the twinge of sensation that sounded in its head. The twinge still affected it, however, and so it turned its thoughts towards it, extending a hand. Within its palm appeared an image, showing the strange man leading Father Young out of the Cathedral of St. Paul.

HOW ODD, it said. I RECOGNIZE THE SPIRIT, BUT NOT THE MORTAL. I MUST SAY, THAT WAS FORWARD PLANNING ON THE SPIRIT'S PART - I HAD YET TO FULLY AWAKEN WHEN IT BEGAN TO ACT. AND IF THAT MORTAL IS WHAT I THINK HE IS...

A chuckle left the entity's lips. YOU CAN NEVER TRUST HUMANS. EVEN IF THOSE TWO FAIL, I NOW HAVE A... FALL-BACK.

Coming next chapter: In two different worlds, two different battles begin. In the world of Mythos, Lucifer Allumette faces the judgment of the most powerful forces of Dreams, with his continued existence at stake. In the world of man, however, Chad and Laura have no time to worry about him, as the Darkness makes its next move against them. They join forces against it, but as it so happens, their opponents are wielding very... familiar strategies. A tag duel? Perhaps... You will see in Chapter 33, "Reflected Power".