Sartorius sat as always in that room of white light, in his special seat.
He slowly turned over another tarot card.
Sartorius's brow lifted; he showed rare surprise.
"Aster's destiny has wavered?"
Through the mist of fate he could see clearly: Aster Phoenix's future had changed.
One who should have been his strongest enforcer, bound to the destiny of the Light of Destruction, had slipped off his original track. Aster's fate had grown hazy, unpredictable—even Sartorius began to find it hard to grasp.
But why?
Sartorius's brows knit. He reshuffled and drew a few more cards, laying them flat on the table and turning them over one by one.
He stared at the spread for a long time in silence.
"The Revolver."
Sartorius murmured.
"A mundane destiny, an ant raising its arms against the wheel of fate—its end can only be destruction. Easy, effortless destruction, barely worth notice."
So it should have been.
Yet now, this man had shaken Aster's fate.
One of his most important pieces.
How could that be?
He sat motionless in the white light, silent in thought. A terminal chime interrupted him.
Sartorius answered. On the other side appeared his sister, Sarina.
"Sarina, I was just about to call you."
Sartorius didn't look pleased.
"The Knights of Hanoi… you may need to pick up the pace on your end."
Sarina raised an eyebrow. "You seem uneasy, brother. What happened?"
That was rare. She knew he possessed a special power to foresee the future. For one who could pierce fate and know what was to come, unease and anxiety were uncommon emotions.
"No, I'm fine. It's just that the Revolver is a bit unexpected," Sartorius said darkly.
"Unexpected?"
Another novel phrase.
How could someone be beyond Sartorius's expectations?
"In any case, secure him as soon as possible, by any means necessary," Sartorius said. "If necessary, you can move personally next."
"I understand."
Sarina nodded, pondered a moment, then said:
"I'm considering unifying the powers of the Monarch and trying again. The Earth Monarch's master is the strongest of the four; he should be able to wield the combined power of all the Monarch."
"Good. But make it quick. Don't keep me waiting," Sartorius said coldly. "The time has come."
Sarina blinked.
"You're moving too, brother?"
"The Duel Academy—the center of the vortex of fate," Sartorius said. "The wheel of destiny has rolled to this moment. No one can stop it, and it cannot be halted."
He did not tell Sarina that another variable was the dark waves from space. The power of Neo-Space had arrived; he could not leave it unchecked.
He had to act.
But the plan required changes.
In fact, under the original plan—like in the anime—Sartorius would personally go to Duel Academy next.
In the anime, he first took down Chazz, making him the first White Knight at the Academy.
With the power of Light, Chazz then swept through the school, defeated many students, and infected them with the Light of Destruction, turning them into Sartorius's faithful believers.
They even abolished the Blue Dorm and turned it into the White Dorm, the headquarters of the Society of Light, which became the base for all of Sartorius's actions.
But now Aster's wavering destiny gave Sartorius pause. The destiny of Light seemed to be sprouting variables, and there was someone else on the island he was wary of.
Duel King Fujiki Kira.
So, after consideration, Sartorius decided to slightly revise the plan. He himself would not set foot on the island for now.
With his abilities, even without going in person, he could still exert influence over the Academy.
Sartorius took out his crystal ball. Light flashed over it, and soon a mirror-like image resolved on the gleaming surface.
It was a bustling venue. A banner hung high overhead:
"Domino City 7th Bullet-Hell Shooting Grand Prix."
It wasn't FPS—the first-person shooters most people know—but an older kind of bullet-hell shooter, like Raiden.
Players control a plane, weaving through curtains of fire, using a single craft to smash through enemy legions and finally destroy a boss-class dreadnought to claim victory.
"Match decided!"
The host's shout boomed over the speakers, accompanied by thunderous applause from the crowd.
"The winner is the world shooting champion, Lorenzo!"
"Once again, Lorenzo has defended his title, taking the Grand Prix crown! Let's congratulate him!"
A boy in an Obelisk Blue uniform leapt onto the podium, waving to the crowd with cocky flair.
When the host handed him the mic, the boy gripped it with one hand and thrust his other fist high.
"In shooting or in dueling, I will be No. 1!"
The boy named Lorenzo said with confidence.
"Soon, I'll stand at the pinnacle of the dueling world too!"
The audience erupted in even louder applause; the atmosphere boiled.
Lorenzo, a student of Duel Academy's Obelisk Blue. But before he was a seated duelist, he was a bullet-hell shooter—quite possibly the best in the world.
He'd won numerous titles in that genre, long recognized as a world champion. Later, he brought his talent and understanding from shooters into dueling, achieving outstanding results and earning the reputation of a double prodigy in shooting and dueling, with consistently stellar grades in Obelisk Blue.
Domino had hosted a high-caliber shooting event over the last two days. As a die-hard fan, Lorenzo immediately took two days off from the Academy to compete, and unsurprisingly, won again.
Hugging his trophy, humming to himself, Lorenzo set off back to the Academy.
But he'd barely left the venue when, on a whim, he glanced into a nearby alley.
He froze.
In the dim alley, shrouded in a thin mist, a table sat faintly outlined. A hooded man sat behind it, a crystal ball resting on the tabletop before him.
A fortune-teller?
Lorenzo blinked.
He'd never believed in that stuff. But today, for some reason, he felt a strong urge to go take a look.
He walked into the alley, step by step.
The man lifted his head slowly, a hint of amusement in his eyes.
"My name is Sartorius," the hooded man said with a smile.
"Lorenzo, do you want to know your fate?"