"Someday I will win," I whisper into his ear. He nods and grins. I never thought it was so easy to satisfy Malik Isthar, but then again, he's pretty much the same as the 'real' Malik Ishtar - the one who agreed to work together with me back during the Battle City Tournament. That's all over now, and this Malik, or Marik as I call him, just to avoid confusion, ended up in the Shadow Realm, as he lost to our goody-two-shoes Pharaoh.
"I hate him," Marik says. Now I'm the one to nod. It's the intro to another litany about anger and pain and hatred and I gave up listening a long time ago. I do like the sound of his voice though, calm and low, until he really gets into his anger and he increases his volume. I don't mind. Someday, his voice will stop, someday he'll stop existing, and someday I won't be around either - but not before I have witnessed the Pharaoh fail and crumble at my feet.
"I know," I say and I suddenly realized that he has stopped talking. "What's the matter?"
"What if you won't win?"
"Preposterous," I protest. "I've been crafting the ultimate Dark RPG for ages! Nothing can go wrong!"
I look at him. Is he mocking me? Is he trying to push my buttons? I don't know. I don't know him that well. I only know him as an adversary, and then I lost my Ring to him, and the thought that he has worn it around his neck for a while... it makes me sick. But not sick enough to sever all contact. Not sick enough to stop looking for him in the Shadow Realm, where I feel at home.
"He has all three Gods."
"Of course he has them," I say, and I don't recognize the relief going through me. I don't need Marik's approval of my plans, do I? "I foresaw that. In fact, I took it into account. He needs the Gods to present their cards to the Ceremonial Tablet, otherwise I can't put my RPG in motion."
It suddenly dawns to me. Of course, he has forgotten. He forgets everything, he says so himself.
"He has his friends."
"They won't be able to follow him where he's going," I snort. Yuugi and his precious friends are not a part of my upcoming game. And even if they should find a way in, I have my own way of dealing with them. I've had so much time to plan it all, mapping out every possibility; setbacks and victories. "No, this time the Pharaoh is traveling alone."
"Alone," Marik repeats, looking happy. He doesn't care for anyone in particular, he forgets and he loves being alone in the darkness. The Shadow Realm is a perfect place for him; a place of nothingness, an empty void, a lifeless being. "Does he end up here when he dies?"
That's a question I need to ponder. I'm not entirely sure what I'm going to do with him once my victory has been secured. Someday. Do I enslave him? Keep him as some kind of pet? Humiliate him? What would it be like to have a Pharaoh as your personal servant? Degrading, oh yes, I would degrade him, take his precious pride away, and parade him in front of his friends as my slave, and he gets to watch while I kill them, rendering him into nothing but a crying, weak, defeated, pathetic human.
"Would you like me to send him to you?" I sound almost gleefully. Sure, why not - if Marik wants to play with my pet, who am I to deny him this small pleasure? Just the thought of the Pharaoh being on the losing end for once makes me so happy that I don't even mind sharing. But then, a small voice in the back of my mind tells me that this is still Marik. The one who didn't hesitate to sacrifice his own 'light' half, the one who created him in the first place? He would break and destroy my perfect small pet, rendering him useless to me. I can't let that happen, but it's too late to retract my words.
"That would be wonderful," he answers, a familiar glint in his eye. It makes me feel slightly nervous. Why have I come here? Why did I bother finding him in the shadows? Because I was in need of reassurance? Because I know that someday might not be for a long time to come? Just look at him, how satisfied he is with the promise I just made, and how enthralled he is at the simple thought of having the Pharaoh handed over to him, so he can play with him to the point of no return. I want to unleash my anger, I want to attack him - but I know this is the Shadow Realm, and physical attacks don't work here. I should retreat and calm myself down, and continue with my preparations.
"One day," I say, not liking the insecure sound of my own voice. Marik doesn't pick up on the tone, or doesn't care; he looks at me while he licks his lips.
"Someday," he says, "I won't forget, Bakura."