The empty, abandoned Game Shop drove Yuugi almost to tears. The store had been the pride of joy of his grandfather, and the headquarters and symbol of the Resistance. He looked over his shoulders more than three times as he walked away from the last thing he had ever owned.
“We will return here, Yuugi,” Anzu told him encouragingly, but he knew she said that exactly because of that - to encourage him. Her words were hollow, even though he was convinced she meant every word. They could never come true, now that they were gearing towards the final confrontation, and he was afraid he would never set foot in the Game Shop again. This was going to be a fight, and casualties would fall, innocents would be killed, the whole world would… no! No one would die today. Yuugi frowned upon his gloomy thoughts. If it were up to him, he would confront the Pharaoh alone, but everyone had reacted in horror to his suggestion, except for Mahaado.
“Please, let me talk to Great Pharaoh first, I can… calm him down,” the magician-General had said. Jounouchi had objected, claiming that Mahaado would immediately chose the Pharaoh’s side, to which the magician had calmly answered that yes, he would chose the Pharaoh’s side immediately.
“My loyalty is for Great Pharaoh only,” he had added. “I am the only one he will listen to without any reservations. I am not looking to destroy any of you. If I had wanted to do that, I have had plenty of opportunity these last days. Do not fear. Allow me to talk to Great Pharaoh first, and we can bring this all to a good end.”
Yuugi squeezed the bundle he held in his arms; a roll of blankets and a few extra pieces of clothing. He didn’t have much possessions, and he certainly didn’t dispose over any guns; Yuugi hated fighting and violence, and the irony didn’t escape him that in this situation, he had nothing to offer his friends but the same empty and hollow words. All these years, all this time, people had put their faith in him, trusted him…but when the time had come to actually do something, there was not much they could do but to run and hide. Still, Yuugi wanted everyone to survive, even if that meant hiding and running - everything was better than to fight and die. But he realized, just as well as anyone else, that running and hiding wouldn’t end the situation. Gozaburo had the advantage of his powerful Generals and his Elite Troops, and they wouldn’t give up their position just like that. The Resistance had nothing but their fists to fight, and their hope and faith to hold onto.
“Yuugi?” Jounouchi walked next to him.
“Jounouchi-kun,” he said.
“Yuugi, you look like you’re about to walk right into your grave.”
“Onii-chan!”
“Sorry, sorry, Shizuka,” Jounouchi apologized and hid his face behind the bundle he was carrying; more blankets, with candles, matches and bottles of lamp oil rolled into them. “Still, my comment stands, Yuugi.”
“I will confront the Pharaoh even if it’s the last thing I’ll ever do,” Yuugi said, determined. “You have put all this faith into me for all those years, and it’s not your fault that I never did something to…”
“Wait, what, what was that again?” Jounouchi said, dumbfounded. “You never did something?”
“I never fought,” Yuugi said. “I never tried to acquire guns, weapons, any means of power to dethrone Gozaburo, I never did something to relief Gozaburo of his power, to overthrow him…”
“Yuugi, we know your choice of fighting isn’t with weapons,” Anzu said. Her eyes brimmed with compassion, and her voice was calm. “Mine neither. Your way of fighting was different, but not any less important: you gave so many people a reason to live, by giving them shelter, by giving them that very same hope and faith for a better, new world. Without you, there wouldn’t be a Resistance in the first place.”
“You wouldn’t be our Yuugi-kun if you would give us guns and ordered us to start shooting,” Shizuka piped up.
“Face it Yuugi, you’re not a fighter in the sense of physical combat, but you’re a fighter in many other ways,” Honda agreed. “Like Anzu said,” he shared a look with his fiancée, “your way of fighting is different, but no one can hold onto a gun unless he has a goal to believe in and have hope for.”
Yuugi blushed faintly. He was grateful for the support of his friends. It was times like these that he regarded them as more as friends - as family. Everyone had lost loved ones, and friendships were usually shallow and fleeting in this insecurity - but Yuugi knew his friends would never desert him, and vice versa; their bond was way, way too strong. He nodded, and didn’t pursue the topic; he had to concentrate at the matter at hand. Honda had returned earlier from scouting the area, with nothing to report. No one was in sight… yet. No one either was saying a word about Mahaado being in their midst. The General walked in utter silence, using his staff as a cane, it clicked on the ground with every step he took.
Malik and Bakura didn’t participate in the conversation. They weren’t carrying anything but their Items, glistening in the early morning sun. Bakura’s Ring chimed as he walked, the prongs dancing on his chest, whereas Malik’s Rod was tucked firmly into his belt loop, the menacing sharp blades pressing against his back. Both their faces were set in stone, looking grim, which had an involuntarily comical effect on Bakura; his face was just too soft and gentle to be carrying that kind of expression. Malik however, looked like he could eat barbed wire for breakfast, and everybody left those two alone. Yuugi wanted to know what Isis had told them exactly, but found it inappropriate to ask either Malik or Bakura about it.
While knowing that every other member of the Resistance had been evacuated into safety, Yuugi was worried about his own close friends. He hoped and prayed he could bring this all to a good ending, without anyone suffering. He didn’t even want the Pharaoh to suffer - if it were up to him, they would talk to one another, with the help of Mahaado, and work out the misunderstandings in the world. Jounouchi wasn’t that far off by calling him naïve, Yuugi was well aware of it, but he had at least to give it a try, for his own sake. His grandfather and his own father had taught him that, and he would respect their teachings.
“Let’s just move on,” he murmured, and suddenly noticed that a large shadow was falling over him. Just as he was about to ask if anyone else noticed that shadow, Mahaado urged them to take cover.
“What is it? What’s going on?” Jounouchi hissed. He stopped breathing when a low, growling sound rumbled through the sky. Shaking, he looked up, along with everyone else…and a large, gigantic large, humongous large, red beast flew over his head, wings spread out, as if carried by the wind.
“Osiris,” Mahaado said reverently and inclined his head. “Fortunately, he has not seen us. He is probably focused on my… Great Pharaoh only. This is bad. I did not expect him to already summon a God. Osiris is not weak, and he will attack on sight if he spots anyone other but Great Pharaoh.”
“I’ve never seen something like that before,” Anzu panted and squeezed Honda’s arm. Shizuka had flung herself into her brother’s arms, gift basket upside down on the ground. She had dropped it as soon as she heard the menacing rumble. Unable to identify - and see - its source, she searched for protection, from the only person she trusted unconditionally: Jounouchi.
“Anzu-san, Shizuka-chan, go immediately to the shelters and wait there for us,” Yuugi said. “It’s far too dangerous for you outside, and…”
“No, I’ll stay with onii-chan,” Shizuka said. “I’m sorry, Yuugi-kun, but I can’t leave him alone..!”
“It’s too dangerous, Shizuka-chan,” he repeated. “Please. Please go with Anzu-san…”
“I’m staying too,” Anzu said, though her voice was shaky. “I’m staying with Honda. If anyone of you gets hurt…”
Yuugi threw her a look to practically beg her, but she shook her head. Mahaado tapped with his staff on the ground.
“We better follow the God; where he is, Great Pharaoh will be closeby.”
“Great Pharaoh this, Great Pharaoh that, I’m getting so tired of that dude,” Jounouchi muttered.
“We have no other way to refer to him, Jounouchi-kun,” Yuugi said. “He doesn’t have a name.”
“Well then, boo-hoo.”
“Onii-chan!”
“Silence!” Mahaado turned around. “If you want Osiris to return and burn you all to death, keep talking as loud like that! The God will not make any discern between all of us.”
Jounouchi remained silent, offended, and kept his grip on Shizuka who had forgotten all about her precious gift basket. Honda and Anzu followed with Malik and Bakura in tow, and Yuugi closed the line.
“Hey,” Jounouchi spoke up again, though this time with far less volume, “isn’t this the intersection where we…”
“Yeah,” Honda whispered in return, his arm almost turning blue from Anzu’s tight grip. “I know what you mean, buddy.” It was the same intersection where they had captured Mahaado.
“Silence,” the General said again, but without any commanding tone to it. “I can see them from here.” His face suddenly fell. “He has Marik and Bakura with him.”
“What? They’re right here,” Jounouchi said, mishearing Marik’s name. Malik was already moving forward, but Yuugi grabbed him at the arm.
“Not yet.”
“Stay here,” Mahaado said. “I will take care of this. As soon as I have calmed him down, I will raise my staff, all right? You can come out then.”
“I hope that whatever you’re going to say to him, works,” Jounouchi said. Yuugi couldn’t make out if his friend was serious or not, and felt his stomach clench and coil from the anxiety. His view was partially obscured, and the intersection was large; he couldn’t really make out what was going on.
Mahaado nodded and started to cross the road, his staff resting at his hip. The magician-General felt calmness descend upon him with every step that he took; every step brought him closer to his Pharaoh. Soon, everything would be all right. He could see him standing from here; the smaller man was talking to both Marik and Bakura, who were so focused on him that they forgot to keep an eye out on the streets. Their dedication to the Pharaoh might be commendable, but they were lousy bodyguards. Mahaado suppressed his urge to snort out loud.
“… can’t you concentrate on his heka and feel it?”
“You can, my Pharaoh. When you take off that armor.” Mahaado’s voice rolled over the empty intersection, and all three in front of him were startled, surprised by the sudden voice. The Pharaoh turned around with disbelief on his face, immediately replacing it with a look of pure excitement when he recognized Mahaado.
The General immediately bowed, his knee on the pavement as he folded his robes around him. Approaching the Pharaoh without armor would hopefully show the other that he was all right and that nothing bad had happened to him.
“Mahaado! Thank the Gods!” The Pharaoh stepped towards him. “Get up, get up!”
“Thank you, my Pharaoh,” Mahaado said and ignored Marik’s glare, dripping with hatred, and Bakura’s indifferent, yet cautious look at him. He rose and was surprised to see the Pharaoh standing so close to him that they were merely inches apart.
“I am all right - nothing has happened to me. In fact, the Resistance took great care of me,” he said.
“The Resistance,” the Pharaoh hissed and Osiris was so close the magician-General could feel - and smell - its breath. “They took you away from me.”
“We need to talk, my Pharaoh,” Mahaado said. “Please. You have to take off your armor, it is influencing you in a bad way. Trust me, my Pharaoh, I have never lied to you.”
“Pretty Pharaoh isn’t allowed to take his armor off,” Marik immediately cried out.
“Gozaburo doesn’t like it when he’s out of his armor,” Bakura said at the same time. Mahaado threw them a disdainful look.
“And exactly why, my Pharaoh, do you think that Gozaburo insists you wear it? It protects you, yes, but it also hinders you.”
The Pharaoh’s hand went to his chest, searching for something that wasn’t there. “It does not hinder me, Mahaado. I need it to search for my Puzzle…”
“My Pharaoh,” Mahaado said and extended his hand. “You are very tired, and you have been used by Gozaburo all this time, each and every day. We have to sit down and talk about this calmly. You know it yourself, when you look deep down your heart, that things are not normal, not the way they used to be…”
“Pharaoh-sama, he’s lying,” Bakura said. He showed Mahaado a similar disdainful look. “Why are you so hyped up about Pharaoh-sama to take off his armor?”
“I like to see pretty Pharaoh strip in the middle of the street too,” Marik added, “but it’s dangerous out here, and you want him to take off his armor why?”
“Do not be stupid,” Mahaado said. He waved with his hand. “I do not want anything to happen to my Pharaoh. We will have to go sit down somewhere, and talk this over quietly and rationally…”
“Pretty magician-General is brainwashed by the Resistance,” Marik suddenly said. “He would never suggest taking off your armor, pretty Pharaoh!”
Bakura agreed. “The only reason why he wants you to take it off, is to make you vulnerable! Don’t believe him, Pharaoh-sama!”
Mahaado was taken aback by their words, and raised his hands in defense, before lowering them down the next second. He didn’t need to defend himself against these two, and he didn’t owe them any explanation. His words were for the Pharaoh only, who seemed high-strung and at the very end of his nerves. Please believe me, Mahaado pleaded mentally. I am your friend, I am your loyal servant. You know I am right, you have to know I am right… Gods, what did Gozaburo do to you? It was only then, he realized, that the offending armor the Pharaoh was wearing, was different. It wasn’t the purplish one, but a dark midnight blue; he had never seen this one before. Judging from the tense, yet unbalanced look in the Pharaoh’s eyes, Mahaado was convinced that Gozaburo had altered this armor even more to make him react this slow and unstable. His Pharaoh would never hesitate or doubt him.
“Is it true?”
“I have not been brainwashed, my Pharaoh,” Mahaado said. “Quite the contrary. The Resistance has taken good care of me after my capture, which did not have to happen in the first place if Marik and Bakura had paid more attention.”
The Pharaoh turned his head around to the other two, who frowned, but quickly put up a weak smile.
“Pretty Pharaoh already punished us,” Marik took a step forward, “so don’t think you can hold it against us any longer, pretty magician-General. You lie. You keep pretty Pharaoh away from us. You should go. Go away!”
“Yes, go,” the Pharaoh repeated.
“No, my Pharaoh,” Mahaado said. “I will not go. I will not go before we have put an end to this. Not until we have talked this over and you are out of Gozaburo’s hands. Please. You are very tired, my Pharaoh. Summoning and maintaining Osiris this close must deplete you of all your strength..!”
“Now he wants you to call back God!” Bakura protested. He narrowed his eyes, recognizing an opportunity to dispose himself of the magician-General. “Pharaoh-sama, I would say that your friend here is clearly deluded, brainwashed, and is trying to persuade you to do things to leave you vulnerable and open for an attack!”
“Enough!” The Pharaoh cut him off, and Mahaado’s hopes sprang up once again. Osiris however, opened its mouth and hovered close to the Pharaoh, and the magician-General didn’t dare to move, nailed to his spot.
“I have found you, my friend,” the Pharaoh spoke, with a distinct tone of affection in his voice. “We will return to the tower and we will all stay together.”
“No, we can not go back. My Pharaoh, do you not see how you have been manipulated? All this destruction, all this pain and anger… you are suffering, I am suffering, we are all suffering. There has to be a way we can solve this. There is reason…”
“Lies.” Marik was close to the Pharaoh, but his pupil-less eyes were focused on Mahaado. “We won’t listen to your lies. Gozaburo has always taken good care of us.”
“The man has beaten you, Marik,” Mahaado said, quite surprised about the other’s vehemence to defend the man who had caused him so much pain. “You are still showing the scars…”
Marik licked his lips. “Pretty pain is nothing if it means I can be with pretty Pharaoh.”
Bakura didn’t add to the conversation, and his eyes darted over the streets. With a bit of luck, he could discredit Mahaado enough to cause a rift between him and the Pharaoh, so he wouldn’t be as enamored with him as before. Just as Bakura was about to say something, his sharp eyes caught a minor movement across the intersection… the direction Mahaado had come from. He mastered the Shadows, and they told him that there were people hiding in them.
“Who are watching us, Mahaado?” he asked.
Taken by surprise, the magician-General turned his head. “What do you mean?”
“There are people over there.” Bakura pointed across the street, squinting his eyes. The sun was rising, but Osiris’ shadow was still large, and where there was a shadow, Bakura could control it.
“They are humans,” Mahaado said. “Hoping for this world to stop living in terror, to be free of all that haunts them.”
“Are there any Elite Troops nearby?” the Pharaoh asked.
“Not that I know of,” Marik said. “We can always send some troops over here to wipe out this whole area.”
“No!” Mahaado barked, and everything happened at the same time. He lifted up his hand and realized too late that it was his hand holding the staff. Osiris’ mouth became a hot furnace, heat and light concentrating for an attack, Marik and Bakura both lunged forward, and darkness loomed over the city for one second, only to be replaced by bright light, too bright to look at, and the next second the whole world was turned upside down, stone, rubble and sand flying through the sky, fire melting asphalt and metal, and the intersection turned into a massive crater.
----------------------------
When Mahaado finally opened his eyes again, he was lying on his back, shoved against the wall, discarded like an annoying fly. Debris surrounded him, large chunks of asphalt on mere millimeters of his body… and amidst the attack, he had lost his staff. Groaning, he tried to move, but cried out in pain. His leg..! He fumbled around, his hand touching his thigh, his knee, his calf, until his fingers hit a shard of metal, firmly embedded in the flesh.
The explosion… Osiris had launched an attack, but had his master told him to do so? The God didn’t act on its own, unless it felt its master was in severe danger. Mahaado couldn’t recall if the Pharaoh had called out an attack. He assumed the God had acted on its own after all, perhaps interpreting Mahaado raising his staff as a threat… He winced as blood poured over his leg and dripped into his sandals. Shivering, his fingers clenched around the shard of metal, trying to take it out.
“I wouldn’t do that if I were you,” a female voice came out of nowhere, and he was relieved to see it was Anzu. Her face was dirty and smudged, and her clothes were torn, but it didn’t look like she had sustained any injuries. “Let me take a look at it.”
Mahaado had learned from Yuugi that she was a nurse, and allowed her to check his injury. She tsk-ed, frowning.
“Fortunately, it’s only a flesh wound. Good thing that you’re wearing those robes, that makes for plenty of bandage material.” It was a bad joke, but he had to snicker anyway, but it was more a bitter snort than a genuine laugh.
“What happened?” Anzu asked while her fingers tore the fabric into neat, even pieces. She used the makeshift bandages to tend to his wound, with an ease that was disheartening and comforting at the same time. Mahaado shook his head as he sat upright, using the wall for support, watching the girl’s work in rapt fascination.
“I am afraid that Osiris thought its master was in danger and thusly decided to attack,” he said. “The blast went into your direction… is everyone all right?”
“We fled,” Anzu said and shrugged, albeit brusquely. The worry was etched on her face. “Yuugi saw you raising your hand and wanted to move forward, but Jounouchi dragged him out of the way.”
“It is all my fault,” Mahaado muttered, ashamed. “If someone has died…”
“I think the explosion flung us in different directions.” She shivered. “Shizuka…she was screaming so loud. I hope that she managed to hold onto her brother…”
“Honda..? Yuugi..?”
“I don’t know.” She bit her lip. “I really don’t know.”
He tilted his head backwards and groaned. The Pharaoh, Marik and Bakura were around here somewhere, and in their current state of mind they wouldn’t show mercy to any member of the Resistance. That thrice-damned armor..! His Pharaoh, in his true and rightful form, would never, ever have allowed such a thing to happen. Mahaado was so deeply consumed by his own thoughts that he didn’t notice Anzu pulling the shard of metal out of his calf until the pain hit him.
---------------------
“Buddy… hey buddy, are you all right?”
“Stop shaking me Jounouchi, you know I hate it when you shake me like that.”
“Oh shut up, you love me.”
Honda coughed and winced from the pain. He felt like he had been run over, or had met with a massive wall and the wall crumbled down on him. It didn’t help that he was covered with debris and chunks of cement. He dusted himself off, coughing once more.
“What the hell happened?”
“I dunno, man. Let me help you up.” Jounouchi looked like he had suffered the same fate; his clothing was torn, and the lower part of his shirt was scorched, the exposed skin showing a suspiciously raw and red color. His arms and face were smudged and clumps of dirt stuck in his wild hair. He stood upright, albeit weakly, and bend over to remove the rubble on Honda’s legs.
“Can you roll over?”
Honda groaned as he obeyed. His body felt heavy, muscles aching all over. Jounouchi reached for him and helped him up. Honda swayed a little until he found his balance again.
“Man, that so wasn’t funny.”
Jounouchi dusted off his clothes, ignoring his burned skin. “We have to find the others. Fast.”
Honda could tell his friend was anxious, and he knew exactly why - Shizuka wasn’t with him. He was sure he had seen the girl latched onto her brother before the explosion, but she was nowhere to be seen. This didn’t bode very well for Shizuka’s fate, alone and disorientated. This was no time to take it easy;; they had to find Shizuka, and fast indeed.
“We’ll find her. We’ll find her alive and well, Jounouchi.”
The other nodded, a grim look on his face, and opened his mouth to reply when he was interrupted by a cackle.
“Alive and well… you humans always hold the frailest hopes, and shed stupid tears when you find your hopes dead.”
“This isn’t the time, Bakura,” Honda said, growling. The boy apparently had survived without as much as a speck of dirt on him, even though his hair was ruffled and wild, and he lacked the gloomy, black trenchcoat he used to wear. Like the others, Honda had barely interacted with Bakura or Malik, but he hadn’t expected the shy, quiet Bakura to say such… creepy things.
Jounouchi turned around and shook his fist at him. “You better help us find my sister, or get out of my way!”
“What way?”
“Malik,” Jounouchi said, “where the hell…”
He halted mid-sentence. The other person joining Bakura looked like Malik, looked strikingly similar when it came to physique and the look on his face, but it wasn’t him - if only for his hair, which was definitely very different.. it was just as menacing as his scowl, ten times more intense and filled with pure hatred than his namesake.
“I don’t think these are the Malik and Bakura we know,” Honda said slowly.
“Isis and Yuugi mentioned something about bodyguards, right?” Jounouchi’s eyes darted over the debris, scanning for something to use as a weapon. Honda gritted through his teeth. Their opponents looked skinny yet wiry, and he knew better than to have looks deceive him. Honda was a fighter, and he had encountered heavy-set people moving like the wind and small people showing the same strength as a professional wrestler. From the looks of these two, they were as unpredictable as they came - which made it even more difficult. Both he and Jounouchi shifted into a fight stance, back to back, close to each other.
“You know Isis,” another voice spoke. A much smaller person came to stand between them, and surprisingly, the two stepped, reverently, to the side. “Where is she?”
“Yuugi? What the hell..!”
They both knew he wasn’t Yuugi. Even though he was exactly the same height and had similar hair - they had always thought no one, but absolutely no one else could have the same hair as absurd as Yuugi - and even his voice was the same, only a few octaves lower… he wasn’t Yuugi. It was the armor, of course. Yuugi would never wear something as menacing yet pompous as that, never mind that it looked pretty much indestructible. It could never be Yuugi, not after they had caught his eyes, and his eyes were hard to miss. Honda heard Jounouchi gulping just before he did the same. If he had thought that the sneering disdain in Bakura’s voice or the hatred-filled menace on Marik’s face had been bad, it all paled in comparison to those blood red, anger and destruction filled narrow eyes, framed with exceptionally long, dark lashes which in a strange way stressed the bloody color of the pupils.
“Where is she?”
“She’s dead,” Jounouchi bluntly replied. “She told us all about you, Pharaoh dude.”
Honda heaved a sigh. Diplomacy had never been Jounouchi’s forte. He quickly tried to estimate their chances. Maybe they could fight those two bodyguards, but with the Pharaoh around…however, that red dragon beast was nowhere to be seen. Maybe the God was gone?
“You will pay for this insolence,” the Pharaoh hissed. “The fire of heavens will descend upon you!”
“Blah blah blah,” Jounouchi said.
“Pretty Ishizu sister is dead?” The Malik-lookalike actually seemed to be affected by this news. The Bakura-clone just threw him a death glare, and punched against his shoulder.
“Careful Jounouchi, don’t piss him off. If he’s going to summon another God, we’re definitely toast,” Honda whispered to his friend.
“They are telling lies,” the Pharaoh said. “They are responsible for what happened to Mahaado. They will have to die!”
“Hey now, wait a minute-”
“Summon pretty golden God, pretty Pharaoh,” the Malik-lookalike spoke, “we’ll keep this vermin away from you.”
“Vermin?” Jounouchi took a few steps forward, balling his fists. “Who do you dare call vermin? It’s because of assholes like you that we needed to hide…”
“And you had better stayed in your holes,” Bakura answered. “Summon the God, Pharaoh-sama. We’ll take out this Resistance once and for all, and cleanse this city!”
“We can’t let him get away,” Honda growled. “We can’t allow him the time to summon another God!”
“Leave it to me!” Jounouchi sped forwards, his fists clenched, ready to throw a punch. He suddenly gagged and choked, when someone forcefully tugged at his shirt.
“No, Jounouchi.”
“What?”
Even the Pharaoh had to do a double take when he saw the other two who had just about arrived. Smudged and bruised, but alive and kicking, and unmistakably the mirror images of Marik and Bakura. He exchanged looks of utter confusion and bewilderment with them. Bakura shrugged, whereas Marik pursed his lips, his eyes radiating even more hatred.
“Summon pretty golden God,” he repeated. “We’ll deal with this vermin, and we’ll end this all in one, giant blow!”
Bakura nodded. Wherever this look-alike had popped up from, he was certain he could send him back. He was patient, he could deal with a sudden change of plans. There was always an advantage to a change, and he had no qualms fighting off a doppelganger, even if he did have to -
“They have Items,” he said and now a slight hint of fear trickled into his voice.
“What? Those weak little shitheads,” Marik said, but his tone changed too - warily, cautiously.
The other Bakura’s pendant was visible, the prongs rattling against his chest. Malik reached behind him, taking out the Sennen Rod from his belt loop.
“Jounouchi, Honda, go after the Pharaoh,” Malik said calmly while his fingers curled itself around the Rod. With a click, he broke the Rod apart. Jounouchi blinked when he saw that Malik didn’t break it, but merely unscrewed it, the click revealing a small mechanism to take it apart, showing a very nasty, very sharp dagger. He looked at it in morbid fascination, until Honda whacked at his elbow.
“Come on, let’s go!” He hurriedly pushed Jounouchi out of the way, after throwing a last look at Malik.
“You are the darkness of my mind and soul,” he snarled. “My sister told me about you, and how you were created. That’s what you are - a creation. And any creation can be killed!”
“Such nice words,” Marik said, though his eyes followed every movement with the Rod, especially the dagger. “What more did pretty Ishizu sister say before she died? Did you kill her? I guess you did, didn’t you? Such a pretty light, surrounded by Darkness…”
“Shut up shut up shut up!” Malik stepped closer, holding the dagger in front of him with every intention to stab the other. “You have no right, no reason, no meaning to exist!”
“I’ll take the pretty gold Item from you,” Marik spoke excitedly, facing Malik with his arms wide open, inviting to hurt him, fingers clawed. “I’ll take it from you, and use it to slit your fucking throat!”
---------------------------
Otogi was convinced his hairs had turned gray spontaneously. He had to have aged considerably during the last few hours. He didn’t have a mirror handy to verify it, but all this tension and sneaking around weren’t exactly helpful for his already high strung nerves. With every move he made, the bag he was holding rattled conspicuously; the Items were all lumped together. They were fairly grand in size, and at the last moment, Otogi had snatched a heavy golden box from the vault, emptying it of all its flashy golden objects. It didn’t look like an Item, but who knows - whatever it was, if it turned out to be an Item, Otogi had saved himself the trouble of going back to the vault for another time. The tension and suspense were killing him.
Kaiba had been right - the building was operating on half its usual electrical power. It worked in their advantage, as a few locks on the vault had been considerably weakened by this. Kaiba had taken care of the other locks while Otogi was climbing the emergency stairs, on his way to the 47th floor. How exactly Kaiba had done it, he didn’t know, but Otogi had been able to open the vault door with one swift tug at the handle. The door was heavy and as soon as he could fit his arm through, he had fished out the Items and stuffed them into the bag, all the while his heart beating like a jackhammer.
The floor was empty, much to his surprise. He took it that everyone was still busy upstairs, now that the Pharaoh had blown away the top floor. How long would his lucky streak hold on? He wasted precious time listening to footsteps, a cough, any noise indicating someone being around. The silence was almost eerie, suspicious. He couldn’t afford to linger here, and the nerve-wrecking fear of getting caught all but paralyzed him. Otogi had to force himself to take each and every step - if he was caught once more, the Kaiba brothers couldn’t help him. Another step, and the gold inside the bag jingled. In the deserted emergency staircase every little sound echoed and Otogi stood still, startled. He realized it were just the Items, cluttered together in the bag; he made for a bad burglar, and every second took away another decade of his lifespan. Just two more floors! It was taking him ages, and he didn’t have that much time left. More so, he didn’t have time in the first place; he should’ve been long gone! Otogi straightened himself. Stop whining. Without Kaiba, you wouldn’t have even gotten close to the Items, and Yuugi needs them. How these tacky golden Items could help establish world peace, he didn’t know - but it was the hope he had latched himself on to, like many others, like the Resistance, and hope was all worth it.
Relief washed over him when he reached the right floor. Otogi silently opened the door and made sure that nobody was in the hallway. Pushing the door further open, he slipped through it, clutching the bag to his chest, wincing from the noise. With just a few footsteps, he was at his room and quickly entered, releasing the breath he was holding.
“There you are,” Mokuba hissed. He looked anxious, afraid, and that had everything to do with his brother, who was keeled over on the bed, the laptop on the floor. Otogi put the bag down and closed the distance between them. He immediately put his fingers on Kaiba’s neck. There was a pulse, albeit weakly. It was a miracle Kaiba had managed to hold on for as long as he did, but now his body was giving out on him, fast.
“Kaiba,” he said, urgently. “Kaiba!”
He made a noncommittal sound, and his hand twitched weakly.
“Get up, Kaiba. I have the Items. We have to get out of here.”
“I... can’t… move,” Kaiba muttered, his eyes closed, face buried into the pillow.
“Nii-sama,” Mokuba shook his shoulder again. “Nii-sama..?”
“Your brother needs medical attention, kid,” Otogi said and he frowned. Anzu was the only one he knew with sufficient medical knowledge, but he didn’t need a doctor to see that Kaiba was severely dehydrated and malnourished. His body simply couldn’t go on. “We have to get him to the Resistance, I know someone who is a nurse. If only we can reach them in time…”
“My brother will not die!” Mokuba yelled out loud and he resumed shaking his shoulder again.
“Stop that,” Otogi batted his hand away, “He has suffered enough, and the only thing that kept him going was to rescue you from Noa’s clutches. His body is weakened, but his mind is stronger than anyone’s I have ever met.”
Mokuba started to smile at Otogi, proud of hearing those words about his brother. Otogi returned the smile; none of this wasn’t the kid’s fault. “He needs medical attention,” he repeated, “and we’re going to get him out of here.”
“I know how,” Mokuba piped up. He slid from the bed and grabbed at his brother’s laptop, pulling it into his own lap. “Gozaburo has a car.”
Otogi scratched the back of his head. “Even if we managed to reach the garage on the lower levels, I don’t know how to drive.”
“Nii-sama does,” Mokuba beamed at him, conveniently ignoring the fact that his brother was in no condition to drive. His fingers worked just as rapidly over the keyboard, tapping away at the keys before he exclaimed a loud “A-ha!”
“What is it?”
“Due to the faulty electricity, the garage doors are open. If we manage to get downstairs, we can take the car and drive off!”
“Exactly what you said: if we manage to get downstairs.”
Mokuba bit on his lower lip. “Nii-sama,” he said softly. “What are we going to do?”
Otogi raked a hand through his hair. How difficult could driving a car be? No one in his circle of friends had possessed a car; in this society driving was the summit of decadence, and low on the priority list - survival came first. First things first, Otogi thought and started wrapping the Items in articles of clothing, so they wouldn’t make any noise or get damaged. He put them in his backpack, adding some more clothes to cover them and topped it off with some of their provisions; some food and drink and a warm blanket. He hoisted it on his back - still pretty heavy - and secured the straps around his shoulders and waist. This was one precious backpack, and he couldn’t afford to lose it.
“You know the way downstairs?” He asked Mokuba. He had never been lower than the 20th floor. Gozaburo had never send him to the car or the garage. The man had never taken a drive as far as Otogi could recall, and he hoped that the car was still in good condition, or they were screwed… Mokuba nodded. He closed the laptop and shoved it into another bag with shoulder straps, the look on his face nothing but determined. Otogi kept a moment to himself before leaning into Kaiba and helped him up on his feet. It all depended on him now; if he couldn’t get the three of them downstairs, they were done for. Sooner or later someone would notice the vault door being open, and every second lingering here meant a second closer to being discovered. The shock of the summon of the God had to wear off by now; if Gozaburo or Noa returned to their quarters…
Otogi ignored his body demanding for a rest. It was all up to him. He could do this. He had volunteered for this job in the first place, he had willingly taken the risk to work for their enemy and spy from the inside. It had taken him days, if not weeks, to convince Yuugi to give him permission. He was going to finish this, and bring the Kaiba brothers to safety, along with the Items.
“Otogi,” Mokuba said, voice shaky, his eyes filled with worry. He knew the concern was destined for his brother, not for himself or any of the Items.
“We’re going to make it,” Otogi answered. He slipped an arm under Kaiba’s, hoisting him up from the bed. They both groaned - how could Kaiba still weigh as heavy as this while being so emaciated? Otogi motioned for Mokuba to take the lead, and the kid hopped over to the door, opening it. He pulled his head back after checking the hallway for activity.
“No one in sight,” he said. “I’ll call the elevator!”
Otogi nodded and started to move. Kaiba tried to walk with him, but he was merely frustrating Otogi as he moved his feet. “Let it go,” he hissed. “Just lean on me.”
He received a grumble for an answer, but Kaiba lifted up his own hand to push the door open. It was a weird and awkward way to coordinate, but at least he was willing to cooperate. Dragging him went faster than allowing him to walk on his own, and so Otogi stepped forward, down the hallway, toward the elevator where Mokuba was pushing the buttons. We’re going to make it. Hold on, everyone!
----------------------
Yuugi was still alive, even if he didn’t know why and how exactly. The last thing he remembered, the last thing he saw was a giant… ball of fire, raw, hot energy coming straight at him, and it would have killed him if it hadn’t been for…
“Jounouchi-kun,” he said and immediately coughed. His lungs were filled with dust and smoke, and he coughed a few times more, dry heaving, almost choking on the cramped reaction of his body. His eyes started to tear up, and if he had been standing upright he would have fallen to the ground. He let it wash over him, he didn’t have much of a choice; his body cramped up a few more times before the coughing subsided. Taking in big gulps of breath, setting off another coughing fit, Yuugi forced himself to calm down. Slowly but surely he regained control of his breathing. His eyes stung, and his hands searched for his handkerchief in the pockets of his pants.
His eyesight was a little blurred and troubled, probably from looking directly into that… energy thing that had been released by the red dragon. Osiris, Mahaado had called him, and it was a genuine God… possessing enough power to destroy everything and everyone in its path. Blinking, Yuugi waited another minute for his eyesight to improve. He decided to accept the spots swimming in his vision, as he didn’t think it was going to get better anytime soon. He was wasting his time here, he needed to help his friends…if they hadn’t died in the attack.
That thought made him shiver and he got up, groaning as pain flared through him. The blast had flung him away, and he assumed the same happened to the others. He didn’t see anyone of his friends around here, but he didn’t trust his bad eyesight. Yuugi didn’t dare to call out their names - the God might still be nearby, it wasn’t exactly safe around here. He recognized his surroundings, to his surprise he wasn’t that far from the intersection. Strange, he had expected to be miles away… it felt like an eternity as he had been thrown through the air, with the screams of his friends still ringing in his ears. Jounouchi-kun. Honda-kun. Anzu-chan… Shizuka-chan… Malik and Bakura, Mahaado, what had happened to them?
Suddenly, he picked up noises. Yuugi quickly hid behind the remains of a wall, his heart beating. Someone was approaching, and he didn’t know who it was. Friend or foe?
“Onii-chan… onii-chan, where are you?”
A soft, pleading girl’s voice, and a voice he recognized all too well. Relieved, Yuugi jumped up from behind the wall and waved at the girl, only to realize the next second how stupid he was behaving.
“Shizuka-chan, over here!” He whispered. The girl turned immediately to his direction, her feet shuffling, cradling her arms to her chest.
“Yuugi-kun,” she said with overwhelming relief. “Have you seen onii-chan?”
“No, not yet,” he answered honestly. He closed the distance between them and took her by the wrist to guide her across the street, avoiding the rubble and potholes.
“What happened? Everyone started to scream and I held onto onii-chan, but there was so much wind and it felt so hot, like an oven…”
“It was an explosion,” Yuugi said. It wasn’t the complete truth, but he wasn’t going to scare the girl by describing the God and its attack to her. She was upset enough as it was. “Oh, your arm..!”
“It’s nothing,” she said. The skin was clearly burned, and her pinky finger was bending in an unnatural angle. She had probably flailed around wildly to find some kind of support; Yuugi would know, as he had done the same. His own fingers and hands bore the same scratches and cuts as hers. Her hair was tangled and matted, and hung in wild, unkempt strands before her face.
Yuugi tore fabric from his shirt to bandage her bleeding hand. There was nothing he could do about her broken finger. She smiled half-heartedly, aching to resume looking for her brother. Everything else was just a hold-up to her, and she hopped from one foot to another.
“Stand still, Shizuka-chan,” he chided her gently, and used the last piece of fabric to tie her hair back, so it fell in a simple ponytail over her shoulder.
“Thank you, Yuugi-kun,” she said. “We must find onii-chan and the others!”
“You’re right,” he answered. “We’re not far from the intersection. What do you say - shall we go back to our original location and search from there?”
“Sounds good to me,” Shizuka showed a tentative smile, “I don’t know where we are anyway.” She was disorientated from the impact of the God’s attack; the streets had changed, literally turned upside down. Speaking of the God.. where was the dragon anyway? Yuugi took Shizuka’s good hand and guided her back to the intersection… or what was left of it. He stared into a gaping crater, bottomless at first sight, and he shivered.
“Yuugi-kun, what’s the matter?”
Cold fear clutched at his heart. It was a miracle that he and Shizuka had survived, and he hoped that none of his friends had been caught by the blast, disappearing into the still smoldering crater. The force of the destruction made him shiver; it was the middle of the day, and the sun was mild…but the crater was surrounded by an unnatural heat and danger, and he wasn’t shivering from the cold.
“We better go somewhere else, Shizuka-chan,” he said and managed to keep his voice sounding quite normal, “there’s far too much rubble here to get us through.”
“All right,” she answered, almost bubbly, excited now that she had found one of her friends and resumed searching for her brother again. Yuugi directed her into the opposite street, recalling from his grandfather’s stories that this used to be a street with lots of boutiques and vintage clothing stores. Shopping for clothes seemed something from another world to him; he was always so busy with the Resistance that he wore what people gave to him, or what he managed to find himself, even though it was never fitting.
“Yuugi-kun,” Shizuka halted after a while. “I hear something.”
“What, really?” He lowered his voice, and mentally berated himself for zoning out on the girl. He had to be focused! His eyes were still a little teary, and once in a while spots drifted in his line of sight.
“I hear someone mumbling, it’s not that far away,” she said and pointed into another direction. Yuugi swallowed.
“All right, let’s go… maybe it’s someone calling for help.”
“It doesn’t sound like onii-chan, too low,” she muttered. Her hearing was phenomenal, as was her stubborn streak.
“Where exactly is it coming from?”
“Over there.”
Zigzagging across the street, avoiding the large cracks in the pavement, Yuugi guided Shizuka to the other side, into the direction she was pinpointing the origin of the noises. Once they had arrived safely, he planted Shizuka next to a sturdy wall and told her to stay there so he could check it out. He expected her to protest, but apparently since she had figured out it wasn’t her brother, she wasn’t interested in investigating and promised to stay right where she was.
The closer he got, the better Yuugi could hear the mumbling as well. It was rhythmic, repetitive, as if someone was chanting instead of talking. His heart sprung up in the hope that he had found Mahaado, but his instincts told him to be careful. Sneaking alongside the wall, Yuugi was glad he had listened to his instincts as soon as he took a peek around the corner.
In the center of a small town square, no one else but the Pharaoh himself was standing, easily recognizable because of his armor, his back turned to him. From this distance, Yuugi could see the striking similarities of their hair, and oddly enough he tugged at one of his own golden bangs, as if to convince himself his hair was still there. Isis had told him about how much he resembled the Pharaoh, but to see it with his own eyes, from this close… this was his chance to speak to the man himself, and to bring this all to an end!
Yuugi wanted to reveal himself, mustering up all his courage to start speaking. If only he could get his attention…surely enough, they could talk to each other without being provoked to fight? The dragon-God was nowhere in sight, those two bodyguard were nowhere to be seen…this was his ultimate chance! He cleared his throat, took a deep breath and - he was too late. A blinding light swept across the sky. In a reflex, Yuugi closed his eyes, using both his hands to cover his face. Such intensity, such brightness! Had the dragon-God returned? Was this another one of his attacks? The light disappeared as abruptly as it had appeared, and he found himself blinking soon after, staring at a huge, golden…
….orb floating in the sky. He had no other words for it; it was a huge, golden orb, floating. Was that another God? What was going on? Yuugi was still holding his breath. The Pharaoh hadn’t noticed him. The orb… moved. It made a strange, metallic sound as it moved and shifted, changing drastically. Once again there was light, but this time he could easily look right into it. Yuugi wished he hadn’t, after all. Before him, something unfolded, something large, massive..! That orb, it was no longer an orb, morphed into something that he couldn’t comprehend, it was far above anyone’s imagination. His first thought was that it resembled a bird. It spread its gigantic wings, and its huge beak opened to release a loud cry, rupturing the sky. Yuugi’s second thought was that they were all going to die, and he wanted to fall upon his knees and pray for mercy.
Chapter 7 | Chapter 9 |