Stumbling into Victory 1 (Worm/Yu-Gi-Oh)

Stumbling into Victory 1

Jonathan Yukawa
Brockton Bay, NH, USA

I woke up.

This was exceedingly strange. I was no doctor, but I was quite sure that getting my head caved in by the backblast of a cannon was lethal.

It had been an accident. I was a university student studying history. Historical reenactment was one of my hobbies. I remembered meeting up with some people I’d met online, people I’d been assured were veterans at this stuff.

I’d been lied to.

We met up in an open field nearly three hours from the nearest city. There, we set up a bronze tube that one of them had forged. It was supposed to be a Turkish bombard, the same used to assault Constantinople in 1453.

We loaded a rounded stone from the front, aimed it at a target, and let loose. It was epic. The sound of a cannon firing was unlike anything else.

Unfortunately, it was also the last thing I heard.

I didn’t know if it was because Phil, the guy who loaded the powder, had put in too much or Mike, the guy who forged the bombard, had done a shit welding job. Either way, the result was the same. The bottom blew out, struck the ground, then bounced over sixty feet across the range, above the safety barrier, and right onto my head.

A genuine Turkish bombard could weigh dozens of tons. Sure, our miniature replica wasn’t anywhere near that heavy, and the glorified manhole cover that blew off was a fraction of a fraction of that weight, but that meant nothing. Physics was a heartless bitch and I happened to be the unlucky bastard who got to find out what an egg feels like first-hand.

So, waking up was quite strange. Waking up without a searing headache, retaining the ability to curse Mike for his shit welding, was a goddamn miracle.

Slowly, I sat up and looked around. I was in my dorm room. It was exactly as I remembered. My bed still had the blanket I’d had for years, with little bluejays woven into the fabric. The furniture, from the desk to the shelf, was that cheap, plywood construction the university provided.

Alongside historical reenactment, I enjoyed making things I read about. The shelf was full of history textbooks and knicknacks I’d made. There was a model sphinx, a bonsai tree, an obsidian arrowhead I’d flintknapped into shape, a ball of pemmican wrapped in cheese cloth, and more.

That shelf was a testament to the random collection of skills I’d picked up over the years. Most of those skills were worthless–When would I ever need to flintknap an arrowhead?–but I enjoyed knowing I could do those things.

Everything was where it should be, except one addition.

On my shelf, next to a tsuba that had come from a real, Meiji-era wakizashi, was a pyramid. It gleamed radiantly, catching the light and scattering motes of gold across the room.

That was new. I didn’t own a golden pyramid. Not that I wasn’t interested in ancient Egypt, but I was a university student. I didn’t exactly have that kind of cash to burn. I most definitely didn’t own a golden pyramid with the eye of Horus on it. I stood up and approached with disbelief. It was iconic, though not for its historical value.

This was the Millennium Puzzle, an artifact of pure fantasy. It was the iconic symbol of Yugi Muto, the King of Games. I wasn’t as into anime as some of my friends, but even I recognized it through sheer cultural osmosis.

I picked it up and knew immediately that it was the real deal. Or at least, it was made of solid gold. At a guess, the “pendant,” and I used that word loosely, weighed about fifteen pounds, about as much as the dumbbells I had stuffed beneath my desk. That was a lot for a Japanese middle schooler to lug around on his neck.

I flipped it around and examined it. When I couldn’t find a maker’s mark, I did what anyone else would do: I put it on.

Then, something clicked in my mind, like a deadbolt unlatching. A cascade of memories flooded into my head. For a moment, I became two.

There was another Jonathan Yukawa, one who grew up in Boston. Like me, he was fascinated with old things and people. Like me, he chose to study history while dodging parental pressures. Like me, he was looking for an excuse to avoid taking the LSAT because law school sounded like a pain.

Unlike me, he lived in a world of heroes and villains. He was a bit of a dreamer, or maybe just stubborn. He knew that “archaeologist” was a dead job in Earth-Bet, no one sane was going to sponsor an expedition, but he chose to study history anyway.

He’d gone to sleep last night, and I’d awoken in his place. There was no fanfare and no lasting trauma, at least on his end. He was here, and now, he was not.

I took a deep breath. My chest flexed and I noticed that the puzzle didn’t weigh anything. That brought it to my attention. I supposed I now knew how Yugi had been carrying it around in the anime.

I had no idea why I had this, though. Isekai, or “another world,” anime had been all the rage in my old world. Usually, the protagonist got reborn in a setting they were familiar with, and were given an overpowered cheat of some kind. I hadn’t been a big fan, but I could understand the tropes when they played out so obviously here.

That said, Yu-Gi-Oh was nothing to me. I enjoyed it well enough as a kid, but it wasn’t as if I collected cards or went to tournaments. The last season I watched was GX. It was the one where kids went to totally-not-Hogwarts to be sorted into totally-not-houses and the main character had a deck full of Kamen Rider knockoffs.

Suffice to say, my familiarity with the card game was… limited.

‘I don’t think the Elemental HEROs would appreciate being called knockoffs of any kind,’ a deep, rich voice echoed in my mind, ‘even if they do share some similarities.’

I recognized it. Of course I did. I had the puzzle. Ergo, this could only be the pharaoh who used it as his afterlife bachelor pad. I said the first thing that came to mind. ‘You know what a Kamen Rider is?’

‘Haha, yes. Would it surprise you to learn that Yugi was a fan? He loved Duel Monsters most, but he was a fan of all sorts of games and shows.’

‘I… No, you’re right; that sounds like him. But why are you here? You’re the pharaoh. Atem. You passed on… right?’

‘I did indeed pass on. How curious, was my life truly a story in your world?’

‘It was, sorry if that bums you out.’

‘It is of no consequence. I have nothing I am ashamed of and adventures I am proud to have shared with my friends.’

‘That’s a good outlook. What’s the last thing you remember?’

‘Paradise,’ Atem said simply. ‘I dueled Seto Kaiba in paradise, though I do not know how he managed it while being alive.’

‘Knowing him? He harnessed the only truly infinite source of energy in the world: his ego,’ I replied dryly.

‘Regardless, we concluded the duel and… I appeared here, inside your soul. I do not know how, only that I am in the mortal plane once more, after a fashion. Tell me of this world, Jonathan.’

So, I did.

I told him all that I remembered about Worm, a web serial I’d read years ago. Its heroes, villains, and the many people who walked the shades of gray between. I told him about the endbringers and Scion, the Cycle that fed off human suffering because alien supercomputers lacked creativity.

All the while, Atem listened in contemplative silence. The pharaoh was a thoughtful man, someone who spoke with the full knowledge that his words would be treated as divine law by his subjects. He occasionally asked questions, not about the powers or dangers, but about the character of the people involved. Perhaps, to a man who once wielded the god cards, the endbringers sounded like mere nuisances.

‘This world may not be as you remember,’ he said finally.

‘I know. Our presence here might mean that we’re in someone else’s story, not Taylor’s. Even if everything plays out exactly like the web serial, there is no guarantee that my memory is perfect.’

‘Nonetheless, this world could use more heroes. However…’

I let out a dejected sigh. ‘You can say it. I’m not exactly hero material. I literally died playing pretend-war and the other me wasn’t much better.’

‘My friends were not the type, either. When Yugi first completed my puzzle, he was a coward and the victim of bullies. Joey and Tristan were some of those bullies. And Kaiba, he was a narcissistic egomaniac, a modern day conqueror,’ Atem said with brutal honesty.

‘I guess that’s true. Heh, now that you say it that way, Kaiba hasn’t changed much. He’s still a narcissistic egomaniac.’

‘He has softened. He learned to temper his ambition with other things, chiefly the love he holds for his little brother.’

‘Does it bother you? Starting from scratch again? Yugi was a much better host than I am.’

‘It is simply what must be done. The more important question is what you desire. Will you be the hero that this world needs?’

I let out a rueful chuckle. ‘With what? I don’t even know how to summon a monster.’

‘I believe that is why I am here, to guide you as I once guided Yugi.’

‘Then… Then I guess it’d be rude to not at least try. What’s first, teach? Do I need to learn to play the card game? Because I’m warning you, I’ve never been very good at those.’

‘No, that is unnecessary. The nature of Duel Monsters has always been a contest of spirit and will, not cardboard and pretty holograms. You have a strong soul, Jonathan. It is quite spacious.’

I didn’t know what to say to that. Until five minutes ago, I hadn’t even known for certain that souls existed. I opened the top drawer of my desk and took out a sheet of colorful origami paper, vibrant red on one side and pastel pink on the other.

I began folding a crane. When I was younger, my grandmother said my wish would come true when I folded a thousand of them. I’d made so many of these by now that I could go through the motions without thinking. It helped me focus, having something to do with my hands.

‘Is that a good thing? What do you see when you’re inside the puzzle, Atem?’ I asked.

‘My puzzle is its own space, but entering your soul is as easy as walking across the street. As for your soul, I see a large, open-air gallery, not unlike what you might find in a museum. At the center of the gallery is a fountain from which your ba springs forth.

‘The gallery is filled with stands and pedestals that hold nothing. It is only the blank nameplates that tell me that something is meant to be there. I suspect that your ka, the monsters you summon, will be housed there.

‘At the fountain is a thick tome. It is filled with… booster packs? Yes, I believe Yugi called them that.’

I creased the wings of the crane, carefully aligning the edges. ‘Why booster packs? I’ve never collected cards before.’

‘Perhaps, this is how you best understand Duel Monsters.’

‘Fair enough, I guess. So if I’m getting this right, you can use my ba from the fountain to open a booster pack?’

‘That is so. Right now, you do not have much ba. Until you are stronger, I can open only one: the Legend of Blue Eyes White Dragon.’

‘Let’s do it. We may as well figure out how all this works, right?’

‘Very well. Prepare yourself.’

I was about to ask why, but a wave of exhaustion almost made me tumble off my chair. I felt as if I’d given several pints of blood and run a mile. Stumbling, I teetered towards my bed and collapsed face-first into the pillow.

‘W-What the hell was that?’ I thought. Even my mind felt sluggish and lethargic.

‘That was the feeling of your ba being drained to connect to your new ka. Or, to use the analogy your soul seems to favor, that was you opening a booster pack.’

‘W-Will it always feel like this?’

‘No. When you grow familiar with sorcery and strengthen your soul, you will be able to do this more easily. For now, call them to you. There were nine ka in the pack.’

‘How do I do that? Do I just wish for it?’

‘Yes. You jest, but you will find that willpower is just as important as conventional education when it comes to magic, perhaps even more so.’

A small part of me wished I’d gotten another Millennium Item, something like the eye or necklace. That way, I’d have a power I could use right away. That bitching voice in my head was drowned out by the sheer weight of Atem’s wisdom and experience. Having the support of perhaps the greatest summoner in history was a boon like nothing else.

Under his tutelage, I was able to call out my first cards. They materialized in my hand without fanfare, almost as if I’d always had them just out of view. I made a note of that; it’d be useful if I ever needed to pass it off as excellent sleight of hand.

The cards themselves were weighty. Each felt like a miniature void unto itself, waiting to be filled. This, according to my new mentor, was the bond between my ba and ka, the link that could be fed and strengthened to fully manifest the cards onto the material plane.

One by one, I looked them over. Five normal monsters, one normal fusion, two field spells, and a normal trap: 

Dissolverock, The Furious Sea King, Turtle Tiger, Kagemusha of the Blue Flame, Firegrass, Flower Wolf

Umi, Mountain

Trap Hole

Of the normal monsters, the strongest was Turtle Tiger, a measly level four. The fusion was Flower Wolf, a level five. I didn’t have to be a tournament regular to know these were trash, filler cards that got thrown aside for something better even by grade schoolers.

‘Don’t be so hasty. If you truly witnessed my life, then you should know that there are no worthless cards,’ Atem chided firmly.

‘Fair enough. This really isn’t a card game anymore. Who would I even duel, anyway?’

‘If the Millennium Puzzle ended up in your hands, it stands to reason that the others are out there. Or perhaps there is someone else who touched upon the shadows.’

‘That’s real comforting, Atem. The last thing this world needs is shadow games and monsters.’

‘All the more reason to be ready.’

I finished my crane and set it aside. ‘How do I do that? Be ready? It’s early March. Taylor, the girl who’s supposed to be the big damn hero, isn’t going to do her thing until April… fifteenth? Something like that.’

‘Then we have time. Not enough to be careless perhaps, but enough. As for how, you must strengthen your soul. You will passively accumulate spirit energy as you live. At a guess, you will be able to open a new pack every week.’

‘That’s good. I mean, if the packs are exactly like how I remember, there should be a Blue Eyes in there somewhere, right?’

‘Were probabilities as low in your world as in mine?’ Atem asked dryly, crushing my dreams of dragon-riding. ‘I can also help you select a new booster pack if you desire in the future, though I believe some will be more helpful than others.’

‘That’s fair. We’ll just have to play around with it. Once per week is pretty slow, though.’

‘That is the passive accumulation of ba simply for being alive. You can accelerate the accumulation of spirit energy. To do that, you must seek and overcome trials in your life.’

‘What does that mean exactly?’

‘In a word, struggle. Fight. Seek obstacles and overcome them.’

‘Are you sure you’re not a Shard?’

‘Quite. A “trial” need not be a physical altercation to the death. As you live life and experience new things, your spirit will naturally grow as well.’

I eyed my laptop. I’d had it for four years now, about the end of its life cycle, but it still ran fine thanks to regular maintenance and a few replaced parts. ‘Chess. Online chess. How about that? I mean, I’m not good at it, but it’s a game, right? Can I get stronger by raising my online ranking?’

‘No. I understand that you are looking for an analog to Duel Monsters, but this will not work. If you recall, the vast majority of duelists in my old world were not sorcerers, either. The game is just that, a game. To grow your ba, you must place a meaningful wager.’

“And a fight has that inherently. There is risk of pain and loss of whatever the fight was about from the start. What if I invoke a shadow game over something I don’t really care about?’

‘I advise against it. A shadow game is not to be taken lightly, no matter the wager. And besides, if it is a matter of no consequence, your soul will not be impacted. How can a man lie to his own soul?’

‘You have a point. I’ll… I’ll figure something out.’

‘Yugi did not have the luxury of chasing a dream, either.’

‘Right, he had that thing with his grandfather.’

‘He did. Though Yugi forgave Kaiba in the end, they were bitter rivals for a long time. What is it you were going to do before you came here, Jonathan?’

‘I wanted to be an archaeologist. I wanted to be the guy making interesting discoveries, or at least seeing the places where history happened. Now that I have power, or at least the potential for power, I may as well be the one making history, right?’

‘Very well. Be it endbringers or villains, we will leave this world better than when we arrived,’ Atem agreed. 

X

Our course was decided, but that didn’t mean I could go out bust heads right away. There were things every new cape needed, such as a cape name and costume. Ideally, new heroes would start with a mentor, or some kind of backup and an easy patrol to get their feet wet.

Even ignoring all of that, I needed two things: my monsters, or “ka” as Atem called them, and plain ol’ physical fitness. The problem with every minion-controlling master was that they were as squishy as everyone else. And unlike in Atem’s world, Earth-Bet didn’t settle things with card games. The first time I tried to shuffle a pack of cards would also likely be the last.

The problem was, I wasn’t athletic. I was slim thanks to good genes, but that was all. Never mind a cape, I doubted I’d beat most regular Joes in a fight. The only reason I hadn’t been bullied or pressganged into the ABB in high school was that I moved to Brockton Bay for college for the cheap tuition. Until a few years ago, I lived in Boston.

Then, I had an idea: Atem said that I needed to accomplish meaningful things. It sounded like I could hit two birds with one stone and get myself in shape.

Maybe, if I picked up a bit of self-defense in the process, it could even align more literally to the “obstacles” that he was talking about. I doubted any martial art would help me against a true threat, but there was something to be said for simply getting used to the act of fighting.

And for that, there was one canon answer. I picked up the phone and the Yellowpages. After almost an hour of searching, I found the gym I was looking for:

“Hello? Is this the Laborn Boxing Gym? I’m new to boxing and figured I could join a small gym where someone could show me the ropes.”

X

That night, I put on a gray hoodie and a disposable facemask and headed out. Not to look for trouble, I wasn’t suicidal, but to test my power. Atem said I should start by summoning the weakest of my new duel spirits, and only when I recovered from the initial booster pack.

That was Firegrass. Despite its name, it was an Earth attribute monster, and only a level two. Its card text said that it was a fire-breathing plant that lived near volcanoes. 

Kagemusha also shared its attribute and level, but Atem warned me about more human-like spirits. They tended to be a mixed bag of personalities, and far more capable of negotiating with their summoner. That was both good and bad, and possibly not something I should seek out for my first time.

So, I found myself looking for a quiet place to summon my first monster. I considered some of the campus lecture halls, they were old and made of brick, decidedly not flammable, but they also had cameras everywhere. I wasn’t one of those sneaky types who could glance at a building and  instantly know where all the security cameras were.

I rode my electric scooter, one of those pastel-green ones popular on postcards. The paint was chipped, one of the handlebars was missing a rubber grip, and a headlight had been cracked open, but it was cheaper than a car or motorbike and simple enough to maintain with a bit of elbow grease.

Most importantly, no one looked at it and thought, “I want that,” or “The owner must be swimming in dough.” In the Bay, not being a target was the best policy.

I cruised around until I came to an old shipping garage that had been stripped bare. I didn’t even know what its name was because even the signage had been ripped off the wall. The only reason I knew it used to ship packages was because of the remnants of an old poster, its colors faded away.

Parking my scooter, I headed inside. I thumbed a flashlight on my keyring and looked around. There weren’t any homeless people inside, though it did smell faintly of pee.

I shrugged. This was about as good as I’d get. I couldn’t remember if this was accurate, but I’d read that a lot of new capes went to the boat graveyard or trainyard to test their powers, only to get poached immediately. That wouldn’t be me if I could help it.

The card appeared in my hand with a flick of the wrist that I totally hadn’t practiced in front of my bathroom mirror. I could have been imagining it, but it felt warm, almost as if the monster inside was as eager to emerge as I was to summon it.

‘Go on, call to it,’ Atem encouraged.

‘R-Right. Is there a spell I need to say?’

‘No, just summon it as if you were playing Duel Monsters.’

Taking his advice to heart, I decided that I may as well embrace the shonen spirit. I pinched Firegrass between my index and ring fingers and held it aloft, high over my head.

Then, with as much authority as I could muster, I brought it down on an imaginary duel disk and declared, “I summon Firegrass in attack mode! Come forth!”

In my mind's eye, a duel disk formed. It was made of the same gold as the puzzle around my neck. My words clicked something in my mind, or maybe my soul. Maybe I didn’t need to obey the rules of a card game, but the format provided a good frame of reference for me to act from.

Still, I felt pretty silly as soon as the words left my mouth. It wasn’t helped by the quiet chuckling of a dead pharaoh in the back of my mind. ‘Heh, you didn’t need to shout that.’

‘You said I should summon it like I was playing your card game,’ I grumbled.

‘I’m sorry. I meant there was no strict ritual required.’

Before I could reply, Firegrass appeared from a black portal in the ground. It, both the monster and the portal, was smaller than I was expecting. Firegrass was about as tall as a seven year old child. It had a bulbous body that reminded me of a potato with two, long stalks that ended in light-green, tubular flowers.

The flowers had eyes. So did the potato, for that matter. It was one thing to see the card art, and something entirely different to see such an affront to biology in real life. Its “feet,” a set of stubby roots that wiggled like tentacles, scooted it in my direction.

It croaked again. It was kinda cute, in a butt-ugly sorta way, kinda like a Furby.

“Um… Hello,” I said tentatively. All monsters could understand humans, or at least the will of their summoners, but I felt a little silly talking to a plant with a face.

It gazed up at me with its three pairs of eyes, two flowers and the base, and opened its maw. Rather than words, it let out a croaking burp that sounded like a toad that had been stepped on one too many times. WIth its burp came a spray of ash and sparks.

“Uh… Wave your right flower-tube-thing if you understand me.” Then, I realized it probably couldn’t tell right from left so I pointed them out. “Wave the right one for yes, left one for no. Do you understand me?”

Its right flower bobbed up and down. Yes, then. Thus began a series of probing questions. Fortunately, summoning such a minor spirit didn’t take much out of me. I felt as if I’d sprinted a city block but quickly regained my strength.

I thought about what to do with this creature. It wasn’t really built for patrols given its fastest means of locomotion was to scoot itself along the ground with its stubby tentacle-roots. I supposed I could place it as the anvil to a pincer ambush, but that required that I knew what it could do exactly and had other monsters to play the part of the hammer.

I held out a hand, gesturing grandly towards a stone wall. “Alright, Firegrass. Flamethrower!”

The potato-like thing let out an eager croak. Its already wide mouth spread into a downright pyromanic grin before it let loose a gout of flame that had me blinking spots out of my eyes.

The brick wall didn’t burn. Whatever leftover residue or dust the wall had was scorched black, but the wall’s integrity had not been compromised. There were plenty of monsters who could melt stone, but this apparently wasn’t one of them.

I was grateful for that. I had a feeling that even a level four monster like Turtle Tiger would be a serious challenge for most capes in the city. I’d likely outgrow the average cape in a few weeks at most. Not packing a nuke to a knife fight was the right call so it was nice to know I had milder options.

A croaking burp drew my attention to my pyromanic potato. It gazed up at me, eyes shining with glee. It reminded me of a child awaiting praise.

Reaching down, I gave it a light pat between its flowers. “You did good. Can you make your blast a little weaker when you use it on a person? We don’t want them getting seriously hurt unless they’re trying to hurt me.”

Its right flower bobbed in agreement but some of its eagerness dimmed. Oh well, I was the summoner. It’d just have to cope.

Dismissing it was just as easy as calling it forth. All I had to do was flip Firegrass’ card into “face down defense mode” in my mind. If I ever entered a shadow game, I’d have to remember that normal monsters couldn’t do that, but that was a problem for another day.

‘Hello, little one,’ I heard Atem as he spoke to my first ka. Apparently, dismissing a monster from this plane would send it back to my inner soul. ‘Indeed. Seeing how you visualize your magic in the form of a duel disk, perhaps you should set your spells and trap as well, just in case.’

‘You’re right. Umi or Mountain? And how will those work if I ever flip them?’ I asked hesitantly. ‘The last thing I want to do is to literally summon a mountain range on top of the city.’

‘There is no need to worry about that. You do not have the power to do such a thing. I suspect that you will form a large swimming pool if you use Umi, or perhaps steep, uneven terrain when you use Mountain.’

‘Oh, that’s much more manageable. Thanks, Atem.’

‘Think nothing of it. A world without Duel Monsters… This is more engaging than my afterlife.’

Author’s Note

“Yu-” names are apparently tradition. Yukawa is a Japanese surname.

Apparently, the Millennium Puzzle is solid gold. 

Andy is a Ward. Bryce and Blake are adopted an Amy. Tahm is enabling Taylor. John and Atreus are doing their own thing. I’ve written seven stories in Worm now, but not once have I dealt with the Undersiders as a main faction.

I’ll leave the plot thread there with Brian and Aisha, see what comes of it. That’s kind of the point of a pilot chapter, anyway. Introduce plot threads and get some feedback. 

YGO monsters are basically pokemon, right? Right.

Animal Fact: Nine-banded armadillos give birth to identical quadruplets every time. No, other armadillos don’t do this. It’s just the nine-banded variety. No, we don’t know why.