"Ahhhhhh!"
A black-haired boy, hands and feet bound to a metal bed, was covered head-to-toe in cables. Dazzling arcs of electricity danced around his body, strong currents continually shocking his frail frame. The boy's vital signs, as displayed on the machine nearby, were dropping rapidly.
But the red-haired man behind the control station remained unmoved, coldly issuing another order: "Increase the voltage."
The two technicians beside the panel hesitated, unable to help asking: "But… Lord Sayer, if we keep increasing the voltage at this point, the test subject is likely to die—"
"It doesn't matter," the man called Sayer sneered.
"If he's only showing such insignificant potential even after all this stimulation, it means this subject is never going to amount to anything.
Our Arcadia Movement has no use for useless fighters like this. If he dies, let him die."
The two operators exchanged glances. Hearing this, they said no more and turned to continue increasing the voltage on the console.
Soon, the screams stopped. The boy ceased struggling, his life signs dropping to zero.
"Tch, bad luck. Another worthless failure."
Sayer waved his hand dismissively.
"Dispose of him, like before. Don't leave any traces."
His subordinates on either side responded at once: "Yes."
Then someone stepped forward and whispered into Sayer's ear, "Sayer, Akiza wants to see you."
Sayer nodded and turned to leave the room.
This was a building in the heart of New Domino City. It served as a gathering place for all duelists born with psychic powers, like Akiza Izinski.
Sayer was the founder of this movement. Outwardly, he claimed to provide a home for these outcasts, shunned and despised for their abilities. Secretly, however, it was to build his own army.
Psychic duelists could manifest their card powers in reality; natural-born superhuman warriors. By gathering them together and using them properly, they could become his unstoppable private force.
To achieve his goals, Sayer had killed many, never shying from any dirty method or trick. In fact, for many so-called "rescued" psychic duelists in Arcadia, their bleak pasts were directly or indirectly orchestrated by Sayer.
Behind the scenes, he fanned the flames of hatred and alienation in their lives, then appeared at just the right moment—posing as a protector—to recruit them into his "family." That's why everyone in the Arcadia Movement was fiercely loyal, viewing Sayer as their patriarch. No one ever suspected the source of their misery lay in the very person who "saved" them.
In this regard, he wasn't that different from the likes of Dartz back in the day. But in terms of strength, vision, or ambition, Sayer was nowhere near Dartz's level.
In "Yu-Gi-Oh! 5D's," most villains had their own beliefs and motives. However, later viewers often said that Sayer—an early, minor boss with not much screen time—was one of the few pure villains, a real antagonist through and through.
Sayer walked down the corridor, heading for the elevator at the end of the floor, when he ran into Akiza Izinski, returning from outside.
"Akiza," Sayer greeted her with a smile. "How did your trip go?"
Seeing Sayer, Akiza's tense face finally relaxed a little. Since running away from home, she had been utterly disappointed in her terrified parents. At that timely moment, Sayer had stepped in, and in some ways, had become the parental figure she needed—a protector she could truly rely on.
"Same old, same old," Akiza said irritably, rubbing the mark on her arm.
She replayed a scene in her mind—from earlier, while out in the Daimon Area under the highway. Suddenly, she frowned as if to say something but hesitated.
"What's wrong?" Sayer asked.
"It's probably just my imagination," Akiza said. "But for a moment today, I felt like I was being watched… It was a dangerous, oppressive gaze. I've never felt such a sense of crisis before."
Sayer frowned. He knew that psychic duelists had sharper senses than most—a fact he had researched in depth. Often, what seemed like a baseless sixth sense was truly a warning of real danger.
And Akiza was the strongest psychic duelist Sayer had ever seen in all his years of founding the Arcadia Movement. Any danger she perceived was not to be ignored.
Could some dangerous new player have set their sights on his movement?
"Did you see anyone?" Sayer asked.
Akiza shook her head. "No, that's why I said it was probably just my imagination. Anyway, it's fine."
She smiled.
"As long as everyone in Arcadia is here, there's nothing to be afraid of."
Sayer laughed. "Well said, Akiza. We're a family—there's nothing we can't face together."
"By the way, what about that kid who joined us a couple days ago?" Akiza asked.
"Oh, him," Sayer shrugged. "Unfortunately, he didn't agree with our ideals and refused to join us. I let him go."
In truth, the boy had already been killed. Of course, he would never say that in front of Akiza.
"I see." Akiza looked a bit disappointed. "That's a shame. He seemed like a good kid."
Sayer patted her on the shoulder. "Don't overwork yourself, Akiza. Go get some rest—you still have lots to do."
Akiza nodded and walked away.
Sayer watched her disappear from view. The smile faded from his face as he turned to a subordinate nearby and asked: "Where's the next test subject?"
"That's ready anytime, sir. The next experiment can begin as soon as you're there."
"Let's go."
Sayer strode ahead, his expression turning heavy.
The situation was changing—he could sense it. A few days ago, a vision of the Crimson Dragon had appeared in the city center, accompanied by a shockwave. From what Sayer had learned, that power was on par with top psychic duelists, but it hadn't come from any duelist with psychic powers.
This might mean a new superhuman era was dawning—psychic duelists would no longer be unique. That worried him—and steeled his resolve to accelerate his plans to militarize his psychic army.
As he was thinking this, a sharp snap echoed through the sealed corridor.
Then, darkness—utter, limitless blackness swallowed the entire hallway.
Sayer froze. "What's going on?"
Instinctively, he turned in the darkness to face his subordinate, but as he did, a flash of bone-chilling realization hit him.
The subordinate who'd been at his side only a moment ago—had vanished in the instant the lights went out.
It was as if he'd evaporated into thin air.
…
…
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