It was going perfectly. The world was at his fingertips. Unlimited power was at his beck and call. Even better than that, he was going to finally be at the top of the food chain. Unfortunately, there's a funny thing about food chains. There's always something higher than you on it.

Even when it came to humans.

What would be on his obituary? "Master thief?" "Cunning mastermind?" "Snappy dresser?" Any of those would do, really. No, no they wouldn't. He'd hate any of that. Except the last one, maybe. No-all that was just his mind trying to accept the reality of his situation.

The reality of death.

Roman Torchwick had lived through poverty, gang wars, betrayals, the White Fang, and even the machinations of Cinder Fall and her ilk. What was his reward for all his hard work? His prize for all the blood, sweat, and tears he shed for all those years?

The privilege of being eaten alive by a Grimm at the very moment of his victory.

During his goddamned speech, no less.

Roman had to admit, though, it was better than going out a loser. He was biting the bullet in the prime of his life, his peak. As he closed his eyes one last time, he thought that, oddly enough, he was pretty ok with this.

Wait, no. That was the whole "trying to accept reality" thing again.

Roman didn't want to die. He really didn't. But, you can't always get what you want. Sometimes, life takes a bite out of you. And sometimes it just swallows you whole.

Heh. That was a good one. Shame he couldn't say it. Neo would've-

Neo. That's right. He didn't even get to say goodbye. It's not like he hated the girl-she stood by his side for longer than anyone else he knew. She fought beside him, figuratively and literally. He wouldn't have had Little Red where he did if it wasn't for Neo. The least he wanted to do before he bit the dust was say "thanks" or something.

Actually, maybe not "thanks." That word really felt weird on his tongue. Something like that, though. Something-

Something was wrong.

Roman didn't quite know what the inside of a Grimm felt like, but it was just like a bigger, scarier animal. He should have been feeling teeth a minute ago, and he should be feeling some kind of burning sensation right about now. After all, even Grimm had to have digestive tracts, right?

Actually, he wasn't sure he wanted to know the answer to that.

The point was, it should've felt warm (to say the least), and with some squishy bits surrounding him. He felt a little chilly, to tell the truth. Hell, he shouldn't have been feeling anything. His whole body should have just melted by now, but instead, he felt the hard floor beneath his feet-

Hold on a second.

Roman's eyes snapped open, darting from side to side. He expected to see nothing but pitch black, maybe a couple red organs here or there. Instead, he saw computers. Lots and lots of computers. Wires lay in tangled messes underneath consoles with complicated buttons and flashing lights. In front of him (and all around him, actually) was a clear glass tube, and a large control panel.

Roman raised his weapon, his ever trusty Melodic Cudgel, and aimed it at-

It was then he realized that his weapon wasn't even in his hand.

This day just kept getting better and better.

There were some pros and cons to this situation. For one, he was alive. That was a pleasant surprise. On the downside, he was a prisoner somewhere. But how could he even get caught? Did Little Red cut through the Grimm and knock him out? No, that couldn't be right-he'd been conscious for the whole "being eaten alive" thing.

Maybe it wasn't a Grimm after all. It could have been some kind of Atlas technology. Yeah. A robot. That would explain the cold feeling. Then again, Atlas having Grimm robots seemed kind of counterproductive to their usual M.O.

It could have been a backup plan of Cinder's. After all, with the Grimm running rampant and the White Fang on the move, odds were that she needed to retain all the help she could get. Then again, she never seemed extremely fond of Roman or his gang, and probably wouldn't go through all the trouble.

There was also the most morbid of all the options-he really was dead, and this was some kind of purgatory.

That idea didn't sit too well with him.

In the end, Roman decided to do the only thing he figured he could do in a situation like this. It had worked before, it would probably work here, and it'd continue to work until the day he actually died.

He started to talk.

"Hello? Anyone home?" Roman rapped on the walls of the tube with his knuckles. "As much as I enjoy the hospitality here, I'd much rather prefer the option that doesn't involve me breaking out of here! It's so much work, and so much glass to clean up-does anyone here really want that?"

The thief heard no answer. "I'll give you kind people to the count of three before I start getting violent! One!" He accentuated his counting with a punch on the tube, causing it to rumble. "Two!" Another punch rang out, cracks beginning to show in the tube. Roman grinned. This was too easy. "And…three!" He drew his fist back for another punch, ready for the oh-so-familiar sound of shattering glass to hit his ears.

He got something else. A "whoosh", and a series of footsteps. The walls of the tube shone bright for a moment before taking on a dark violet hue. Roman lowered his fist, glowering at the wall. "I was looking forward to that," he grumbled as the footsteps came to a stop.

"I'm sure you were," a low, gravelly voice replied. "Please, feel free to step out of the chamber. I'm sure you'd like some room to breathe."

Roman reached a hand out, tentatively poking it through the purple wall. Finding it safely outside, he hopped out of the tube towards where the voice had come from, stretching his arms wide as he did so. "Well, it's about time someone showed up." Roman placed one hand on his bowler hat, adjusting it slightly. "It's really rude to keep guests waiting, you know."

In front of Roman stood a tall man, clad in a dark violet…well, everything, really. With the exception of his silver boots and black gloves, the man's outfit was nearly all violet. He wore a uniform-much like the Atlas military, to be honest-with golden shoulder pads, a long cape, and sash with a purple gem in the middle. The purple regalia wasn't the most interesting part about the man though. That honor went to his head.

The man's head was as bald as a newborn baby's, with a strange mechanical device implanted onto the left side. His veins bulged wide, almost as if they were ready to burst. Roman felt ready to vomit just at the sight of him, though a part of that might have been some residual "I almost got eaten by a goddamned Grimm" sickness.

Flanking the man were a series of masked soldiers, clad in a similar outfit but with a dark blue color scheme. The masks looked utterly ridiculous, with almost Grimm-like pointed edges and animalistic designs "complimented" by bright gemstones in the center of each. Their eyepieces all looked uniform as well, a shade of dark, bloody red. All of them were illuminated by the bright light of an open doorway.

"I apologize for the delay." The man glanced down at Roman, giving an even clearer view of his vein-covered skin. Roman grimaced in response. "You must be Roman Torchwick, correct?"

Roman clenched his fist, taking a step back. "Yes, I am. I take it you've heard of me? Not surprising, really." He grinned. "Cinder fill you in?"

The man shook his head. "I'm afraid not. In fact, this has nothing to do with her. At least, not yet."

Roman raised an eyebrow. "Then, you're with Atlas."

"Not at all."

Roman sighed. He didn't have time for this. He began to walk forward towards the man only for the soldiers to step in his path. Upon closer inspection, Roman noticed that all the soldiers were wielding identical arm bracelets that looked like light blue shields. Each of the shields had a bright blue gem in the middle as well.

One soldier in particular (a bright red gem adorning his mask) pushed Roman back towards the tube. "Back away from him, you Duelless scum!"

Roman growled back, pushing the soldier backwards into his compatriots, causing all of them to stumble slightly. Roman had dealt with enough cops to know how to deal with people like this. "Care to repeat that statement, officer?" He called him officer out of habit (lord knows he dealt with enough boys in blue for one lifetime), but it got the intended effect-the soldiers all seemed riled up.

The soldier raised his bracelet arm, reaching into one of his pockets. "You're asking for it-"

"Enough!" All of the soldiers snapped to attention, with the exception of the one facing Roman. The tall man glared down at the soldier, who slowly backed away and filed rank with the others. "We don't have time for petty squabbles, especially not with our new ally here."

Roman held his hands up. "Hold on a second, Speedy. No one said anything about allies here. In fact, you haven't told me where "here" is." Roman walked forward as the soldiers split in two, allowing him to stand toe to toe with the taller man. "I suggest you start talking."

"You are in no position to make demands here, Torchwick, despite what you may think," the man replied. "As well, I believe I have someone here you'd very much like to catch up with before we start talking."

"Who're you talking-"Roman stopped mid-sentence as he looked behind the man. His jaw dropped to the floor. Another figure stood in the doorway behind the group. Roman would know her two-toned hair anywhere. He'd last seen it hurtling off of an airship-not exactly a sight to forget. He thought she was gone for good. But there she was.

Neo.

Roman watched as Neo walked into the room, a pink parasol at her side. She stood beside him, a smirk on her face. Roman's shocked expression refused to fade as he looked back up at the man. "Just what the hell is going on?"

The man's stoic expression didn't budge an inch. "All your questions will be answered in due time. I have one of my own, however, and I think we both know the answer to it." He reached into his uniform's jacket, digging around inside. "Your world, the world of Remnant, will fall in time, to whomever is the most powerful, with or without you. Your "death" affects nothing in that regard. As long as you remained there, you would live and die at the whims of fate. What was it you said? 'Like it or not, the people that hired me are going to change the world?' "Roman's breathing sharpened, his "last words" echoing in his mind as it replayed his seemingly final moments. "You had no say in that, you know. You were naught but a pawn."

The man's hand stopped, slowly taking out a shield bracelet much like the ones the soldiers had. The biggest difference with this one was its bright red hue. "Here, it's an entirely different game. A game with not just the future of one world at stake, but those of many. A game where every move you make matters. A game where every choice you make matters." As he looked down at the shield, Roman briefly noticed out of the corner of his eyes that Neo had one of her own, with a pink gem in the center and a brown body surrounding it.

"You got this pitch too, huh?"

Neo merely smiled in response, the kind of smile a lion would give to its unsuspecting prey. Her usual smile. Roman looked back to the red shield as the man nodded. "She was very willing to work with us, on one condition."

"And what might that be?"

"That you do as well."

Roman groaned as Neo's smile grew wider. "So I'm locked in either way." He shook his head, a grin appearing on his face as he reached out for the shield. "Well, even if she didn't do that, I gotta say that this offer sounds pretty good to me." His eyes narrowed as his hand paused, hovering right over the shield. "But offers like these never come without a catch. What's yours?"

"I merely ask that you don our colors and carry out our mission," the man replied.

"And what might that be?"

The man smiled. Roman didn't think smiles could get any more sinister than Neo or Cinder level, but this was up there. "The unification and control of all worlds, under our banner. Even Remnant."

Roman knew this was his last chance to back out. He'd been offered power beyond compare, but he had it before, right before he "died". Who was to say this wouldn't end the same way? What if nothing changed?

…no. It had to. It all had to change.

And he was going to be the one to change it this time.

Roman grabbed the shield from the man's hand. "You've got yourself a deal, Mister…?"

The man turned away the instant Roman took the shield, as did his soldiers. "Akaba. Leo Akaba. You may call me the Professor." The group walked to the door, the soldiers taking point. As the doors began to close and the light began to fade, Akaba looked behind himself at the two former Remnants. "Welcome to Duel Academy. I hope you don't disappoint me." He reached into his jacket and pulled out a cane-Roman's cane-and tossed it into the room. Roman dove forward and caught it in his free hand, catching a glimpse of Akaba glaring down as the doors slammed shut, leaving Roman and Neo alone in the room. Roman stood back up, Melodic Cudgel safely in his grasp. "I hope you know what you're getting us into, Neo," he grumbled, looking back at his right hand lady. Neo merely giggled, a hand to her mouth in a silent motion of laughter. "Yeah, that was pretty overdramatic. Why do they always go for the theatrics?"

Roman looked his shield over, noticing something inside a slot on the side. Bringing it closer to his face, he realized that inside the shield was a deck of cards. As he reached for the deck, the shield shifted, opening a side compartment with a lone card lying inside. Roman took the card out, flipping it over. The purple card (he was starting to sense a pattern here) showed a picture of a flaming Phoenix, labeled "Blaze Fenix, The Burning Bombardment Bird."

"The hell?" Roman looked over at Neo, who held a card up of her own: a robotic woman with wires spewing from all directions, "El Shaddol Construct." Roman raised an eyebrow. "We're going to unite all the worlds and control everything in existence…with cards."

He was starting to wonder whether or not it would've been better if the Grimm had taken him out of his misery.