This fic was basically written so I could put my mind at ease. Because apparently after battle city, Malik, Rishid, and Isis go back to fucking Egypt to wait until the Pharaoh is ready to move on to the after life. I'm sorry, but no. I have no idea why they would go back. It just seems stupid. Does this mean that the moral to Battle City is to learn your place and don't dream of the outside world and take the years of parental abuse from your father because the Pharaoh is more important than you so you should just live in a tomb for your whole life or you'll become evil and get a split-personality and you will go to the shadow realm for a while before your other half gets defeated and you should have just known your place as a lowly tomb-keeper to begin with? Phew. Yeah, I'm not buying that.

Isis point of view. Isis is awesome. Needs to be more fics with her in it. Don't own yu-gi-oh.

Isis was feeling quite...liberated. She didn't know where these feelings started originating from, but they were there now, replacing the quiet insecurities that used to rest just behind her eyes. Even with the Tauk, she always had the memories of the past waiting for her at the end of the day. Now she felt...secure. Maybe it was because she didn't have to fight anymore. The battle had been won. Her brother had been saved and the Pharaoh had collected another badge of victory to glue to his sash.

Isis didn't even think of Egypt anymore. She had no desire to go back. Rishid, Malik, and she had settled in Domino, leaving the tomb that had been the setting for such a distasteful childhood behind. Isis didn't care that she was rejecting thousands of years of tradition, by uprooting her family and leaving. That place could collapse on itself for all she cared.

Isis was working at the museum full-time now. Rishid was going to college to earn a degree. He really wanted to become a doctor. Malik was even going to school. He was succeeding at an adequate level, too. Of course, he had to work a bit harder than most to get the same results, but when Isis saw the B's and C's her brother was bringing home, she smiled.

Sometimes, Isis would still worry about her Brother, though. Late at night, she could hear him scream in his sleep, tossing and turning, muttering nonsense.

Isis hated to worry. She had spent her whole life worrying. She had watched both her adopted and biological brother go through hell as children. What had she done? She worried about them. She should have acted sooner in life, when she saw that thing that had festered inside her brother for the first time, but she was too busy worrying. She wasn't going to worry anymore.

Isis made plans to hug her brothers more. She decided what had happened once to her family wasn't going to happen again. She talked to Rishid and Malik that morning. The discussion had ended with happy tears and lots of hugging. Isis decided that she really enjoyed giving and receiving hugs. She could only remember a couple of times when she had been hugged as a child.

Isis felt good about herself. She felt...excited.

Isis was getting dressed. She had bought these clothes with her money. She never thought she would ever, in a million years, wear clothes like this. Clothes like mini-skirts, halter tops, and high heels weren't her thing. She put them on anyway. Isis felt...sexy.

Isis was walking down a street. From the directions her co-worker had given to her, she had estimated that she was about half-way there. It was a warm, breezy night. That's why she decided to walk. Her car's brakes screeched when she pushed on them anyway. Tonight she didn't need brakes.

Isis was dancing and she was having the time of her life. She laughed and conversed with people she had never met before. She felt...beautiful. She felt...alive.

Isis was out of breath. She rushed from the dance floor to sit down at the bar. A guy told her she looked pretty and then bought her a drink. Isis blushed. The man asked for her phone number. Isis gave it to him while giggling. The man left with her phone number, but before he left he winked at her. Isis couldn't remember the last time she had smiled so much.

Isis was dancing again and she felt...free.