Maybe this situation would’ve been amusing to him, if it hadn’t been for the Item around the neck of his doppelganger. Bakura was careful – it never paid off to rush into something head first – as he didn’t know his opponent. Their faces and physique were almost identical, but were they also the same in mind and soul? If so, his opponent would prove to be tough, and he would need all his wits and strength to defeat him.
His eyes were all but glued to the pendant. An Item. A veritable Sennen Item, and he wasn’t the only one. That other kid, the Marik look-alike, also had one! How could that be? Hadn’t the Generals searched all over the world for these Items? If only he could get his hands on them… Marik would never part with it if he managed to get one, he loved everything gold. Bakura licked his lips. He had enough tricks up his sleeve to get what he wanted. He wanted to achieve his goal, and with two Items, he could definitely turn the tables around. He didn’t want to be a General himself, far from it, but with two Items, no one would ever boss him around like a mere servant or bodyguard. Who knew what more he could use the Items for…
Licking his lips again, Bakura forced himself to look at his opponent, not at the Item. The other hadn’t said a word since they ‘met’, but kept staring at him. Chocolate brown, soft eyes. Compassionate eyes. Bakura wanted to gag. His doppelganger was a lot friendlier on the eyes, his similar bone-white hair framing a gentle face with soft, almost caressing strands. Bakura shook his head. That he even used these words to mentally describe the other, it was downright sickening.
“Who are you?” He demanded to know. This was a bad joke, a distraction! He didn’t believe in ‘darker side’ of the soul, he was the one and only Bakura.
“Bakura Ryou,” the other answered calmly. The Ring chimed, but it could also have been a simple gust of the wind; the sound send chills down Bakura’s spine. There was something strange about this Item – Bakura craved it the instant he saw it, but a nagging voice in the back of his mind told him that this Item wasn’t for him… for anyone of them. What nonsense!.
“You bear my name, and you look like me, what do you want from me?”
“Your life.”
Now this was amusing; Bakura would’ve howled with laughter if these ominous, unsettling feelings weren’t plaguing him. The other Bakura sounded deadly serious. He narrowed his eyes.
“How do you suggest you are going to take it?” He had the advantage of the shadows, unless this other Bakura had the same powers. Had Gozaburo crafted two similar creations, and was one of them a fluke? No, that couldn’t be. If Gozaburo had created the other Bakura as well, he wouldn’t have given him an Item. Everyone knew that Gozaburo wanted the Items for himself. He licked his lips once more, anxiously.
“You can’t use your shadows against me,” the other Bakura announced. “I am the other part of your soul, and therefore you cannot hurt me, nor can I hurt you.”
“We’ll see about that,” Bakura growled instinctively, and his hands went to his pockets. He had enough knives on him to slice anyone apart – and he wouldn’t hold back on this weird doppelganger! He was going to kill him, and take his Item and hang it from his own neck in victory!
He had two knives out when the sky was brightly lit with an intense, golden glow. He didn’t stop to watch or to marvel at it, even though the other Bakura, slightly confused, looked up, wondering where the light was coming from. Fool! He was wide open for an attack, and Bakura lunged at him, knives flickering in the same, golden light.
-------------------------------
“You’re going to cut yourself, pretty little one.” Marik hid a short chuckle behind his hand, even though his eyes never left the young boy coming towards him.
“I know exactly how to use this,” Malik said. The dagger felt heavy in his hand, heavy yet… disturbingly comfortable. In his mind, he had played this particular scene over and over again, ever since Isis had told him. She was dead because of her visions, those visions he had hated for all his life. He couldn’t deny that they all had come true, and he had hated Isis, the Items, the Gods, everything, for it. He hated that she had become a General, working for that bastard of a Kaiba Gozaburo, and giving him no explanation but the infuriating “My visions have shown me that I have to do this”. Malik had felt alone all his life, darkness eating at his heart, hatred consuming him. His sister a General, his adoptive elder brother killed by the Elite Troops, his hatred had grown so much that it had given birth to an entire different personality - the one that was standing in front of him, listening to the same name with only one letter different. Marik.
He wasn’t going to be fooled by those bland, pupil-less eyes. Isis had told him how strong the other was; hatred and darkness fueled him. Malik forced his breathing under control – he had to be in perfect control. He had to remain calm. If he got angry now, he was going to ruin it for everyone. Ruin it for the whole world. It creeped him out to look at Marik’s face; when relaxed, he almost looked child-like with his flawless skin and small lips pursed. His eyes were darting back and forth, curiously following him.
“You’re going to cut yourself, pretty little one,” Marik repeated. “Kiddies like you shouldn’t be playing with nasty, sharp daggers.”
“You’re the kid here,” Malik snarled. Calm. Keep yourself goddamn calm! “You were created from me, from my family, and you have brought nothing but pain and misery.”
“I don’t even know you,” Marik answered, offended. “This is the first time I meet you! Why all the pretty hatred, pretty little snotty kid?”
“Stop it,” Malik said, relieved that his voice sounded calm, yet stern. “You’re nothing but a creation, so you can be killed. Your darkness won’t taint this world any longer.”
“I haven’t done a thing,” Marik complained, but he shifted his stance and his muscles tightened, tensed. He didn’t clench his fists, but kept his fingers curved, claw-like. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“Enough with this shit,” Malik replied and moved a little to the side. They were close to each other; just a few steps away. They circled around each other, Malik’s eyes on Marik’s claw-like hands, Marik’s eyes on Malik’s Sennen Rod. They were gauging each other’s reaction, taking in each other’s strength, estimating each other’s weak points. At first sight, Marik appeared physically stronger, but Malik had the advantage of a stabbing weapon.
“Enough it is, then,” Marik taunted him. “So, what are you waiting for, mm? Stab me. Come on, stab me, pretty little fucker. Stab me and make me feel pretty pain-pain-pain, let me see pretty blood, let me see pretty bones. Come on then!”
Maybe it was the mocking tone of his voice, maybe it was the tension, or because of Isis’ recent death. Anger possessed Malik, even though he had tried to suppress it. He all but jumped forward, his hand reaching for Marik while he raised his other hand with the dagger up high, ready to plunge it in. Marik was faster and turned just a little, catching the full brunt of Malik’s weight and smoothly moved with him, throwing him on the ground and immediately rolled over, his nails sinking into his skin and slicing, blood immediately welling up.
Malik cried out in pain and frustration. He hammered down with his hand, stabbing Marik in the shoulder blade. The excited cry of pain that elicited the other shocked Malik, even though he should’ve known - Isis had told him that his dark side thrived on blood and pain. He had no time for analysis. Marik grabbed Malik at the throat, sharp nails embedding into his skin.
“You’re so fucking dead,” he growled, his other hand grabbing Malik’s arm with the Sennen Item. His body trembled from the pure excitement of the pain, and his breathing was heavy from pleasure. Blood dripped from his shoulder, blood, such a pretty sight and he wanted to taste it, smear it all over his face and drink it, but for now, he had this pesky kid to deal with.
Suddenly the sky was brightened, and he immediately sat upright, pinning Malik between his legs to hold him down. His mouth fell just a little open when he realized what the light exactly was, and he smiled – not his usual deranged smile, but a fond, longing smile, of someone who had been waiting for a long lost lover to return.
“Pretty golden God,” he whispered.
-------------------------------
Kaiba bit on his bloodless, chafed lips and refrained from grunting. His fingers were clasped around the steering wheel, and he forcefully avoided looking at them. He had a vague idea about his bad condition, and he didn’t want to be confronted with his bony fingers. The leather of the steering wheel felt hot to the touch, but he had been through so many unpleasant situations that he couldn’t care less; a little heat was nothing compared to being starved to death. What little food he had managed to keep down was his only source of energy, as well as a few glasses of that carbonated drink Otogi had found, fueling his system with caffeine.
He knew that something else was also fueling him: anger, because of what Gozaburo and Noa had done to him, and a burning, passionate desire to see those two dead, or at least punished for their crimes. Gozaburo had ruined everything what the name and the person Kaiba stood for, and even though it wasn’t his ‘real’ family name, he felt attached to it and he felt the need to defend it against his adoptive father’s warmonger. Look at what Gozaburo had done to the world, to the population, to this city – Domino City should be filled with people, with traffic, with kids, with adults. The empty streets and their bad condition were signs enough that Gozaburo didn’t care for this world, he didn’t care for anything but his own goal to reach immortality. Kaiba snorted.
Otogi sat next to him in the passenger’s seat, with Mokuba in his lap. Mokuba was the one to apply pressure to the gas pedal, and would operate the brakes as soon as Kaiba nudged him. Otogi held his hand on Mokuba as he was in an awkward position, wedged between the dashboard and the shift stick; but at least he could reach the pedals. It was either Mokuba or Otogi, and the latter hadn’t felt anything for crawling between Kaiba’s skinny legs to put his hands on metal pads that were foreign to him anyway. He had never been in a position to learn how to drive, though he wasn’t surprised that Mokuba actually knew the basics. Otogi could have enjoyed the car ride, really – it was quite amazing to travel this fast, and the car itself was fascinating – if not so terrible much depended upon it. He glanced at the backseat for the umpteenth time, his ponytail smacking him in the face. Kaiba’s precious laptop and the bag with the Items and the rest of their provisions were strapped into the seat belts, but with the speed they were going at, Otogi didn’t trust them to stay where they were. The roads hadn’t been maintained for years, and he lost count of the numbers of bumps and potholes. His ass felt sore and bruised, and he didn’t want to think about what Kaiba was feeling; with his skinny body, he would feel each and every little obstacle.
“That we even managed to get this car,” he said for the fourth time. Mokuba turned his head around and beamed at him. The kid was having fun with this dangerous ride!
“Nii-sama can do anything!” He cheered, and pressed his hand further down on the gas pedal, speeding the car up some more. “It wasn’t as hard as you thought, right?”
It had been Kaiba’s brilliant idea to block all the elevators but the one they were using, rushing down to the garage that was unlocked due to the power fall-out. Otogi thought he was going to collapse and die from dragging Kaiba all over the place, but he had been able to muster enough strength to get everyone in the car, including the laptop and the bag with Items. Neither one of them had any idea of how much fuel was left in the tank; Kaiba had made the choice for the convertible without elaborating his choice, eliciting loud cheers from Mokuba because he wanted to feel ‘the wind blowing through his hair’. Well, the kid had his wish fulfilled, and was probably regretting his choice now that he was stuffed between the dashboard, his brother’s legs and the pedals.
“How much further is it?” Kaiba gritted through his teeth, and this was the first time Otogi could hear the pain he was suffering. Any moment now, Kaiba could collapse from sheer exhaustion, and Otogi didn’t need to be a nurse to see the bad situation he was in.
“Hold on,” he said. “We’re close now, we’ve almost reached the city.”
“You said that five minutes ago,” Kaiba sneered, but kept his eyes on the road. They had passed a few signs with ‘Domino City’ on it, but the actual distance had been unreadable. Otogi had difficulties with his orientation; he had never approached the city from this side. Which way was the quickest one to the Game Shop?
“Really, just really close,” Otogi said and tried to recognize any of the roads and buildings he saw. His grip on Mokuba shifted a little, and the kid slid almost entirely under the steering wheel.
“Heey! I don’t want to get stuck here with my head!”
“Watch it,” Kaiba barked and he tugged at the steering wheel. The car moved towards the left, hitting a bump in the road that send them flying off of their seats. If this had been anything but a convertible, they all would’ve hit their heads.
“I’m sorry, nii-sama,” Mokuba whined from down below.
“I wasn’t talking to you,” Kaiba grumbled but it was so low and soft that only Otogi could overhear it. He was sure it was only meant for him, and he winced from the bump. He glanced quickly at the backseat, noticing that the laptop and the bag with the Items were still there, much to his relief.
After another few minutes, he gave a sudden yell.
“All right! See that building over there, to your right? You have to take the next exit!”
Domino City High had been the municipal school, but it had been long deserted. Its principal building with a large tower was however a typical landmark; an easy recognizable landmark for everyone. The tower used to hold a clock, which had disappeared; Otogi took it that the clock had been used to announce classes and the start of the school day. Just like driving a car, Otogi had been deprived of going to school like a normal kid, and many others with him. It was another thing that Kaiba Gozaburo had destroyed for them.
Kaiba grumbled again but followed Otogi’s ‘order’, as he took the next exit and drove downhill, towards a large intersection.
“Let go of the gas, Mokuba,” he said. His hand grabbed the stick and he shifted into a lower gear at the same moment Mokuba took his hands away from the pedal. The engine howled and the car slowed down considerably. The roads in town were in even worse condition than the highway, and Otogi kept his eyes peeled for any obstacles – Kaiba was beyond exhaustion. They were running out of time, and they had come too far to crash at the very last second.
“Straight ahead,” Otogi said, adrenaline rushing through him. He had managed to escape the KaibaCorp. building, he was still alive, and he was soon to be reunited with his friends and the Resistance! Passing the intersection, they drove into the northeast direction for another few minutes, until Kaiba suddenly called out: “Hit the brakes, the brakes!”
The car came to an abrupt halt, and Otogi almost smacked into the dashboard. Annoyed, he wanted to yell at Kaiba for the sudden stop, but he refrained from commenting as he saw the large crater in front of them. Large parts of the road were just… melted away. Mokuba used the opportunity to climb back into Kaiba’s lap. He winced visibly from his younger brother’s weight, but didn’t protest.
“Good call,” Otogi muttered. He had misjudged the size of the crater, and from up close he could see there was no way they could drive past it. He could still see wisps of smoke rising up from it. He didn’t know what or who could have caused this… but it meant that they had to find an alternative route, and his mind was already going over the possibilities.
Kaiba pulled at the stick, shifting it into reverse. “Gently, very gently push the gas pedal,” he told his brother, his voice hoarse. Mokuba answered with a sincere “Yes, nii-sama!” and slid back into his previous position, ducking under the dashboard. Very slowly, the car backed up, enlarging the distance between them and the smoldering crater…
“Wait! Wait!” Otogi almost whacked Kaiba in the face.
“What?”
“Wait!” Otogi pushed at the car door in an attempt to open it. He muttered under his breath when he couldn’t get it to open fast enough and quickly, he hoisted himself out of the car. He swung his legs out of the car while he dumped Mokuba unceremoniously, eliciting another “Heeey! Watch the head!”.
“What the hell is he doing?” Kaiba leaned against the steering wheel, his chest heaving. He was so tired, and his body ached all over. His eyes followed Otogi nonetheless, and he didn’t understand why he was running straight for the crater, taking a turn to the right at the last moment, waving maniacally with his arms.
Mokuba got up again, an annoyed frown marring his face. He looked over the edge of the dashboard. “What’s going on? Where did Otogi go to?”
“I don’t know.” Kaiba shrugged and leaned into the steering wheel. Not very comfortable, but he could rest his chin on the wheel and close his eyes…so tired…
“Nii-sama, there! People! Over there!” Mokuba’s voice was loud, and he opened his eyes again. He looked into the direction Mokuba was pointing to, and despite everything, his lips turned into his characteristic smirk. We made it.
------------------------------
Running as fast as he could, past the immense crater, Otogi waved and yelled frantically. He had spotted people, and his hopes went up significantly; please, let it be members of the Resistance! Even if they weren’t, they would probably know where the members were, wouldn’t they? It had to be! He couldn’t make out if they were male or female; two people, huddled together, walking at a very slow pace - and he could see why, as the taller one was limping.
“Heeey! Heey!” He yelled, trying to get their attention. “Wait! Wait!”
His heart fluttered when they indeed halted. Hopefully they could tell him where Yuugi and Shizuka were!
“Have you seen…” He skidded to a halt when the smaller of the two turned around, revealing herself to be a woman, face smudged and dirty, her hands and arms showing abrasions, matted strands of her short chestnut hair plastered against her cheeks.
“Anzu..!”
“Otogi!” She yelled and she almost dropped the man she was half-carrying, half-dragging. Otogi recognized him immediately and was quite surprised to see the magician-General right here, but he moved towards Anzu to give her an awkward hug. She moved her free arm around him, grabbing at his shirt, and she laughed out loud, slightly hysterically.
“We were so worried about you! We thought… Gods, we thought that you were dead! After we didn’t hear from you for so long…”
“It’s all right,” Otogi said, hugging her close one more time before letting her go. His eyes darted automatically towards the magician-General, who was dressed in his rather formal robes. Strange that he wasn’t wearing his usual armor. To his surprise, he noticed the man’s leg all bandaged up, a hue of blood visible through the fabric.
“Otogi,” Mahaado said, “have you seen the Pharaoh? Please…”
He shook his head regretfully. “I managed to get out of the KaibaCorp. building, buy we haven’t seen anyone since.”
Anzu didn’t pick up on the ‘we’ and patted with her hand all over Otogi, the nurse in her at work.
“You’re suffering from malnutrition,” she said, frowning. It was a good thing she hadn’t seen Kaiba yet. “Who did this to you? You need extra vitamins, minerals and…”
“Anzu, please, not now,” Otogi said. “Come, we have to get back to the car.”
“Car? You arrived here by car?”
“I have the Kaiba brothers with me,” he said and she froze on the spot.
“What? What in the world, Otogi..?”
“No, not Noa,” he quickly said. “It’s too much to explain now, but we need to get back to the car. Only then we can find the Pharaoh. I fill you in as we go, all right?”
She trusted him unconditionally, but her face showed a deep, puzzled frown when she followed him. To speed up the process, Otogi took Mahaado’s other arm and swung it over his own shoulders, supporting the magician-General. It earned him a surprised, but genuine grateful look, and Otogi simply nodded in return. Frankly, Mahaado would hold them up for too long if they kept the previous slow pace up; furthermore, Otogi had seen the patch of blood on his leg increasing. Judging from all the fabric Anzu already used to bandage it, Mahaado wasn’t the only one in need of professional, medical assistance.
As they reached the crater and made their way past it, Otogi feared for one split-second that Kaiba had driven off. He couldn’t see the car until Anzu poked him in the ribs, squeezing past Mahaado to do so.
“Over there!”
Relieved, Otogi guided them towards the vehicle with the engine still running. Kaiba had parked the car next to a wall to get out of the hot sun, and he glared at Otogi when he saw who he had with him.
“You idiot, why do you bring a General with you?” Even with his voice raspy and hoarse, Kaiba sounded like a commander - almost as much as Gozaburo. Mahaado lifted up his head when he heard the voice, but his surprise wore quickly off.
“I expected you to not die anytime soon, Kaiba. Whatever they tried to get out of you, they never got it, did they?”
“No they didn’t,” Kaiba answered stiffly and Mahaado chuckled, dissolving into a groan when Anzu abandoned him, leaving it to Otogi to support him. She closed the distance between her and the car with three firm steps.
“What on Earth happened to the both of you?” She asked, voice shrill, staring aghast from Kaiba to Otogi and back again. “It’s a miracle you’re still breathing! You’re dehydrated, malnourished - no, you’re completely emaciated, and…”
“Save it,” Kaiba barked. “Get into the car if you all must tag along and hurry up about it!”
“I wish I had still my supplies with me,” Anzu said and continued poking Kaiba, suddenly taking his head into her hands and forcing him to open his mouth.
“What the hell are you doing, woman?” He managed to croak out before she pulled at his tongue.
“You’re in no condition to drive. Get into the backseat, I’ll drive.”
“You can drive?” Otogi asked dumfounded. Mahaado leaned heavily on him, trying to find an easy stance to get the weight off of his leg.
Anzu nodded. “My father taught it to me before he… well, he thought it would come in handy. He wanted me to be able to take care of myself as much as possible. He hated being dependant.”
“We need to find the Pharaoh, please,” Mahaado interrupted. Anzu tugged at the door and opened it, almost causing Mokuba to roll out. He showed her an apologetic smile, which she immediately returned, smiling widely.
“At least someone is completely safe and sound!”
Otogi avoided looking at her charred skin. Both her and Mahaado had been the victim of… something, maybe an explosion, even though the magician-General hadn’t suffered any burn wounds. Whatever had happened, it was horrible - but they didn’t have the time to stand still and think, they had to be on the move.
A short discussion spawned between Anzu and Kaiba about who was better fit to drive, which ended with a loud “You’re going to kill everyone because you’re dying behind the wheel” from Anzu, who by then unbuckled Kaiba and helped him out of the car, propping him on the backseat before he could even protest. Otogi had to suppress a snicker. It was the first time, and probably the only time, that he saw Kaiba Seto obey, and a woman to boot - he sat in the back of the car, eyes widened in shock that he had been bossed around. Mahaado came to sit next to him, with Mokuba wedged between them. The kid didn’t mind the magician-General’s presence, if he already paid attention to it. He latched onto his brother, and even tried to make him eat something from the provisions they had brought.
Otogi ignored Mokuba enthusiastic babble on the backseat and turned towards Anzu, who had buckled herself up and moved with her hand over the shift stick, her feet on the pedals.
“All right, let’s see… gas… brakes… yes, yes, I think I got it!” She stepped onto the gas pedal, the engine roaring with power. She grabbed the shift stick and looked at Otogi.
“I don’t know where Yuugi is,” she said, her eyes showing a brief glimpse of sadness before turning a little distant again. Compassion could get you killed on the streets, but Anzu would rather die than abandoning her friends. “I can take you to the place I last saw him.”
“That’s fine by me,” Otogi said and his breath hitched in his throat. A bright light washed over them, and Anzu cried out in surprise, lifting up her hands to shield her eyes. Mokuba tried to crawl into his brother’s lap, scared. Mahaado’s eyes widened, his mouth falling open in shock.
“Oh, this is bad, this should not be happening,” he moaned.
“What’s going on?” Otogi found himself oddly staring into the light; despite its intensity, it was easy on the eyes. Anzu moved her hands away, staring as well. The light was golden, almost warm, almost.. friendly, inviting.
“Drive,” Mahaado hissed. “In name of the Gods, drive!”
Anzu looked bewildered from Mahaado to Otogi, but her hands clasped the steering wheel and her foot pushed the gas pedal in. The car sped forward and they raced into the heart of the city.
-------------------------------
“Holy fuck… holy fuck.” Jounouchi stared at the giant bird-beast that had spread its wings over Domino City. He and Honda looked at the… creature, baffled, and finally he snapped his jaws shut.
“Another God,” Honda was quick to understand, “just as we thought we had managed to survive one..!”
“Oh man…”
“What do we do now? We need to find the others.”
“We were going after the Pharaoh, and so we’re going after him,” Jounouchi smacked Honda against the shoulder, but not too harshly. He wanted to find his friends as well, as fast as possible; he hated not knowing if they were injured or not from the previous blast. At this moment however, the Pharaoh was the biggest threat; if they didn’t stop him and his cursed Gods, people were going to die.
“What about Yuugi? Shizuka, Anzu…”
“They’re alive,” Jounouchi said. “They are! We go after the Pharaoh and we take him out. Without him, the God will disappear! Come on Honda, we can’t stay here any longer!”
He grabbed his friend at the arm, dragging him away. Honda looked over his shoulder and freed himself from Jounouchi’s grasp.
“What about them?” He nodded with his head, obviously torn between following Jounouchi and helping out Malik and Bakura. Jounouchi was speechless for a moment, trying to make the right decision. Malik rolled over the ground with his look-alike, both screaming and yelling in anger, even though some of the screams seemed more excited than anything else. He shuddered. From the vigor Malik was stabbing the other with, the man should have been dead ten times over by now, but he simply laughed, and screamed some more. He was the one moaning in pure delight. Jounouchi shuddered again.
Bakura on the other hand… Bakura was just staring creepily at the other Bakura. They weren’t even moving. There was barely any distance between them, and they just kept staring… until the Bakura in the black trench coat looked up at the sky to stare at the golden light and the summoned God, and the other Bakura lunged for him, knife in his hand. Jounouchi saw the attack and his body was on the verge of taking a sprint and jump between them, to break up the fight… but he restrained himself and turned around, just as both Bakura rolled over the ground, a surprised cry ringing in his ears.
“This isn’t our fight,” he said grimly. He didn’t know what Isis had told her brother and his friend. He had barely interacted with the woman at all, and large parts of the conversations about the Sennen Items and their effects had been wasted on him. He had caught wind of the ‘dark halves’ and that it was a job that could only be done by Malik and Bakura. “This is their fight, and if we don’t find the Pharaoh and keep him from doing what he’s doing, we’re all going to die.”
Honda pursed his lips. He knew Jounouchi was right, but he didn’t like running away from a fight, especially when he thought the fight was unfair. They didn’t know how strong those doppelgangers were, so how fair could this fight be? Malik and Bakura weren’t his intimate friends, but they were part of the Resistance as they had showed their willingness to help and take on these dark look-alikes, and that was enough for Honda
“Let’s go,” Jounouchi all but growled, feeling frustrated himself for exactly the same reasons. He started to jog, away from the fight, and didn’t look back, not even to check if Honda was following him.
“He can’t be far,” Honda caught up with him, keeping up with the pace. His eyes darted from the buildings to the ground, spying for rubble on the pavement so he wouldn’t trip.
“He must be close to the God,” Jounouchi agreed. The others couldn’t be very far either, or so he presumed. The blast had flung them all away, enough to disperse them, but not far enough to be completely out of reach. Gods, he hoped he was right. He would take more burn wounds from a blast if that meant he could get closer to his friends; and as long as he didn’t know if his sister was safe, dying wasn’t an option for him.
They went around a corner, slowing down as the street was filled with debris. Climbing over a particular large chunk of concrete, Honda slipped and fell. He tumbled on top of Jounouchi, both losing their balance and smacking to the ground.
“Smart move, asshole,” Jounouchi muttered as he touched his jaw, then stuck his finger into his mouth to cheek his teeth. To his relief, he didn’t encounter any blood, so nothing was broken, not even chipped. Honda dusted himself off as he got up, glaring at the offending concrete.
“It would be so much easier to walk through the streets if all that debris wasn’t there!”
Jounouchi got up as well and held his hand above his eyes. The light was much more intense here, but he could still easily look into it. It felt… warm and comfortable, like a blanket, even though the God-beast itself was nothing but menacing. How strange… there was no time to pursue this train of thoughts, and he resumed his earlier jog.
“We’ll search in squares,” he said, “from block to block, until we find the Pharaoh or the others.”
“We’re not that far off,” Honda answered, also noticing how the light grew more intense.
It took them only a few blocks to find someone – not the one they had been searching for in the first place, but the one most important to Jounouchi. Shizuka was standing close to a sturdy wall, a little huddled in the shadows, trying to make herself as invisible as possible.
“Shizuka!” He cried out, forgetting that there probably was a very good reason why she was hiding in the shadows.
“Onii-chan!” Shizuka lost the same precaution, straightening herself immediately and running in the direction of his voice. He opened his arms and embraced her, lifting her up from the ground.
“Shizuka, are you all right? Are you alone? Where’s Yuugi?”
“Onii-chan,” she said again and ruffled his hair. “My hand… my pinky finger. It hurts. Something scorched me, and it burns and itches…”
Honda and Jounouchi both looked at her hand and the makeshift bandages. “Anzu will have to take a look at it,” he said.
“You found Anzu-san?” The girl got all excited. Jounouchi wished he would have thought his words over instead of giving his sister false hope.
“She’ll probably be around here somewhere,” he answered sheepishly and berated himself mentally when he saw the disappointment on Shizuka’s face.
“Yuugi-kun is over there, he was going to check something out,” Shizuka lowered her voice. “I think that Pharaoh dude is close by…”
Honda snickered at hearing Shizuka use the same reference to the Pharaoh as her brother, which wasn’t all that surprising. The warmth and light was pretty intense here, even more than they felt previously.
“Over there, where?”
“He went to the north,” Shizuka pointed out. “He told me to stay here. We were only the two of us. I was waiting for him to return.”
“All right, stay here,” Jounouchi said. “We’re going to see if we can find Yuugi.”
Shizuka immediately latched onto him, her fingers clenching at his torn clothing. “No!”
“Shizuka, it’s far too dangerous,” Jounouchi tried to persuade her. “There’s another God, and…”
“Is that where the… heat is coming from?” She sounded confused. “It feels so calm and gentle, like a sun caressing your skin.”
Jounouchi and Honda exchanged quizzical looks. ‘Calm’ and ‘gentle’ wouldn’t be exactly the words they would use to describe the God, even though the warmth was comfortable. They were able to see the God, Shizuka wasn’t. Jounouchi took his sister by the hand and pulled her even closer.
“All right, you can come with us,” he said. If they were going to die, be it because of the God or anything else, they would be together, not separated. Honda looked like he understood. Jounouchi felt a wave of pity for him; Anzu’s whereabouts were still unknown, and he knew his friend’s thoughts were with his fiancée.
“Let’s go!”
-------------------------------
He sat upright, just staring at the bright light, an infatuated look on his face.
“Pretty golden God...” he repeated, dropping his hands in his lap. He had forgotten about Malik, about the fight, and everything and everyone around him, only the light and the God mattered to him.
Malik breathed heavily from the exertion. He was on the ground, skin chafed, clothing torn, pinned down by the other’s legs. He could barely move but twitch his torso a little, and he already knew that trying to push the other off of him was of no use. Marik was too strong to be simply thrown off. Malik stabbed his counterpart’s leg, but as Marik was completely entranced by the appearance of the God, he barely registered the pain. Malik touched his own throat, feeling the bruises form on his skin. This was no of use. He had apparently lost the fight even before they started; how was he supposed to battle his dark half anyway?
He tried to get his thoughts straight. There had to be a way he could use Marik’s distraction to his advantage. So much anger, so much hatred. Isis had died in vain; she had died when she had touched her Item. It made no sense. According to her, that Item that belonged to their family in the first place. She had been so evasive, refusing to answer all of his questions. Malik had loved his sister dearly, despite her being a General, despite her being on Gozaburo’s side. He had still loved her even after Rishid died in an attack from the Elite Troops. His brother… he could cry when he thought of Rishid who had been adopted into the family a long time ago. He had fought for freedom, for his own existence, for Isis to be safe and free from Gozaburo’s claws…
Sometimes Malik thought that Isis had killed Rishid, if only to keep him from getting too close to her, and trying to prevent her from doing what she had to do. Her visions had shown her that she was going to defect to the Resistance, hand them the Items, and then… die. Her body had simply disappeared, leaving him literally with nothing to hold. She had died in his arms, sharing her last moments with him. Why hadn’t she told him everything? Why had she only said that he could do this, he could make the darkness go away, without elaborating? The Item wasn’t even working on him! Malik had stabbed Marik numerous times; he should have been long dead by now! Only blood was flowing… blood.
Lifeline. Blood was the lifeline of one’s body. Blood was what Malik had tied to Isis, their family blood, Ishtar blood. Separated, diffused, created… this was different. The other part of his soul, who was bleeding but didn’t feel pain, and when he felt pain, he enjoyed it. Malik had never enjoyed pain. He knew why this other one had been created. Hatred and anger, sadness and pain.. but they weren’t brothers. They weren’t connected by family ties or blood. Malik opened his eyes, knowing that he was on the right track.
“Pretty golden God,” the other repeated and now that he was still distracted, Malik plunged the dagger into his right upper leg again and let go of it, leaving the Item embedded in the flesh. Marik’s body shook a little, shocked by the sudden movement, and he looked down, amused.
“You tried that before, pretty little thing,” he sing-songed. “It didn’t work. Beautiful little me, you’re so pathetic. I have to kill you. I’ll kill you with my hand on your pretty little neck and I’ll snap it. Yes, yes, that sounds perfect.”
“You can’t kill me,” Malik said. “Because you are a part of me. Killing me would mean killing yourself. But then again, you already are dead. You have never lived. You are a creation. You are from my mind.”
“You talk pretty shit,” Marik answered brusquely. He lowered his right hand to grab the Item. “I have never seen you before in my life.”
“I have seen you countless of times.” Malik all but smiled. “Pretty hatred, come back to me.”
Marik narrowed his eyes and yanked the Rod out of his leg, undisturbed by the blood flowing from the injury. He lifted it up, the dagger dripping with blood. With an inhuman growl, he lowered the Item, the dagger aiming for Malik’s head, right between the eyes – when he suddenly halted. His arm refuse to move, and the tip of the dagger was just an inch away from Malik’s skin. He didn’t dare to breathe, but there was no fear in his eyes.
“Pretty hatred, come back to me.”
“No.” Marik stared at his hand, clutching the Item, trying to move. “What… how? I can’t come back to you. I don’t belong to you…”
“You belong to someone else,” Malik answered, “but you don’t belong in this world. Your time is up, darkness of my soul. I accept you and your hatred as a part of me, to complete my soul again.”
The eye attached to the sphere of the Rod started to glow as if he had spoken a magic word. Marik stared at it, confused yet curious, until he suddenly got scared.
“Take it away from me,” he cried out, “take it away from me!”
Malik moved up his hand and took the Item simply out of Marik’s hand, the sphere still glowing. Marik was unable to move, but Malik could – he moved away from under him, relieved when he was standing up again, ignoring the pain he was feeling. He held the Item high, but reached with his other hand for Marik.
“Time to go.”
“Time to go?” His voice was child-like.
“Yes, time to go.”
Their hands touched, and the next moment he was gone. No body, no blood, no nothing… Malik didn’t know whether to be relieved or disappointed. He had expected something more grand, something earth-shattering perhaps, and not something… as silent as this. Staring at the Rod, the glow had worn off, and he didn’t feel any different than before. He still was angry, almost feeling an urge to kill, but he squashed that train of thoughts. Malik quickly looked around to see if he could find the end cap of the Rod; he had dropped it just before the fight had started.
----------------------------------
Bakura had expected at least some resistance. A feisty push or a pull, or a tug at his hair. Instead, he rolled over the ground with the other Bakura, a knife firmly stuck into his shoulder, his hand clasped around the handle. The other Bakura had gasped in surprise, but that was it. He tumbled over him and took the knife out again, immediately getting back up on his feet and shifting into a fighting stance.
He just… lied there. Lifeless for a moment, with the Ring half on his chest, half on his side – the prongs were heavy, slowly dragging the Item down to the ground, if it weren’t for Bakura finally moving. He brought up his hand and touched the place where he had been stabbed, dabbing his fingers through the blood. Baffled, he looked at the liquid on his fingertips, dripping over his skin. Real blood. He had really been stabbed. Almost in shock, he looked up at the standing Bakura.
“You stabbed me.”
Bakura looked down on his lying namesake with all the contempt he could muster. This weakling, this boy, was going to take his life? With all his talk about this ‘dark side’ of his soul, and unable to hurt each other? Look at him! He was just lying there, staring in disbelief at his fingers. He snorted.
“I do not know where you are coming from, but you are supposed to be dying.”
“I told you before, you cannot hurt me, and I cannot hurt you.”
“Prove it,” Bakura said.
“You just witnessed it yourself.”
“You are bleeding. Maybe you can survive one stab wound, but I have got lots more where that came from.”
The other Bakura threw him a sudden haughtily look and got back up on his feet, albeit slowly. His fingers hooked behind the Ring he was carrying, and he muttered something under his breath. Isis. Why hadn’t she told him everything? She had burdened him and Malik with the knowledge of these dark halves and the upcoming fight moments before she died; leaving them with the question of how to solve it. Bakura Ryou had never, ever thought in his life to be involved in this, a war, a Resistance – a fight with his supposedly dark half.
Truth be told, he had never heard of ‘Sennen Items’, a ‘dark half’ and everything about the Resistance before. He knew about Domino City as that was Kaiba Gozaburo’s seat of power. That his pendant, a gift from his father, turned out to be a Sennen Item, was a revelation brought to him by Malik Ishtar when they met. He had never asked to be involved in any of this, and he would have gladly given his pendant to Malik and let him deal with it – but he couldn’t.
Malik was the first and only friend that he had, and even though he didn’t like to admit it, Bakura had always searched for something in his life. Something or someone that was missing. It could be the other part of his soul; it could be someone to love or care about. He had never entertained the idea that his soul might be missing something, and when he saw the other Bakura, glaring at him, menacingly poised with the knife in his hand, he couldn’t imagine himself to be possibly missing that.
“You do not belong in this world,” he said. “You are a creation.”
“So what?” Bakura snorted. He shook with his hand, droplets of blood flying off the knife and spattering on the ground. He knew he was a creation – Gozaburo reminded him of that often enough. He didn’t know exactly how or why he was created; only that it had to do with something called ‘virtual reality’, something that the whole Kaiba family was obsessed with. Power was knowledge, but he had concentrated on the Items first. There was a deep-rooted, inexplicable longing for those Items in him, and he had thought that, after collecting all the Items, he could always learn about that ‘virtual reality’ himself. Who cared for Gozaburo, the world, virtual or not, when one had the Items?
He licked his lips. “Creations have their purposes.”
“There is only one thing redeeming you,” Bakura said and withdrew his fingers from the Ring. He had almost been caressing the thing. “Someone you care for. That will save you in the end… somehow.”
“I do not care,” he answered, and he calmly walked towards his namesake, adjusting the position of his wrist and drove the knife right into his ribs. It was impossible to deliver a more fatal wound than that; he must have reached the heart. Grinning, he pushed just a little further, the knife sinking into tissue and flesh until the entire blade disappeared.
Bakura looked at the knife protruding from his chest, the hand of the other Bakura still around it, and he put his hand over his namesake’s. “Your skin is soft,” he said, not perturbed at all by the deadly weapon sticking out of him. “Someone is caring for you too, right?”
He refused to get distracted. He knew the golden God had appeared, and that it was preparing itself for an attack as soon as the Pharaoh would give the word. Domino City would be reduced to ashes and the whole Resistance would be wiped out including these two. All that would remain were the Items, which he would collect himself. He wasn’t going to get distracted by the golden God or by the other Bakura who started to creep him out, him of all people. How could he remain so calm with a knife wedged into his heart, and make a comment on how about his skin felt?
With one brusque movement, he wanted to withdraw his hand, but discovered that he couldn’t. The other Bakura held onto his hand, a grip he should easily free himself from, but he couldn’t move. His body disobeyed him. He could only watch how the other gently caressed his hand and traipsed with his fingers over his fingers, and it weirded him out.
“Who- what are you?”
“I am the other half of your soul, you know that.” He smiled. “I am looking very much forward to share my soul with you again.”
“I do not know what you are talking about, but no one is going to share souls with…”
The prongs of the Ring chimed and suddenly pointed forwards, to him. They basked in a soft glow, but the sharp ends of the prongs intimidated him, made him feel… scared. Bakura had never felt scared before, uncomfortable at most. He was just a creation… created to survive everything and anything. He felt compelled to look to the right where Marik was supposed to be, and all he saw was Malik with the Sennen Rod; the dagger in one hand, the end cap in another. Malik was slowly approaching them, clearly doubting whether to help out or not, and in a last ditch effort, Bakura wanted to use another knife with his free hand, but the stabbing weapon fell out of his fingers before he could use it.
“You do not belong in this world. Time to go.”
“T-Time to go?” Bakura stammered, completely taken aback by the change in attitude in the other Bakura. He didn’t imagine the fingers caressing him one more time before he was pushed, still gently, and he took a step backwards, not understanding. The prongs were deadly quiet, the Ring not chiming, and fear gulfed through him. He had only time for one last look at the other Bakura as he was taken by the shadows, dissolving his body. He didn’t even scream.
Bakura fell on his knees, doubling over as he removed the knife from his chest, using the last of his strength to hurl it away. Malik stepped over it as he hurried towards his friend and quickly grabbed him by the upper arms, forcing him upright.
“Bakura! Look at me, Bakura.”
“When.. when is it my time to go?” he asked, voice etched with pain. Malik shook his head, but he understood him.
“Your time is a long, long way from here,” he answered. “Come, we have to get the Items to Yuugi. They have lost every meaning to us now.”
At least to him; he wanted to get rid of the dagger. Malik realized he still hadn’t screwed the end cap on and proceeded to do so, while Bakura slowly worked himself up again, balancing on the balls of his feet.
“What happened to them?”
“I don’t know.” Malik made sure he heard the fastening ‘click’ of the cap. “Isis didn’t know either. Some things are far beyond our comprehension. We wouldn’t be able to understand the nature and origin of their creation for the life of us. Accepting them for whatever they are and allowing them to share our soul again, cancelled their existence, I guess.”
“I do not want to know,” Bakura shivered. The Ring hung lifelessly against his chest, the prongs rattling again, shifting with every movement he made. “I do not want to know.”
“We will find out, and make Gozaburo pay if he has done something…”
“No. No more killing.”
“This wasn’t a kill.”
Bakura looked at him. “How can you be so calm about this? Look at you, you are injured… I am injured…”
“Because it wasn’t a kill,” Malik repeated. “We didn’t kill them, Bakura. If they are truly the other part of our souls, our dark half, our negative feelings, whatever they might have been, they have returned to us somehow, making us… whole again? We couldn’t inflict real pain to each other. That has to mean that we were one and the same.”
Despite everything, Bakura chuckled softly. “I have never heard you say such things before. Weren’t you the one who disliked everything reeking of psychology and deeper meanings?”
“Well, everything changes after meeting your dark half and… sort of absorbing him. Do you feel any different?”
“No. I just feel sad, because I still think I killed him.”
“Maybe we don’t belong to this world either.”
“Wh-what?”
“Isis was a General, these two were our dark halves. When they… disappeared, they didn’t leave a body. Maybe, because we are involved in all of this, we don’t belong to this world either?”
“Nonsense,” Bakura said and was taken aback by his own vehemence. “I will not believe that.”
“Then let’s find our purpose,” Malik said and sounded excited. “We deliver the Items to Yuugi and his Resistance and we get the hell away from here.”
“Away? With that light in the sky?”
“Do you want to stay here and look at it?”
Bakura thought for a moment and then shook his head. “I want to go with you.”
“We have done our part. We can go back to Egypt… or what’s left of it.”
“Egypt. My father is in Egypt.”
“My roots are there as well,” Malik encouraged him. “Come on, Bakura. We’re nomads anyway.”
This time the other nodded and his face was set in determination. “Very well. We will go back to Egypt.”
It didn’t feel like a goal, it didn’t even feel definitive. Some things were hard to understand, especially after what he witnessed, but Bakura knew one thing - that he would never feel really at home, not anywhere. That was a fate he shared with a lot of people in this war-torn world, but he had the choice to do something about it. He had chosen to help his friend with defeating crucial people, two… creations, entities, who were linked to the powerful General, the Pharaoh. Without them, he would probably be weakened, vulnerable. It didn’t make Bakura feel happy about what happened. However, some things were out of his hands, out of his reach, and he had only Malik. They would need each other badly, to deal with everything, as Malik still had a difficult time accepting Isis’death. The only thing he could do, was to stand by his friend and help him.
Bakura nodded to no one in particular and went after Malik who already walked down the road, the Rod tucked between the belt loops as usual. His own Ring bumped with every movement against his chest, just below the blood stains, but the prongs had stopped rattling, and no chime came from the Item.
------------------------------------------
It was… amazing. Disconcerting, yet amazing, how someone could summon – and maintain control over – such an impressive beast? Yuugi could feel the power oozing off of the creature, which simply hovered in the air, wings spread, its massive torso covered with gold, its head turned towards its master, beak slightly open. Yuugi’s knees felt wobbly, and he tried to get up again, but he was so overwhelmed by the display of power that he needed a full minute to collect his bearings. He could easily look straight into the bright light coming from the God, and he noticed that the previous spots swimming in his vision had disappeared.
The question was, why had Pharaoh summoned another God? The red dragon had disappeared after its attack. Why would he leave? Yuugi’s only thought was that the Pharaoh might feel in danger and had summoned another God to protect him.
“Please don’t,” he said out loud, but his voice was hoarse and drowned out by the intensity of the God who slightly moved its wings, causing a firm wind to sweep over the town’s plaza. It almost knocked him off of his feet, and Yuugi had to struggle to keep his balance. Ignoring the pain in his body, he moved towards the Pharaoh.
“Please don’t,” he repeated, louder this time, and to his surprise, the Pharaoh responded - but not exactly the way he had in mind. The man doubled over, falling onto his hands and knees. Yuugi was immediately filled with concern - the other was in pain, and Yuugi’s natural born feelings of compassion took over.
“Pharaoh,” he called for him, louder. “Pharaoh.”
He didn’t receive an answer and he took a bold step forward, immediately nailed to the spot when the God opened its beak further to let out a horrifying, screeching sound. Yuugi recalled how sensitive Osiris had been, launching an attack on its own when it felt its master had been threatened, and somehow he couldn’t believe he was going to survive an attack from this God.
“Pharaoh, please, I only want to speak with you.”
He was muttering something, an ancient language that Yuugi recognized from it sounds, but not exactly the words. It was almost as if he was praying - what was going on?
“Pharaoh, please.” How did one address a Pharaoh anyway?
“Your Highness,” he said. He didn’t dare to approach him even if he only wanted to help him.
The God lowered itself a little, hovering over its master, intensifying its golden light. The Pharaoh got back up on his feet and slowly turned around. If Yuugi had thought that they looked similar from the earlier glimpse he caught of him, he was certainly even more surprised to see how little they actually differed from each other. He was mesmerized by the Pharaoh’s eyes, shocked by the anger and hatred in those red, blood red irises. All the hatred, all the pain and sadness he could see, all the anger was concentrated in those two pools that seemed to consist of running blood, smoldering, smothering. He swallowed.
“You want to speak with me?” His voice was low, booming, and anger dripped from his words. “You, who took Mahaado away from me? Who took in a traitor, who thwarted our goals?”
“Isis-san wasn’t a traitor,” Yuugi protested.
“Silence! You do not talk back to me!”
Yuugi remained silent, offended. He didn’t need another look at the Pharaoh’s eyes to know that the anger and hatred were aimed at him. This man couldn’t be reasoned with, and he had been so naïve to think he could just walk up to him and have a conversation... when the Pharaoh remained silent as well, Yuugi frowned and looked up again, straight into man’s eyes. He was looking at him.
“Why do you resemble me so much?”
“I do not know,” Yuugi answered truthfully. “I wish to talk to you, Pharaoh. Would you please… ehh… call off your God?”
“I do not have to talk to you about anything,” the Pharaoh answered and he suddenly gasped, a look of utter pain flashing over his face.
“What’s the matter?”
“Marik… Bakura…” The Pharaoh’s voice was barely audible, but Yuugi could make out the names. The other gripped at his chest, his fingers clenching convulsively, and he seemed distracted for a moment, until the fierce hatred was back into his eyes.
“You told them to kill them,” he said. “You have killed them! You have taken them away from me!”
The golden God, still hovering in the air, responded fiercely by opening its beak in an indignant cry, screeching so loud it almost perforated his ear drums. It moved its wings, causing such a wind that Yuugi had difficulties standing upright once more.
“No! What are you talking about? Please, Pharaoh! Stop this! You must feel deep down, in your heart, that this is wrong. This is all wrong! This is not the way it’s supposed to be. Mahaado told me everything about you, how you were a fair and just ruler…”
“Mahaado,” the Pharaoh repeated.
“Gozaburo did so much wrong,” Yuugi continued. “He enslaved you and forced you to wear that armor of yours. He doesn’t have the best intentions for you, and he makes everyone around him suffer, including you.”
“Suffer,” the Pharaoh parroted, but then shook his head. “No. Gozaburo has always taken care of me. He gave me Marik and Bakura - and you took them away from me! Just as you took Mahaado from me!”
“Your friend is safe with us,” Yuugi said. At least, he hoped Mahaado was safe, as he hadn’t seen him since Osiris’ attack. “Please Pharaoh, we have to talk.”
Silence. Yuugi looked at the Pharaoh, showing nothing but faith and hope to the other, meeting his angry, heated gaze without a flinch. He was seriously thinking that he was getting through to the other, as the Pharaoh mellowed, if only a little, the scowl on his lips smoothing into a thin, almost disapproving line - but not in rejection. If he wasn’t so nervous, Yuugi probably would’ve smiled disarmingly; as it was, he extended his hand to reach for the Pharaoh. He saw the mistake he made a second too late.
“Winged Dragon of the Heavens,” the Pharaoh spoke, shying away from Yuugi, “atta-”
“My Pharaoh!” Mahaado’s voice rolled over the plaza, interrupting the Pharaoh. He was also too late - the God acknowledged the half-spoken command, and opened its beak.
Yuugi looked behind him, searching for Mahaado - but the only thing he saw was a car with several people in it, and Anzu behind the steering wheel. She firmly stepped on the brakes, the tires burning rubber as the vehicle came to a halt at the edge of the plaza. Mahaado tried to immediately climb out of the car, but was hindered by his robes and his injured leg.
Yuugi didn’t recognize the two sitting next to the magician-General; the tall one, with short cropped brown hair and closed eyes, seemed to be asleep. It was disturbing to see how skinny he was, his pale cheeks hollow and his jaw line sharp, the skin tight around the bone. A young kid was curled against his side, but he appeared to be healthy and well-fed. To his relief, he recognized the person sitting next to Anzu, and he yelled his name out loud.
“Otogi-kun! You’re alive!”
Otogi waved as he tried to get up himself. Anzu opened the door and slid out of her seat. Mahaado ran past the car, a little comical the way he was hopping with his leg – the bloodied bandages were hard to miss – to join the Pharaoh, who stared in disbelief at him. In the sky, hovering over the plaza, the God was preparing its attack, collecting an orb of energy as its beak was opened, the raw power crackling and jittering through the air.
“Yuugi! Are you all right?”
He turned around, as it wasn’t Anzu who had spoken. Yuugi was thrilled to see Jounouchi, Honda and Shizuka appearing from the other side. All his friends had made it, and from the looks of it, they had survived without sustaining severe injuries. He felt more relief and gratitude to be reunited with his friends again. There was, however, no time for a happy reunion. Everyone could see and feel the danger from the impending attack. Mahaado was close to the Pharaoh, and Yuugi had never seen the magician-General so agitated like this.
“My Pharaoh, you must call off the attack! Please listen to me!”
“They killed them,” he hissed, “they killed you!”
Mahaado didn’t hesitate and wasn’t scared to put both his hands on the Pharaoh’s shoulders. The shorter man seemed to be out of control, his red eyes blazing, and his lips drawn into a tight line, his face set in an intense hunger for destruction. Seeing his friend injured had put his rage and anger into overdrive. Mahaado felt his heart break; this wasn’t what he wanted, this wasn’t what he ever wanted to see.
“I am still alive, my Pharaoh,” he whispered. He wouldn’t personally mourn the passing of Marik and Bakura, but he saw how much it affected the one he cared for. “Call off the attack, please. It will do no one any good if… my Pharaoh, please. You are exhausted, overexerted. You need some rest. Please call off the attack and come with me.”
“You are dead! They took you away from me! Away from me, all alone! I do not even have you anymore! They have to suffer!”
“It is all right,” Mahaado said, forcefully ignoring the God building up its attack. The Pharaoh could still recall it, even at the last moment. If only he could reach him, could get through to him…
“Gozaburo lied to you,” the magician-General continued. “I have never been a prisoner. I was treated with respect, and I have learned a lot from the Resistance, things that you should learn too, my Pharaoh.” He hoped that by using ‘my’ instead of ‘Great’, the Pharaoh would look up at him and realize it was really Mahaado talking to him. He hoped that the personal touch would convince him to call off the attack. He was nonetheless afraid that it might already be too late… there was nothing personal he could see in those eyes, on the face, nothing like his Pharaoh and how he used to be.
“He has never lied to me before,” the Pharaoh answered mechanically. “The Dragon of Heavens will eradicate this Resistance, and bring you back to me, bring them back to me..!”
“Can you not see?” Mahaado begged. “My Pharaoh! Can you not see what he has done to you? How he has forced you to wear that armor that makes you feel bad, sluggish and unlike yourself? How he has called you back from Egypt to disturb your search for your Item?”
“Item?” Otogi parroted. They were grouped around Yuugi. Shizuka held herself upright between her brother and Otogi, holding their hands. She had gasped in horror when feeling his thin fingers, and stood closer to him than to Jounouchi; he let it slide for the moment. “Wait,” he cried out loud, “We have the Items right here.”
“What?”
Otogi let go of Shizuka’s hand reluctantly, and turned around to run back to the car. Honda followed him just in case, and the others looked at their retreating backs, confused.
“You have the Items?” Mahaado had overheard it and cast a quick glance at the golden God. It was still building up the necessary energy for the attack, and it wouldn’t take that much longer. If he didn’t persuade the Pharaoh into forfeiting the attack… the Pharaoh himself had his eyes on Otogi, but it wasn’t quite Gozaburo’s former assistant he was staring at. He lifted a hefty, bulky bag from the backseat of the car and put on the ground.
Otogi opened the bag and took out two bundles of clothing and quickly unwrapped them. He showed the contents by holding his hands up high, the golden Items reflecting the light from the God, shining brightly.
“The Scales,” Mahaado gasped, “The Ankh! My Pharaoh, those are the real Items!”
“Where is mine!” The Pharaoh bellowed, his eyes showing an intense greed.
“I do have one more,” Otogi said. He handed the two Items over to Honda, who looked in amazement at the strange, yet powerful mystical objects. Otogi searched through the bag and finally held up a small, golden box, triumphantly. It was heavy, so he used both hands. The box with the lid was probably the most precious object, the way it was crafted, carved with markings, a remnant of an ancient language. It had an outlandish beauty to it, even more so than the other Items. Truly, this was a real treasure.
“My Puzzle!” The Pharaoh roared and if it weren’t for Mahaado, he would have jumped right at Otogi. Yuugi only saw the box and he figured the puzzle pieces must be inside – or maybe the Pharaoh referred to the box as it being a Puzzle? Or the box was a puzzle itself?
“Where did you get those? Have you stolen them?” His tone was accusatory, and the God moved, guarding its masters back while it was building up its attack.
“We stole them from Gozaburo’s vault.” Otogi’s knees buckled, getting nervous from the close presence of the God. “They can vouch for it, because they helped me.” The nod of his head was meant for the two on the backseat of the car, who strangely enough kept themselves out of the situation. Yuugi stood on his tiptoes; remarkably, they seemed to be… asleep?
“Gozaburo had it all the time?”
The Pharaoh looked at Mahaado, as if searching for confirmation. The magician-General shook his head.
“I was not aware of this, my Pharaoh. Remember, I have searched for your Item, for all of our Items, valiantly and profoundly. All of us Generals have searched for them…”
The smaller man looked beyond angry now. “I do not believe this! He did not have any reason to keep my Puzzle away from me!”
“But he did, Pharaoh,” Yuugi suddenly spoke up. He swallowed when seeing the other’s mad and angry eyes on him again, but he wasn’t going to back out now. He showed his hand palms open, to indicate that he wasn’t hiding anything. “He knew that you wouldn’t obey him when you had your Puzzle. It is the most powerful Item of them all, and Gozaburo would be stark raving mad to put more power into the hands of someone who was already able to call forth Gods.”
“Call forth Gods,” the Pharaoh repeated, confusedly.
“He wanted to keep you close, right in the center of his power, to confirm his hold over you. As long as you were close, and wearing the armor he had constructed for you, he could remain in control forever!”
“But I like my armor,” he protested. Yuugi had to smile, he couldn’t help it.
“It does nothing for you, my Pharaoh,” Mahaado gently chided him. “It only serves to keep you under control, just like Mutou Yuugi said. You can trust him, as I trust him...as I trust you.”
“No wonder he called me back from Egypt,” the Pharaoh hissed, ignoring Mahaado’s words. “He said that he would have the others search for my Puzzle, and that he would bring it to me as soon as he had it!”
“He would never have lived up to his word,” Yuugi said. “All that we wanted, were the Items for…”
“Never,” the Pharaoh repeated. “He was lying to me all this time?”
“He wanted to keep you under his control,” Yuugi said. “He would never have given the Puzzle to you.”
“My Pharaoh,” Mahaado said again, “why are we still standing here? We should sit down and rest, and talk. We can bring this to a good end…”
The Pharaoh batted his arm away and growled like a caged animal. “Never!” He yelled out, his voice hysterical. “My Puzzle!”
Mahaado wanted to calm him down, but his words were drown out as the golden God moved its wings to lift itself up, ascending, causing another wind to sweep over the plaza. The creature had assembled more than enough energy, concentrated in a frightening orb of pure power pulsating in its beak, and it moved its head back to release it. In a last ditch effort, the magician-General latched himself onto the Pharaoh, as if he wanted to protect him. The attack launched, engulfing everyone in a bright, blinding light, enveloping them in a heat that should scorch the flesh of their bones, but amazingly didn’t. Yuugi didn’t know who screamed the loudest, and he didn’t care - he thought their lives were going to end at that very moment.
Chapter 8 | Chapter 10 |