It was over. Finally.

There would be no more Shadows coming to nip at their heels, ready to rip apart their souls hungrily at the command of whomever was greedy and stupid enough to call upon them.

There would be no more lunatics trying - and most of the time, so very close to succeeding in that trying- to take over the world.

There would be no more lives being laid on the line over something that was, in the end, really just a game. Even if it was one that was older than several civilizations put together, and had the power to dominate everyone's lives, with barely a thought.

There would be no more running around half-way across the world to see if an as-of-then unheard of spell, or legend, or old relic would save the day in a mysterious way, or kill them all when they least suspected it.

There would be no more finding an artifact in the back of a forgotten room and spending eight very short long years solving it, only to release something more akin to a curse with a precious few moments of actual peace that he never once thought of as more trouble than it was worth.

There would be no more making new friends and twice-over that of enemies (despite the fact that they, too, became friends), merely because two people were in the right place at the right time, and probably saved your life at that place and time, as well.

There would be no more dueling with murderous intents, with obsessed maniacs with a penchant for vengeance making casual bets on your life or your soul, much less those of the few friends you've made that actually care about you.

There would be no more staring at the deck that was a mixture of an old dueling legend and piecemeal cards cobbled together on short notice and more than his fair share of luck, hoping that the next day would not be his last, and if it was, where was that scrap of paper that posed as his will the last time he ever took death this seriously?

There would be no more mou hitori no boku, no more wondering if the news that night on the television was caused by his yami, the dark part of himself, or if his old enemies - could they really be called that, when he had faced so much more? - had simply gone insane for no apparent reason at all, really.

There would be no more looking over his shoulder to see if they were still being followed, if that alley they had ducked into would suffice as a haven until yet another danger had passed.

There would be no more advice and sneaky thoughts coming from that special corner in his soul, the one that was completely unfamiliar with these people and this world but learning quickly - after all, what more was life than a game?

There would be no more soul rooms that could kill you and nobody would ever know; if you suddenly dropped dead because in your mind you fell into a bottomless pit or were actually eaten by a monster, with not even a breath to spare to scream for help that's how much of a labyrinth it was.

There would be no more best friend, the one that he kept close to his heart; indeed, the closest that he would ever allow anyone for the rest of his life. All because that closest best friend, the other half of his soul, was in actuality was long dead and gone and meeting them should have never happened in the first place.

It was all over, finally, because a duty needed to be done posthaste - and personal feelings had no place in the line of duty. Because death would take whom he pleased, always. Cheating death was against the rules. And he always played fair.

So it was no surprise, really, when that hoarse scream of grief and loss hurriedly climbed out of his throat, when he crumpled to his feet and beat the ground - once, only once - when the enormity of everything crashed down around his shoulders and he felt the silence of another chapter in his life crashing around him.