The Battle City Blimp cut through the storm-laden sky like a silver blade, its engines humming beneath the constant roll of thunderclouds.
Jason looked down at the Duel Disk affixed to his arm, a heavily modified model filled with strange circuitry and faint red pulses of light. Nearby, secured under a transparent casing, a bulky machine hummed with eerie rhythm—an experimental device of his own making. Within it, faint shapes moved like smoke: fragments of darkness, pieces of something ancient and waiting.
Then, without sound, the shadows gathered.
A faint ripple of darkness spread across the deck, coalescing into a figure with white hair, pale skin, and a cruel smile. His eyes gleamed crimson in the dark as he stepped from the fog—the spirit of the Millennium Ring, the darker half of Bakura.
Bakura tilted his head slightly, his tone smooth and taunting, the glint in his eyes sharp as a blade.
"So… you're the one bold—or foolish—enough to want another meeting with me. Jason Smithson, is it? I don't usually entertain mortals who tamper with powers they barely understand."
Jason's chuckle was low and deliberate, the sound of a man who had not only stared into madness but learned to speak its language. "Oh, I grasp more than you think, thief of shadows. I didn't summon you by accident or arrogance—I invited you, because I have a proposition… one that I suspect will pique even your curiosity."
Bakura crossed his arms, leaning lazily against the deck railing. The wind howled between them, carrying the scent of ozone and oil. "You speak boldly for a mortal. What could you possibly offer me that would make me tolerate your existence?"
Jason gestured toward the humming machine behind him. "I offer you an opportunity. The chance to fulfill your purpose faster than any scheme you've yet devised."
Bakura's eyes flickered toward the device. "And what, pray tell, does this contraption do?"
Jason's grin widened. "It's a summoning interface—an experimental fusion between Duel Monsters holographic systems and ancient magical resonance fields. In simpler terms, it can bring forth entities that should not exist in this plane. With sufficient energy—specifically, the energy released from the defeat of the Pharaoh—it can manifest the full essence of Zorc Necrophades into this world."
For a moment, Bakura said nothing. Then a quiet, dark laugh escaped his lips.
"You dare to invoke that name in front of me?" he said, eyes narrowing. "Do you even understand what Zorc is? What he represents?"
Jason's tone didn't falter. "Destruction. Chaos. The culmination of shadow itself. The being who shaped your very existence. Yes, I know. And I have no desire to control him, only to… observe him. To record the data of what happens when darkness fully manifests. Imagine what knowledge could be extracted from the moment of apocalypse."
Bakura's grin faltered, his crimson eyes narrowing as a more calculating expression took hold. "You're insane."
"Possibly," Jason replied, almost cheerfully, the corners of his mouth twitching into something between amusement and conviction. "But insanity and genius are merely opposite ends of the same spectrum. Now, listen closely. You're going to duel the Pharaoh again—but this time, not as a fragmented spirit bound to a vessel. I can enhance your essence, amplify your control over your host until your will eclipses his completely. If you manage to defeat the Pharaoh, the surge of energy released through the Millennium Puzzle will trigger my device… and awaken Zorc. The shadows will consume this world once more, and you—" his grin widened, glinting with promise and deceit, "—you will finally be free."
Bakura's red eyes narrowed further. "And what exactly do you gain, scientist? You claim you only wish to 'observe.' But no mortal risks his life, or his sanity, merely for data."
Jason clasped his gloved hands behind his back, turning toward the window as lightning flashed beyond the glass. His reflection, sharp and ghostly, stared back at him. "Let's just say I've spent my life studying the boundaries between the material and the metaphysical. Duel Monsters, the Millennium Items, the Shadow Games—they are evidence of something greater. Something divine. When Zorc manifests, I will finally understand the source of that power. To witness a god being reborn—that is worth any price."
Bakura smirked. "You're lying."
Jason's grin didn't falter. "Perhaps. But that's the beauty of working with someone like you, Bakura. You don't need to trust me. You only need to desire your freedom."
The thief's eyes gleamed in the dim light. "Freedom… yes. To no longer be tethered to this mortal flesh. To walk the world as Zorc once did."
He turned away, gazing out at the clouds. "And if I refuse your deal?"
Jason shrugged lightly. "Then you will continue to haunt the boy's body, fighting your eternal war of shadows until the Pharaoh destroys you again. You may be clever, Bakura, but without my device, you cannot summon Zorc's full form. You can only channel fragments of his power, bound to your host. I, on the other hand, can bridge that gap permanently."
Bakura's silence stretched long and heavy. Then, slowly, he said, "You're assuming I can't simply defeat you right now, take that machine for myself, and use it however I please."
Jason turned toward him, an amused smirk tugging at his lips. "Oh, please. You can't even beat a five-year-old."
Bakura's eyes snapped toward him, fury rising. "What did you say?"
"Connor," Jason said, his voice laced with venomous mockery. "That boy humiliated you in the Battle City finals—wiped you out like an amateur. You couldn't even outthink a child. So tell me, Bakura—what chance do you honestly believe you have against me? A man who commands two Divine Beasts and holds the power of four Millennium Items at his fingertips?"
Bakura's aura flared, shadows twisting around him like serpents. The air turned cold, and the glass panels behind Jason frosted over. "You dare mock me, mortal?"
Jason didn't flinch. "I dare challenge you, spirit. Because unlike the Pharaoh, I don't rely on ancient destiny. I rely on science—and I've found a way to fuse technology with shadow. Even you must admit, that's impressive."
Bakura stared at him, still seething, but curiosity flickered behind his rage. "Two Divine Beasts, you say?"
Jason nodded, raising his Duel Disk. "the wing dragon of ra and the wicked avatar".
For a brief moment, the air shimmered between them, the duel energy pulsing faintly. But Jason raised a hand, signaling peace—for now.
"No need for theatrics, Bakura. Not yet. I'm offering you a deal, not a duel. If you accept, I will ensure that the Pharaoh faces you under the ideal conditions. My machine will reinforce your link with Zorc, giving you multiple opportunities to win. If the Pharaoh defeats you but fails to remember his true name, the duel will reset. You'll duel again and again until he does."
Bakura's brow furrowed. "Multiple attempts? That's… quite the loophole. And what happens if he does remember his name?"
Jason's grin darkened. "Then the cycle ends. The Pharaoh regains his full divine power, and my machine will absorb the overflow. I'll finally record the pure essence of resurrection. You, of course, will cease to exist—but if you're truly Zorc's vessel, perhaps you won't care. Destruction, after all, is just another form of freedom."
Bakura smirked again, amused. "You speak like a philosopher. But I suspect you simply want to play god."
Jason's head tilted slightly. "And you don't?"
That silenced Bakura for a moment. His grin slowly returned, fanged and dangerous. "Touché."
The storm outside intensified, the blimp shaking slightly. Lightning illuminated the room, revealing the strange inscriptions engraved into the metal floor—runic circles and shadow glyphs Jason had carved himself.
Bakura traced one with his finger, whispering in ancient Egyptian. "You've done your homework, scientist. These sigils bind to the essence of the Millennium Items. Yet… there's something wrong. This pattern draws energy outward, not inward. You're not merely summoning Zorc—you're channeling him."
Jason's grin faltered for the briefest moment. "Perceptive as ever."
Bakura's eyes narrowed. "You intend to contain part of his essence, don't you? Perhaps even use it as an energy source."
Jason's voice softened. "Containment is merely a safety measure. Once Zorc manifests, no human—no god—could stop him. My device ensures that what remains afterward isn't total annihilation."
Bakura laughed again, dark and amused. "So you're lying to yourself now, too. You're not seeking knowledge. You're seeking power. The same as every fool who ever touched the darkness."
Jason turned sharply, his composure briefly cracking. "Power is knowledge, thief! Do you think your ancient sorcery makes you superior? I've spent decades understanding what your kind can do."
The room went still. Bakura regarded him with new interest, perhaps even respect. "Very well, doctor. Let's say I accept. What assurance do I have that you won't betray me once the Pharaoh falls?"
Jason adjusted his glasses, the reflection hiding his expression entirely. "Because betrayal would be pointless. Once Zorc is free, there will be no turning back. Whatever happens next will be beyond both of us. You'll have your chaos, and I'll have my truth."
Bakura extended his hand, the Millennium Ring glinting with dark energy. "Then it's a deal, scientist. I will duel the Pharaoh, crush him, and bring forth the shadow once more."
Jason clasped the hand without hesitation. The air rippled with power, a faint scream echoing through the metal walls.
As they released, the machine behind them flared with crimson light, the shadows within swirling faster. For an instant, the faint outline of a monstrous form—massive wings, fanged jaws, eyes of eternal darkness—appeared within the containment glass. Zorc was watching.
Jason smiled faintly, almost reverently. "Magnificent…"
Bakura looked at him with mild disdain. "You play with forces you can't control, Smithson. But that's your problem, not mine. I'll use your machine to free myself.
Bakura turned, the edges of his cloak whispering against the cold metal floor as he began to walk away. His voice carried through the dim chamber—smooth, confident, and laced with malice.
"Prepare your machine, doctor," he said without looking back, the Millennium Ring glinting faintly in the lab's eerie light. "The Pharaoh's end draws near… and when his soul shatters, your device will sing with the darkness it was built to unleash."
He paused at the doorway, a faint smirk curving his lips as shadows curled around him like loyal serpents.
When the spirit was gone, Jason stood alone, the hum of the blimp filling the silence once more. He removed his sunglasses, revealing eyes that glowed faintly—not with madness, but with something deeper: resolve.
"Fool," he murmured to the empty air. "You think you're using me, but I've already seen your fate. When I rise, I'll capture the moment of divinity. The world will fall, yes—but in that fall, I'll glimpse eternity."
He turned back to his console, fingers dancing across the controls. The containment field pulsed brighter, the faint shadow of Zorc growing more defined.
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