Turn 9 – Duelist Exterminator
The Exterminator moved with mechanical precision, his motions lacking emotion, but not intent. There was a stillness to him now—like a predator poised to strike with methodical violence.
"I activate Shallow Grave," he intoned flatly. "Each of us summons one monster from our Graveyards in face-down Defense Position."
A dark ripple spread across the field as ghostly energy swirled into two spots. The Exterminator tapped his field.
"I retrieve Marshmallon."
On Yugi's side, the Pharaoh raised a hand, voice laced with confidence, though tinged by the distant sting of uncertainty.
"I choose… my Dark Magician."
The purple-robed figure returned, his form cloaked in shadows. Though face-down, his energy could be felt—familiar, loyal… but subtly restless.
The Exterminator continued. "Next, I activate Double Summon. I summon Double Coston in Attack Mode."
The shadows twisted into a grotesque skeletal creature with glowing red eyes and twin horns, its body surrounded by writhing dark lightning.
[Double Coston – ATK 1700]
The Exterminator's voice was steady, but his eyes flickered with something colder—something hungry.
"Double Coston counts as two tributes for a DARK monster."
He slammed both hands onto his Duel Disk.
"I tribute Double Coston and Marshmallon… to summon—The Wicked Eraser!"
The ground shook.
Lightning cracked from nowhere.
From an ever-growing rift in the sky above, The Wicked Eraser descended like a divine plague.
It wasn't a monster—it was an absence. A black sphere of pure annihilation, surrounded by screaming tendrils of dark chaos that coiled and whipped violently through the air. The sky above the arena twisted, clouds roiling into a dark spiral.
[The Wicked Eraser – ATK ???]
Yugi's eyes widened, breath caught in his chest.
"What is that thing!?"
"It's one of the Wicked Gods," the Exterminator whispered, his voice reverent and void of humanity. "You've heard of the Egyptian Gods? This is their antithesis. Born from the decay of hope. From emptiness."
The Pharaoh clenched his fists.
"How can such a force even exist…?"
The Exterminator smiled darkly.
"It gains 1000 ATK for every card you control."
He raised his hand.
"I activate Ojama Trio! Three Ojama Tokens are summoned to your field in Defense Position!"
A sickly wind blew across the arena. With horrible squeals, three squat, bug-eyed, grotesque gremlins materialized on Yugi's field. Their twisted bodies pulsed with irritating, mocking energy.
The Wicked Eraser pulsed violently, its size expanding with every card that materialized.
[Wicked Eraser – ATK 4000 → 7000]
Yugi's jaw dropped.
"Seven… seven thousand attack points!?"
But a different gaze watched silently from Yugi's field. As the air grew darker, the Dark Magician, still face-down, stirred uneasily. Even veiled from full sight, his aura trembled.
He felt what the Pharaoh had become and he did not like it.
Within the Shadow Realm that connected them, Dark Magician turned toward his master's soul—and what he saw made his ethereal heart heavy.
The Pharaoh… wasn't entirely himself.
There was something off.
A chill of detachment. A ruthless presence. The line between justice and cruelty had started to blur.
Back in the arena, the Exterminator's voice cracked like a thunderclap.
"Wicked Eraser! Obliterate Catapult Turtle!"
The swirling black orb surged forward, its speed tearing the air as it descended like a meteor from some forgotten plane.
The Pharaoh's hand snapped up, eyes blazing.
"I activate Mirror Force! All Attack Position monsters you control are destroyed!"
For a moment, a blast of radiant light surged across the battlefield—a pure wave of reflective energy meant to protect.
But the Exterminator's grin widened.
"Foolish," he muttered, voice like iron. "You think that will work?"
He pointed to the Eraser.
"Trap cards can't affect Divine monsters."
A horrific shockwave roared across the field as the Wicked Eraser punched through the Mirror Force like it was made of paper. The trap shattered.
The Eraser didn't stop.
With an earsplitting BOOM, Catapult Turtle was reduced to molten shards of metal and steam. The shockwave lifted Yugi's coat as he was thrown back a step, teeth gritted, eyes wild with disbelief.
[Yugi LP: 4000 → 0]
And then—the Seal responded.
The air thickened. Glyphs of green light ignited around Yugi's feet, spinning, tightening. The very space around him warped as the Seal of Orichalcos completed its sinister work.
Yugi's expression froze in horror.
"No…!"
The glow of the Seal intensified. Symbols carved in ancient Atlantean script began to spiral toward his body, burning into the air like living fire. He tried to move—but his legs locked, rooted in place by the grip of the magic.
The shadows reached for him.
A spectral scream echoed across the soul realm. The edges of the arena cracked as dark magic began to pull something—someone—away. The Pharaoh's eyes widened in helpless disbelief as the light turned green and the stone circle tightened its hold.
And at the back of the field, in the shadows, Dark Magician stood fully materialized—no longer veiled. His glowing eyes shimmered not with hurt, but with sorrow deeper than time itself.
The Pharaoh looked upon his magician—and saw that pain.
For the first time in ages, he felt shame.
A faint hum rippled through the chaos, and a figure stepped forth from behind the failing barrier: the Exterminator. Cloaked in shadow, his eyes reflected the dying glow of the Seal. Without a word, he approached the Pharaoh, who now stood paralyzed in the center of the collapsing field.
The air seemed to bend around the Exterminator as he raised one gloved hand and reached out—not for Yugi, not for the fading duel disk—but for the Millennium Puzzle.
"No…" the Pharaoh breathed, voice trembling with a rare mortal fear. "Don't touch it…"
He tore away the glove and reached forward with his bare hand, the air around him warping under the pressure of his intent. His fingers closed around the Pharaoh's sacred Puzzle.
Slowly, inexorably, he wrenched the Puzzle free. The chain broke with a metallic snap that sounded like finality itself.
And at the back of the field, in the shadows, Dark Magician stood fully materialized, no longer veiled. His glowing eyes shimmered not with hurt.
The Pharaoh looked upon his magician—and saw that pain.
The green glyphs of the Seal of Orichalcos began to spin faster, the circle drawing inward like a coiled serpent tightening around its prey. A sinister hum grew louder, vibrating through the floorboards of the Kame Game Shop, rattling loose dust from the ceiling. The air crackled with energy too ancient and cruel for this world.
Yugi's body, already slumped to one knee, began to flicker—like a candle losing its flame. His features blurred as if some unseen wind was erasing him from existence.
The Pharaoh reached forward, arm trembling, eyes wide with dread.
"No! Yugi—hold on!"
But before his hand could grasp him, everything stopped.
In the quiet stillness of their shared soul room, Yugi stepped forward from the glowing boundary between spirit and vessel. His form glowed faintly with a white-blue light, soft and pure like moonlight cutting through a thunderstorm.
His eyes met the Pharaoh's—and there was no fear in them.
"Stop," Yugi whispered, his voice gentle, absolute.
The Pharaoh stood stunned. "Yugi—what are you—?"
Yugi smiled—a bittersweet, serene smile—and placed a hand over his chest.
"I sacrifice myself."
A pulse of radiant energy burst from within him, lighting the void like dawn tearing through the dark. Behind him, the shadows of the Seal raged, but they couldn't reach him. Not yet.
The Pharaoh shook his head, his voice cracking, raw. "No. You don't have to do this! Let me—"
But Yugi raised a hand, silencing him—not harshly, but with compassion.
"You won't lose your soul," he said, his voice echoing like a memory. "Not to this. Not because of me. Not because of your anger."
His smile deepened, though tears glittered in his spirit's eyes.
"I've always believed in you, even when you stopped believing in yourself. That hasn't changed. So now… let me believe one last time."
The light inside him expanded, a beacon of courage in defiance of darkness. And as the Seal's final circle closed around his form, his body disintegrated into motes of silver light—willingly.
The Pharaoh dropped to his knees in the soul room, a silent scream echoing in the silence. His fists pounded the floor as if he could shatter the memory of what had just happened.
The Exterminator walked into the empty street, the dueling arena and its burning green glyphs now far behind him. Each step felt heavier than the last. The pavement beneath his boots shimmered from the falling rain, and above, the city's flickering streetlights painted everything in cold yellow hues.
The Millennium Puzzle swung loosely from his hand, catching the occasional light with a mournful glint.
"That was closer than it should have been," he muttered again, quieter now.
There was no malice in his voice. No triumph. Only the ragged sigh of a man who had expected relief and found only emptiness.
"He played the Seal. That was the only reason I won," he whispered, more to the night than himself. "If he hadn't… if he'd held out just a moment longer… he would've drawn his next card, and that would've been it for me."
His voice caught. The words scratched his throat as though they didn't want to be said.
"If he'd used his destiny draw… I would've lost."
He stopped at the edge of the sidewalk and looked back once more toward the closed door of the game shop. Faint light glowed behind the curtains. He imagined the old man—Solomon Muto—still standing there, broken.
"I wasn't strong enough to win on my own," the Exterminator said. "I only won because he used his monsters like sacrificial lambs."
He said it harshly—cold and deliberate—but it didn't come out the way he meant. There was something behind it. Something raw. Bitter.
Because he understood what that meant.
And it reminded him.
Of home.
Of the small apartment where he used to stay between missions. The cracked frame on the nightstand. The smiling boy in the photo. Big eyes. Crooked teeth. Holding a plush Kuriboh too tight against his chest.
His grandson.
A boy who never saw the darkness of dueling. Who only knew the fun of it. Who asked him once, "Do monsters get scared?"
He hadn't known what to say back then. He didn't have the answer.
Now… maybe he did.
His hand tightened slightly around the Puzzle, knuckles pale.
Dark Magician… Catapult Turtle… Beta…
He had watched them all be hurled like tools—discarded by the Pharaoh the moment they served their purpose. The look in Dark Magician's eyes before the final blast haunted him more than Yugi's fading scream.
The Exterminator looked down the long, empty road stretching before him.
He exhaled, breath shaky. The rain touched his cheeks, but it wasn't enough to hide the sting forming in his eyes.
"No more."
He touched his chest.
The tightness was back. Not the kind caused by guilt or regret—but the one that came late at night. The one that made him stop between duels, clutch a bottle of pills, and wonder if the next heart palpitation would be his last.
He looked up, whispering to the rain, "It's over now."
A faint smile crept across his weathered face—small, fragile.
"I can see him. Just once more. Before this damned thing gives out."
The Puzzle weighed heavier in his hand now.
There was no satisfaction in his expression. Only weariness—the kind that settled into the bones of old soldiers who had long outlived their wars. His mechanical demeanor faltered. The rigid posture sagged. His hand trembled slightly.
And for the briefest moment—
A flicker of guilt passed through his eyes.
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