Marik stood in the desert alone, at the site of the gate to the afterlife that had collapsed after Pharaoh Atemu had moved on.

The site where the Millennium Items were buried.

It was a few days after that final duel. In the time since then, Marik had felt…depressed. Really, his entire family's existence had been focused on that one final duel and the events that would lead up to it. Now it was over, and the Ishtar family was free to live as they pleased. It was what Marik had always wanted, but…somehow, he felt lost. Neither his purpose in attempting to rule the world, nor his family's purpose to serve the Pharaoh, existed anymore. All magic and significance was gone from the world. What was his purpose now? His sister had made a place for herself in the world as a very successful archaeological entrepreneur, and her earnings gave the whole family a fair amount of luxury even if he and Odion didn't take on careers of their own (lucky bitch), but what was the point?

Everything that had ever mattered to him was buried under more than a mile of rubble.

But it was still there.

Surely, the power of the Millennium Items hadn't faded with the Pharaoh's departure from this world - that had never been the source of their power in the first place. Even the souls of the people of Kuhl-Elna hadn't exactly been the source - they had been a sacrifice, creating enough death in one place for the Shadow Realm to bleed into the gold. And yes, Zorc had been defeated…but destroyed? Marik couldn't believe that. Surely, the Shadow Realm still existed, darkness still existed, evil still existed - Pharaoh Atemu had declared that darkness was nothing without light, but surely the converse was also true.

Something from under the piles and piles of rock called to him. He'd found himself here again and again every day, unsure what he was waiting for or looking for. Nothing changed from day to day. Nothing would change. It was a pile of rocks!

You could make things change, a dark voice in Marik's mind whispered then. He flinched, wondering if his evil alter ego had wormed its way back into his soul…but no, the voice hadn't been like that. And it spoke the truth. He had hands, arms, legs, muscles - he could move the rocks. It would take time, and effort, but what else was he doing with his life? Nothing.

Marik sighed, bent down under the hot Egyptian sun, and picked up a rock to carry away from the site. One chunk at a time, with his bare hands, he would dig. It would have to be his bare hands - he couldn't draw attention to what he was doing. His sister, especially, couldn't find out that he was chasing what he should have left behind.

~o~

Marik went out to that old site during his spare time every day for several years. Had he had anything else to do with his life, he would have given up, but this was the only purpose he'd managed to find; it was all he had. It became a routine, a reason for him to get up in the morning.

Every day, he would get up at dawn, eat a large breakfast to get his strength up, and leave. Once his long outings became routine, Ishizu always insisted on making him take water and a small lunch with him. She only once asked where he was going, and when he dodged the question, she let it go. He could see how worried about him she was, he wasn't blind, and he made sure to be home before sunset so she wouldn't be too distressed. It was nice to know she cared, to feel loved…It was almost like having a mother, not that he would know.

He dug single-mindedly, ignoring he enormousness of the Herculean task he'd set himself to and determinedly moving one piece of rubble after the other. He didn't allow himself much rest, though he was careful not to kill himself. Most days he slaved under the merciless heat of the Egyptian sun; on the rare days it rained, he was grateful for the reprieve, though the moistening of the sand became somewhat dangerous, but it was uncommon. As he worked, he built up muscle, eventually becoming much more muscular than he'd ever really wanted to be. It was a good thing, though, because as he made progress, the work got harder.

At first, it was simple - pick up rock, carry rock away, put rock down. But, as the rubble started to clear, other problems presented themselves. Marik had to carry rocks out of the pit of rocks, he had to climb without his hands to remove any piece of rubble, and it became as much a matter of rearranging rocks as removing them, making a stable makeshift staircase for him to carry the rocks up. Sometimes boulders needed to be broken before Marik could move them, which he had to do with as little use of tools as possible, since he couldn't be caught with them, so as not to arouse his siblings' suspicions - that was the most taxing part of the job. What was more, the rocks he carried out had to be scattered so that it wasn't immediately obvious that someone was digging everything up. No one could know, he knew that.

It was a long, long time before Marik finally reached a layer that felt like progress. After five years, the rubble he carried out started to be chunks of wall with hieroglyphics carved on them - as only the walls of the lowest chamber had been. Pieces of pillars even turned up here and there. Here was where the gate had stood; he knew the Millennium Items couldn't be much further.

And they weren't…relatively speaking. It was another six months before the day finally came when the few rays of sunlight that managed to reach down into Marik's mine caught on something gold, seizing Marik's attention as he climbed back down the stone stairs for the trillionth time, intending to grab another rock.

Marik's breath caught, his exhaustion banished, hardly daring to believe it. Had he really, after all this time, found them?

He carefully picked his way across the field of rubble to the glimmer that had caught his eye, trying not to make any of the rocks shift. It seemed to take an eternity for him to reach that gleaming, golden light…

At last, he was there. He reached out, carefully taking hold of the shining object, and tried to coax it gently out of its resting place - so far down, he had to be extra-cautious of destabilizing anything, lest he be crushed under an avalanche of boulders. The item slid smoothly out of the ground: An ankh, with a key's teeth at its end.

The Millennium Key.

Marik forced himself to breathe. He'd found them. He'd really found them! After digging for so long, and so carefully, the project had felt endless, like he would be doing it forever - but he'd found them!

Now, where were the others?

He tucked the Key into his pocket, and gently started picking around in the rocks where it had been. Of course, the Items might have scattered, but if nothing else, they were down here, they couldn't have gone much deeper. Of course, they might be buried beyond the edges of the hole he'd dug, which would be just his luck, but he had to hope…

There was no more need to carry rocks out now, so he stayed down there, the underground depths cool, untouched by the desert heat. It was oddly relaxing, compared to the back-breaking work he'd been doing for so long. Of course, the constant working out had made him very fit, so he tried not to complain. Wouldn't it be funny if I got out-of-shape now that I won't be doing this anymore? he thought. He started to chuckle, when another golden gleam cut through his thoughts. There, right under his hand, another golden object: A small sphere, marked with Eye of Wdjat.

The Millennium Eye. Another Item that Marik had no use for.

He tucked it into another pocket and resumed digging around, trying to contain his enthusiasm, lest he knock the wrong rock out of place and get himself killed. Two out of seven! The others were here, they had to be!

After another few long minutes of picking around, Marik thought he saw a gleam in a gap beneath a rock he was passing. He lifted the rock carefully, and was rewarded with a flash of gold. This one was bigger than the others, more unwieldy - Marik had to spend a couple of minutes loosening it from the ground.

The Millennium Scale. Possibly the most useless of the seven Millennium Items nowadays. It was still an Item, though, and Marik did some maneuvering to tuck it into his belt.

Marik nearly started digging around again, when he saw another gleam of gold at the bottom of the hole he'd just made by retrieving the Scale. Two in one place! What luck! Carefully, carefully, Marik eased it out of the earth. It was another small thing: The Millennium Necklace.

This one gave Marik pause. Ishizu had worn this Millennium Item. Holding it in his hand now inspired a lot of conflicting emotions. What would Ishizu say if she found out that he had dug this up? That part of history was supposed to be over, the Items meant to rest in peace, that was what she would say.

Marik hesitated, then clenched his fist around the golden amulet determinedly. What did she know? She had always been the good child, the one to simper and bow down to their father and their family's great duty to the Pharaoh. She had never controlled Marik, and she wouldn't now. He fastened the thin chain around his neck and kept looking.

None of the Items had responded to him so far, but the only one he'd ever really owned had been the Millennium Rod, and the Millennium Ring had housed his soul once, briefly. Those were the two he was most looking forward to finding. The Rod was his, and the Ring…well, he wasn't sure why he wanted to find that one so much, but whatever.

He dug around for a good five minutes after that, and was just about to give up and start picking at the walls when his foot accidentally knocked a rock out of place and revealed another gleam of gold. He forced himself not to lunge for it, to be careful…it would be so funny if this was the Millennium Puzzle, since he'd worked so hard to obtain it before, and now it was the only one left he wasn't interested in…

It was the Millennium Puzzle. Miraculously still intact, not one piece out of place, but it was still the second-most-useless Item, now that the Pharaoh's soul no longer lived in it. Marik sighed, took out one of the cords he'd brought just in case, and used it to hang the Puzzle around his neck. He'd fought so hard to wear it before, and now that he finally got to, it was useless.

He had to fight the urge to kick at the rubble-strewn ground in frustration. Five Items, with the only two missing being the ones he really wanted. It was as if the Items knew what he wanted and were deliberately ordering themselves so that all seven would return to the world.

Maybe they were.

But now, Marik couldn't leave. He'd found the other five, so now the next gleam of gold he saw would be one of the two he'd been searching for. It took every ounce of self-control he had to continue being careful and methodical in his search. It got to a point where he was picking up rocks he'd picked up and set aside before to get at the rocks underneath them that he hadn't touched. It was irritating, but he couldn't stop.

And then, at last, another gleam of gold. Marik dug it out with shaking hands, carefully removing it from its resting place.

The Millennium Ring.

Not the Rod, but still, an Item he had a sort of kinship with. What was more - as he recalled at just that very moment - the Ring could track other Millennium Items. Marik stood, placed the center of the Ring on his palm, and focused on connecting with the magic inside.

There it was, that unearthly power that only a chosen few got to wield. He didn't quite know how to use this one, but he tried to send an impression of seeking the other Items to it, and it responded. Four of the five dangling spikes pointed at him and the various Items he was carrying…and one pointed away from him.

Slowly, carefully, Marik made his way across the field of rubble in the direction the Ring indicated. The point slowly went from horizontal to vertical, pointing straight down at a specific patch of rocks. Marik took out another cord, used it to hang the Ring around his neck, then crouched down and started digging.

A minute or two later, there it was: The Millennium Rod. His Millennium Rod. The Item that could focus an individual's will through a lens of supernatural energy, exerting it upon the world.

Marik stood, gazing lovingly at the mystic scepter in his hands. It was cold so far underground, but the gold staff was warm in his grip. It was as though he had never lost it. It was ready, even eager, to do his bidding.

So…what was his bidding?

He'd found the Millennium Items. Now what was he going to do with them? He couldn't return home, couldn't let his sister see what he'd done…

He could sell them at a nearby bazaar, though. They were pure gold - apart from their magic - and very valuable, even as simple trinkets. Eye, Puzzle, Scale, Necklace, Key - those, he had to ditch now, as soon as he got out of this hole. The Ring and the Rod? He would…find a way to hide them. He could hide the Ring under his shirt, and the Rod…Well, he could just use it to make Ishizu and Odion think they didn't see what they were seeing! Oh, how quickly he'd forgotten just how many uses magic had!

He climbed out of the deep, deep pit he'd taken years to dig. On his way up, he was reminded, rather unpleasantly, that gold is a lot heaver than simple rocks - the Items were smaller than most of the rocks he'd dealt with, yes, but they were much heavier. He was panting and sweating heavily by the time he emerged into the evening light.

Evening? Where had the time gone?! He had never let himself stay out so late, his siblings would wonder where he was!

I have to hurry home! he thought, on the verge of panic. I can't raise suspicions-oh wait. I can just use the Millennium Rod to make Ishizu and Odion not care. He relaxed. Magic was so useful…

~o~

He pawned the five Items he had no use for off at prices the stallholders found impossibly cheap for such valuable objects - he couldn't bring back too much money without arousing suspicion, and he had to make sure anything he didn't want was gone as quickly as possible. In truth, he really didn't want to use magic on his family, though he really had no choice. The less he had to do, the better.

At last he got home, the Ring hidden under his shirt, the Rod tucked into his belt behind his back. Ishizu was waiting for him.

"Marik!" she exclaimed, running outside to meet him. "Where have you been? It's so late!"

Marik reached behind his back and placed a finger on the Millennium Rod, drawing on its magic - it was much more useful if it was pointed at whatever he wanted to exert control over, but he only needed a little bit of force right now to calm his sister down.

"I'm sorry," he told her, "I got a bit carried away riding my motorcycle and lost track of time." He forced a chuckle. "I always said I wanted to ride one far, far away - I got my wish tonight, it seems."

To his relief, she smiled. "Well, I'm glad you came home at all, then," she said, amused. "Come in, I saved some dinner for you."

Marik followed his sister inside. "Where's Odion?" he asked casually.

"Asleep," Ishizu replied over her shoulder. "I'd be in bed now myself, but I was worried about you…"

Marik smiled. "I'm fine, sister," he told her. "Thank you for worrying about me, but I'm fine."

"Good," Ishizu said, relief clear in her voice, "I'm glad. I didn't want to say anything, but you've seemed so troubled…It looks like a long ride on your motorcycle finally helped clear your head."

Marik nodded, grabbing the opportunity she'd laid out for him. "Yes, I…I've felt a bit restless since the Pharaoh passed on," he admitted. "But I think I know what I'm going to do now."

"Oh?" Ishizu asked, pausing by the door to the dining room to turn to him.

Marik wasn't sure where the next words out of his mouth came from. "I think I'll go to Domino City," he told his sister, "try to find something there. Being home is…well, it's hard to move on here. I think a city would be good for me."

Ishizu lit up. "That's probably a great idea," she said. "I'll get you a flight. When do you want to go?"

"Tomorrow?" Marik asked, a bit timidly. "I…I know it's abrupt, but I really need a change of scenery to clear my head…"

"Tomorrow is fine," Ishizu reassured him. "I'll put something together before I go to bed tonight. You eat dinner and get some sleep."

"Thank you, sister," Marik said with deep, heartfelt gratitude. "Good night."

"Good night." Ishizu gave her younger brother one last smile before walking elsewhere in the house. Marik carefully maneuvered into the dining room to eat dinner without baring his back to anywhere Ishizu might show up. Hiding the Rod from her had been easier than he'd dared hope, and he didn't want to ruin it.

~o~

Marik packed his bags in the dead of night, careful to hide the Ring and Rod between layers of clothes and whatnot. He would have to leave them in his checked luggage, as there was no way two huge gold objects could get through airport security without drawing attention. He wasn't taking a private jet like his sister used to, since he wasn't going to any particular important event, so he would have to commute. That was fine.

He slept restlessly that night, his dreams of darkness and shadows…and…a dark voice, calling to him from the void, telling him what to do…

When he woke up, he remembered nothing of what he had dreamed.

~o~

The trip was uneventful, the flight boring, and then Marik was back in Domino City with two Millennium Items in his suitcase. He wasn't entirely sure where he was going or what he was doing, but he got to the hotel room his sister had bought for him and took the Items out as he tried to plan his next move.

As soon as the Ring was around his neck, it started glowing. He hadn't called on its magic, but one prong shone, pointing in a seemingly random direction. That's weird, thought Marik. What on earth could it be sensing?

It was afternoon, he had severe jetlag, his body had no idea what time it was, and he wanted only to follow the Ring's direction. He tucked the Rod into his belt and left the hotel, choosing to walk the streets and alleys, going in the direction he was being pointed.

Some time passed, during which Marik got hopelessly lost and didn't even notice. There was something here, something he wanted - he hoped he would know it when he saw it. Then, suddenly, he saw something he recognized: A head of long white hair, a blue jacket, tan pants…and the ring was pointing straight at them.

"Bakura?!" Marik exclaimed before he could stop himself. No, it couldn't be, Bakura was gone…

The young man turned around, and Marik realized his mistake: This was Bakura Ryou, the innocent boy who had been merely the host to the evil spirit of the Millennium Ring, the villain Marik had once attempted to team up with. There was no doubt, however, that this was what the Ring had been pointing him to.

The boy blinked his brown eyes. "Do I know you from somewhere?" he asked in a soft, friendly voice. "You look familiar…"

Marik took off the Ring, which had been under his shirt until then, and held it out to the boy. "I think this is yours," he said.

Bakura Ryou's eyes widened. "Th-The Millennium Ring?!" he exclaimed. "I thought that was gone forever! Where did you find it?" He reached out and took it - not because he wanted it, it seemed, but rather to look for some sign that this wasn't the Millennium Ring.

Marik felt the magic in the Rod surge, reacting to something. "I found it buried in the ruins of an ancient tomb," he told the boy, taking out the Rod and pointing it at him. He added the Rod's magic to his voice as he said, "It's yours. Put it on."

Bakura Ryou's eyes went blank, and he obediently slipped the cord around his neck. The Ring shone, and the Rod responded. Marik recognized the feel of the magic now - it was true shadow magic, the kind that meant communion with the Shadow Realm. He gave the strength of his will over to the magic, unsure what he was calling on but more than happy to let it happen.

Bakura Ryou's soul slipped from his body, Marik could just see it go…and then, as the ring shone, something about the boy's body changed. The face became less boyish, the eyes less friendly, the hair a bit less tame. But it wasn't until Bakura gave an evil laugh - a laugh that Marik would very quickly grow tired of, in time - that Marik realized exactly what he had done.

"Thank you, mortal," Bakura sneered at Marik. "You've been most helpful."

Marik's hand dropped, his eyes wide, his fingers barely maintaining their grip on the Millennium Rod. "Are…you…?" He wasn't entirely sure what to ask.

Bakura crossed his arms and smirked, and Marik had a strange sense of deja vu - they had first met facing off in a back alley, and here they were again.

"Are you…Zorc?" Marik managed at last. "Or are you that thief, Bakura?"

Bakura laughed wickedly again. "What makes you think there was ever a difference?" he asked mockingly.

Marik blinked.

"I am both," Bakura told him, "always have been. Some of one, some of the other…Zorc lives in me, and I am he, though I am also not."

Marik shook his head. "So it's true," he said in wonder. "You are still alive. I knew you couldn't really be gone…"

Bakura spread his arms. "I am no less a part of the world than the light," he said. "So long as there is light, there will always be shadows."

Marik nodded. "I thought so," he said.

Bakura smirked. "So tell me, Marik," he said, "having now sampled both, which side do you choose to stand on - light, or dark?"

Marik thought. He had gladly banished his evil alter ego to the Shadow Realm and embraced the light…but was he happy being good? He thought about it for a good few minutes. No, he decided, no he wasn't.

And at last, he smiled. "I stand with the darkness," he told the evil spirit.

Bakura smirked again and extended a pale hand. "Well then," he said, "shall we?"

Still smiling, Marik moved the Rod to his other hand so he could take Bakura's. As he reached out, however, he hesitated again, his smile dropping. He thought of his sister, who had had risked herself repeatedly to try to talk him out of the dark path he'd chosen, who had taken care of him the past few years when he would have neglected to take care of himself, who had gotten him a plane flight and a hotel room on a moment's notice in the middle of the night. He thought of Odion, who had begged to take on Marik's fate even though he wasn't family by blood, who had carved markings into his own face to prove his loyalty, who had stood by him through thick and thin and kept his darker self from taking over completely. His family…If he went with Bakura now, he would never see them again - or, if he ever did, they would be on opposing sides. He would have to flee, go underground, possibly literally; a life of evil was not a thing to be chosen lightly.

Bakura's dark eyes glared at him mockingly, almost daring him to refuse. His intention was clear: This was it. Whatever Marik chose, from this moment on, there would be no turning back.

Marik took a deep breath to steady himself…and grasped Bakura's hand. "Yes."