[So monts Back.]
[Ghosts’ Headquarters]
WHOOSH!!
The spatial fabric tore, and Patricia and the Executioner appeared in the center of the colossal, dimly lit hall. The architecture of the Ghosts’ sanctuary was ancient and oppressive, designed to absorb light and project despair. They moved their gazes around the empty place, the silence echoing off the high stone walls.
"Hmm... What now?" Executioner asked. He dragged his heavy boots across the obsidian floor, walking towards the massive, rune-carved round table at the center of the room, and sat down on its edge.
"We ready sent Madurai, Angelina, Denton, and the three Commandnts to deal with the cities, what about us?" He asked, his fingers tapping restlessly against the stone.
"Our task is to keep the cup safe, and..."
Patricia’s voice was sharp, cutting through the gloom. She ignored the table and walked towards the singular, monolithic pillar placed at the far end of the hall. She stopped before it, her eyes reflecting the faint, unnatural light emanating from within the stone. She placed her palm flat on its cold surface.
CLICK!!!
The pillar vibrated for so seconds, a low hum that shook the dust from the rafters. Slowly, it divided into halves, sliding apart to reveal a hidden alcove.
Inside hovered a huge red cup. It was a vile, ancient artifact, pulsating with dark energy. Currently, 70% of it was filled with a swirling, luminescent green light—the concentrated essence of harvested souls. The Cup was surrounded by a dense force barrier, keeping it afloat and protected before her.
"Soon... Just a little more," she said, staring at the cup with a mixture of reverence and obsession. As she watched, the ambient death from the outside world filtered in, and the green liquid kept on rising until it reached 80%.
"Those fools." She smiled, a cruel, mocking expression, looking over her shoulder at Executioner.
"They have no idea the death and destruction of anything in this realm only add to this cup." She smiled, relishing the sheer scale of their deception.
"Yeah. And taking help from the Commandnts only add to the plan," Executioner said, a dark chuckle escaping his throat as he rembered Night Ghost’s brilliant, ruthless strategy.
___
[So Days Ago]
The air in the headquarters had been thick with tension. The ten Ghosts sat around the massive round table, their faces hidden in the shadows, staring at one another, and then finally at their leader, Night Ghost.
"Are you sure about this?" Madurai asked with a slight frown, his cautious nature warring.
"Yes. The Commandnts are after this Beast, and I am sure we will encounter them in this journey." Night Ghost leaned forward, resting his elbows on the table. He stared directly at Madurai.
"No matter what happens, we will try to make peace, and ask for help..." He raised his gloved hand and slowly removed his mask, revealing a wide, terrifying smirk on his face.
"Once the destruction starts, the filling process will increase greatly. And if luck is on our side, the commandnts got killed..." He placed his mask back on, hiding his features once more, his unyielding gaze still fixed at Madurai.
"When you are in battle, make sure to use Bone Reaper! Resurrect the Dead, and let their kills and blood fill the cup even more! No matter what happens, we must achieve our goal!"
"Yes!!"
The nine yelled in agreent, their voices rging into a single, fanatic chorus that rattled the walls of the fortress.
____
[Present]
Executioner shifted on the edge of the table, bringing his mind back to the current crisis.
"Everything was going smoothly. We even acted shocked and surprised eting them there... The Commandnts sent us five of their forces, but all of a sudden; that map appeared and changed our plan," Executioner sighed, his frustration evident. The unexpected variable had cost them montum.
"It didn’t change our plan." Patricia stretched her hand towards the pillar. It responded to her mana, sliding shut and locking the cup safely within its stone vault.
"It simply slowed things down... Anyway, we can make up for it."
She turned fully around to face Executioner, her eyes burning with a fanatical, dangerous light.
"The stronger the one killed, the more it fills..." She opened her palm, channeling a massive surge of spiritual energy. In a flash of light, twenty Legendary-grade Summoning Cards appeared, fanned out perfectly, followed by her ultimate trump card—a singular, pulsing Red Mythical Card.
"We are going to kill all our summons!! With their blood, the process will be done," she said.
Executioner stared at her, then at the floating golden cards. To a Summoner, their deck was their lifeblood, their identity, and their greatest treasure. Patricia was willingly offering to permanently destroy her entire arsenal just to achieve their ultimate goal.
He jumped to his feet, a newfound respect dawning in his eyes.
"It seems you aren’t selfish." He opened his own palms. In an instant, twenty Legendary-grade cards materialized, followed closely by his own prized Red Dragon Card. The sheer volu of mana from the forty-two high-tier cards made the air in the hall heavy and hard to breathe.
"I will ask, are you sure about this?" He asked, looking up at her, offering her one last chance to back out.
Patricia closed her eyes, and exhaled a long, steadying breath. "I am!" she said with absolute conviction.
"Ok then! With !!" Executioner yelled.
Drawing upon their deepest, darkest mana reserves, both him and Patricia muttered in perfect, deadly unison:
"Forbidden skill!! Soul extractor!!!"
BOOOOM!!
A silent, concussive wave of dark mana burst out from them, spreading violently all over the place. The sheer force of the kinetic backlash threw the heavy round table and its stone chairs crashing against the far wall.
CRACK!!
One of the golden summoning cards shuddered, cracked down the middle, and shattered into glittering, agonizing pieces. Then the second, and the third. The spiritual backlash caused their creators to wince.
’This is slower than I thought,’ Executioner thought with a slight frown, gritting his teeth against the ntal strain of executing his own beasts.
WHOOSH!
BAM!
"...?!"
The violent extraction process was abruptly interrupted. The two turned to the entrance, their eyes widening, watching as the spatial fabric tore open. A jagged gateway appeared, and from it, Denton and Angelina fell out, crashing hard onto the stone floor, battered and gasping for air.
"You? Why are you two here?!" Patricia yelled at them, the glowing, half-shattered cards pausing their destruction sequence above her head.
"The... The enemy had backup, and the dragon. It’s just too powerful." Denton struggled to stand up, clutching his side. He stared down at Angelina, who was on her knees, crying uncontrollably.
"They took down, Madurai... This is very bad," he said in a low, defeated voice.
Executioner’s expression darkened instantly. The loss of Madurai was a massive blow.
"Do they know about this place?" Executioner asked with a deep, nacing frown. If the sanctuary was compromised, the Cup was in jeopardy.
"Huh, no. I don’t think so," Denton answered, staring nervously between the two elders and the terrifying array of cards hovering above them.
"Good..." Executioner’s eyes narrowed, his resolve hardening into absolute ruthlessness. "Both of you, I need all your summons here," he ordered, turning his head back to the cards hovering above them.
Denton blinked, processing the command, then realized what was happening. There was no room for hesitation.
"Oh, right!" Denton nodded frantically. He pushed through his exhaustion and joined his palms together. "Co out!!!"
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