AN: Welcome to my first Yu-Gi-Oh fic for your reading pleasure! This began with the intention of being a one-shot. But one chapter would've ended up being waaaaay too long (it's already too long) so I split it into two. Second one will come soon. I want to get this and another story up before August when I start college and my life gets eaten by school again.

So basically, there are things that happen in the series that are often crazy and unexplained, and we usually just pass it off as being some strange Egyptian magic thingy. Well, I figured I'd try to explain some of those things by going through what maybe happen when Yami was in the box for 3,000 years (I've heard 5,000 and 3,000 so for the purpose of this story it gets to be 3,000).

I'll let you read up. Please note that Yami has no name (obviously) for the first part, so he is simply called 'he'. He becomes Yami later.

And it's supposed to be choppy sounding, just to sort of add to the effect of the whole story. AP English is a bitch, and it makes you think in weird ways when you're writing…

Alrighty, enjoy!

Disclaimer: Every time a fangirl has to admit she doesn't own the series, a puppy dies.

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Lost in the darkness,
Silence surrounds you.
Once there was morning,
Now endless night.

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It was dark. It hung about his body like a stifling blanket of smog, clearly visible and entirely tangible yet blinding and all at once void of existence. But that wasn't entirely true…if he moved, it seemed to move with him, clinging to his skin and crushing into him like water. For all he knew, that's exactly what it was: the deepest, darkest, loneliest part of the farthest sea.

Lonely…It didn't take long for him to pick up on that little aspect of his new existence. It was silent to the level of being deafening, and empty to the point of being completely smothering. And he felt no other presence in the void around him.

"Where am I…?"

The words came out, he thought. He felt his mouth form the syllables, felt his throat utter the noise, and felt his tongue sit heavy behind his teeth as if he had never used it before yet knew he knew what he had to do with it.

He took a step forward. It seemed to hold him back, yet push him forward with a propelling shove that sent him gliding rather than walking through the heavy sludge around him. He moved his arm in front of him, noting briefly that it was completely visible to him, even in this oppressing darkness. It left what felt like a wake behind it, stirring the nothing into a frenzy.

He quickly picked up another fact: this place was one giant oxymoron.

So how exactly did he get here? What was here? And if he was here, what did that make him?

"Who...What am I? Why is this…what is going on?"

He felt something strange then. It was a sense of authority, like he needed to know here and now what in the hell was going on or heads were going to roll. But he also knew that with no one else around, it was an entirely wasted emotion. It was so strange, yet entirely familiar…

Suddenly, the darkness was shifting, moving to form new things. He felt the oppression lift. Slightly. It was a constant reminder of his state of being, but it did allow for some freedom of sorts. What a nice oppressive darkness.

Gosh, how long had he been like this? It felt like forever, even though he suspected it may have only been a few minutes. Who knew how time passed in a void?

He still felt odd, like parts of him were scattered, like he was in the same place but not connected, and like parts of him were flat out missing. But at least there was a change in scenery coming.

Four walls. He saw—rather, felt—four walls. And a floor, and a ceiling. It was dark, yes, but it was a place just as tangible as the previous darkness without holding the same air of mystery.

Within the walls he could feel himself drifting between crevices and down little passages, like pieces of a puzzle thrown haphazardly into one place. He slid through them easily though, feeling the pieces of himself become one with these groves.

Then he noticed it, the thing that had brought him out of the darkness in the first place. It was someone's ka. He knew it had to be. There was an aura approaching. He was excited; could this approaching aura explain things to him, like who or what he was and what was going on with him? Maybe it could help! He could at least talk to it.

He left himself drift. He wasn't in the box of mazes anymore. This room was larger, just as dark and much danker. The walls were covered in depictions of battle scenes and messages. The ceiling was high, and the floor…well, it dropped off at some point. There was a bridge, and he was floating along a platform, but the remainder of the room was a large pitfall. It seemed odd, certainly, but his current focus was heavily centered upon the approaching force. It was only a few walls away…

Suddenly a door slid open across the room. A man stepped in, bathing the room in the light of a fiery torch. He was tanned, and an open-faced coat was draped over a half-naked body. His head was wrapped loosely with a turban, stained from dirt and sand and sweat. Words he muttered came out in a tongue so familiar, yet distant. Something in his mind said 'Egyptian. Your native tongue.' But he decided to ignore the voice…for now.

There was excitement racing a million circles round his mind. Here was life! He was about to connect with a life form! It was amazing, to say the least. There were so many things he wanted to ask, and so many things he knew the person might want to share.

The man began walking forward, muttering sweet nothings to himself and holding his torch high. From his place across the room next to the small gold box that he emerged from, he could easily watch the man. He was too busy being fascinated and excited to pick up on anything not quite right about the situation.

The man was finally across the narrow bridge of stone. The man, with dark circles around his sunken and bloodshot eyes, was only a few feet away from him.

"Hello, sir! I am so glad to see you!"

The man looked at the box. The expression on his face flickered with the torch light.

"Hello? Can you hear me?"

The man reached out and stroked the lid of the golden object before him.

He was confused. Could the man not see him? What was going on?

"Hello? Hello! Please, speak to me!"

He started to panic. The man was not looking his way, nor did the man ever let on that he was speaking. This could mean a few things, and hardly any of them seemed rational at that moment. The first thought to pass his mind was 'Do I even exist?' That was enough to chill his blood, if he had any to be chilled.

But that was quickly replaced by another emotion. His senses detected something…not dark, but foreboding. Something sinister, malicious, and quite possibly evil. It smacked him in the face, one desire he managed to pick up on: 'Steal the treasure.'

Forget the fact that he didn't even know what the treasure was, or what its purpose was. Although, he was about to find out. The first part of that question, at least.

Everything stopped in the crucial moment that followed. The man lifted the box. The man tucked the box beneath his sweaty armpit. The man was leaving with the box.

A few things passed through his now completely clear mind.

One: This man's eyes looked hungry. Greedy.

Two: This man's intentions are clear. This man is evil. This man is trying to steal this thing which is not his to take.

Three: This man must be stopped at once.

Four: …Shit.

"Stop!" He shouted. He voice didn't even echo. It just went on, not stopping for the man's ears. "Stop, please, stop!" He was desperate. The box could not leave the room. Not yet. He didn't have a clue as to why this nagged at him. But it did, and he would abide by that: there was nothing else right now to turn to.

"Please, sir! You have to stop! That's not yours to take!" He didn't know why he was pleading with the thief. The man would probably not have complied even if his voice could be heard.

He ran around the man, stopping in the middle of the stone bridge and turning. He was shaking. He was frantic.

"You can't take that! Put it back!"

The thief was smirking, obviously pleased with himself. The thief's eyes sparkled with the hunger for satisfying greed. And as the thief walked, the thief passed straight through him without even blinking.

He spun around, eyes wide with fear and breath coming out in short but quick rasps. He was lost. He was about to fail. And he didn't even know what he was failing at. He gave one last attempt, letting out a scream so wretched it was almost inhuman.

"STOOOOOOP!!"

The room shook then. The bridge began to groan. The man stood, looking around franticly. He wasn't sure if he should be afraid or relieved that the man stopped.

Just then something began to rise up from a slab of the bridge. He hadn't noticed before: the bridge was made up of sections fashioned into carvings of creatures. And one of those carvings was taking form before his eyes. And evidently the eyes of the thief as well, who began shrieking.

The creature was a ball of fuzz about the size of a well raised melon, and its eyes were the size of a fist. But it had teeth: sharp teeth, and a snarl that could make babies cry.

He stood by dumbly watching as the man dropped the box. It clattered as it made contact with the stone, but did not open and did not roll off the edge. It just sat there, watching with its large carved eye.

The small ball of fluff bit and gnawed at the thief. It latched onto the thief's leg, but the man kicked it off. The thief leaped around it and tried to make for the door. The man was stopped, however, by a new creature.

It towered high over the man, wearing deep purple robes and the pointed hat of one who may have practiced magic, wielding a staff of bronze about as tall as itself. It stood before the door with a glare so impassive but intense that it could freeze water and crumble stone.

"You will answer for your foul deeds, criminal." It spoke with conviction. The thief was frozen with fear.

The creature held out its hand, palm stretched out to be level with the thief's face. And with a cry of "Dark Magic!" the thief was gone. Well, physically gone. He stood before the magician-esque creature as afraid as before. But this time when he turned, he paled.

The thief's eyes locked with his own. The thief gasped. He remained emotionless. He was still shaking, his hands curled into tight fists, but his fear had transformed. It was now anger, deep flowing like the flooded Nile. Revenge, justice, punishment. That was all he cared about.

"You have the nerve to come into this place and defile sacred property?" He had no clue if it was indeed a sacred box, but it sounded appropriate and he was working on a whim. "May you suffer eternally."

Just then something stirred in the darkness below. It was neither alive nor dead, rather like the darkness itself was coming up from the depths. The thief blanched. The thief tried to run, but the two creatures stood in the way of the exit. The darkness reared above them all like a silent stalker.

He, though, stood calm as stone. All attention rested on him, as if his word would decide the ultimate fate of the whimpering thief's soul.

He chose the word.

"Perish."

The darkness crashed down with the force of an angry God's wrath. There was a ear-splitting roar, a blood-curdling scream, and a quick moment of nothing but darkness. Then it all melted away. The torch left by the man sat by the exit where the magician had eliminated the body. He looked at the creatures. The box still merely observed.

"You can speak?"

"I can, my pharaoh," replied the magician. The fur ball, now calm, wafted over to him and began caressing his head and cooing.

"What is this?"

"That is called Kuriboh."

As if responding to its name, Kuriboh let out a high "Kurriii!" and began to bounce around.

"Can you answer my questions?"

"I can do my best, my pharaoh."

His wall of diplomatic reserve crumbled. He had the feeling it wouldn't matter anyway. "What in the hell is going on? Who the hell am I? What the hell am I? Where the hell am I? What the hell are YOU?"

"All valid questions, my pharaoh, but I cannot answer all directly as you may wish." The magician floated to the place where Kuriboh and he already stood. It watched the box as it spoke.

"You exist because of this box. Inside are the pieces of a sacred relic called the Millennium Puzzle. Some of your ka, your sorcerer knowledge and abilities, is sealed in these pieces."

"Wait, some of my ka?"

"Yes. The last of your ka, entirely human and void of any sort of sorcerer's power, is to be reincarnated. This chosen one will be the one able to retrieve the box from its resting place and assemble the puzzle inside. Only then, when your ka is reunited, will you be free to achieve your tasks."

"Wait, tasks? What are you talking about?"

"It will come in due time, my pharaoh."

"Why do you keep calling me 'pharaoh'?!"

"I cannot explain…"

He groaned loudly. This was doing nothing but opening the door for more questions that probably couldn't be answered either. He decided it might be best to try a new train of thought.

"This darkness…it clings to me like a lost child. And it is like it obeys me. Why is this so?"

"You are the darkness. It is the path you chose in your training. You have become one with it. Only reuniting with your ka will bring balance."

He looked down. The box was still watching. It seemed like it was mocking his misery, with its eye and carved gold surfaces.

He bent down to lift it. His fingers passed through, only adding to the mocking nature of the box. The magician bent down and picked it up with ease. He really was a spirit, it seemed.

"Kuriboh and I are two of your shadow servants. We will be helping to protect you and the puzzle from coming to any harm until the chosen one arrives."

"Shadow servants?"

"You are the shadows. We merely serve you. When you become familiar with your power, you will understand."

The magician set the box back on its pedestal across the bridge. As he walked towards it, the bridge carvings seemed to stir slightly.

"What is your name?"

"I am the Dark Magician."

"Well, I suppose I should have guessed that one."

"There are other shadow servants as well. We exist in these stone slabs which the bridge is built of. We come when summoned by you when danger is present."

"I am quite at a loss…"

"In due time, my pharaoh." The Dark Magician bowed. "We must go, our time here is shortened. There is not enough magic to support our ka for long. Be well." The form then slowly slipped into the nearest blank stone on the bridge path. The magician's image appeared. Kuriboh looked up, eyes full of regret.

"It's alright. You do what you must. Thank you for stopping the thief. I will never forget your noble actions."

Grinning (with its eyes, because its mouth was lost in the fur) and letting out one final happy squeal, Kuriboh bounced back to its respective place on the stone walkway.

He was left alone. Only this time was much more oppressive than his initial coming into existence. Before he was merely curios; now, he was utterly lost.

"Who am I?" He asked the empty walls. He had already gotten a vague idea of that answer, though.

He looked at his hands. For the first time, he noticed what it was he wore. There were gold bracelets on his wrists, upper arms, and legs. Bars of equal weight in the metal dangled from his ears. His short gown was a crisp, ghostly white with a heavy belt that held in place a strip of decorated royal purple cloth hanging down his front. Around his neck was a long cape of the same deep color. Resting on his forehead was a thick gold headdress, marking him as one with high status.

He removed the headband to examine it closer. It was heavy and cold in his hand. The center sported a fairly unfriendly looking eye similar to the one carved into the puzzle box.

'Pharaoh...' he thought bitterly as he inspected his crown. 'Whatever I was once, it doesn't matter now. Now I'm just a shadow…' He looked down into the pool of black beneath him, searching for an appropriate name for himself given that he could not remember if he ever had one. To his surprise, it was not an Egyptian word that his mind picked. He actually wasn't sure what language it was at all. He could have just made it up.

'Shadows…Darkness…Yami. I am Yami.' He slowly put the headband back on, brushing his bangs out of his face.

"I am Yami." He said it to the darkness, as if to prove that he could take control of his life if he wanted.

The darkness just laughed. Or, at least, that's what Yami thought.

He felt completely separated, as if he left parts of himself behind somewhere. It wasn't just that he knew half his ka was being born into some other place. He could feel his own presence in the room. It mostly came from the puzzle box. The fact that he couldn't pull himself together explained his inability to touch solid objects, but it depressed him to no end.

"I'll never be free of this, will I?" No one answered.

Dejected and hopeless, Yami slunk back into the puzzle box to wait out the return of this "chosen one." He was immersed in the realm of darkness from which he originated, where he curled into the fetal position and cried. His sobs were lost in the void.

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And so it went for three thousand long years that he spoke to virtually no one. Occasionally, he punished thieves who would try to take the puzzle from the chamber. He had no way of knowing if he was perhaps killing the chosen one. On one of the rare occasions that Dark Magician returned (it was the only one of his servants that would give him the time of day, besides Kuriboh, who didn't count because it couldn't speak) he asked it how he would know the chosen one, to which the magician responded, "You will know in your heart."

Yami didn't know if he even had a heart. That was probably in the puzzle someplace, too.

When he wasn't punishing thieves, he was just floating. He could only be outside the puzzle box for short periods of time. And he can't get too far from it. He learned those things the hard way. Once, he had decided he should try and just leave the room. The second time he got so tired of being lost inside the puzzle that he spent an hour trying to summon Kuriboh. Both times, his vision blurred, the room spun, and he was swept away by the darkness into the puzzle box. It was a feeling akin to passing out while being crushed by a tidal wave. He was then punished by the darkness by being trapped in the Shadow Realm for what felt like an eternity, left to freeze and suffocate. And because he was just a spirit, it couldn't really hurt him. But it sure felt like it could.

The Shadow Realm. Yami also learned of this place from the Dark Magician. Apparently it was the realm that he could "control." It seemed like more and more, it was the one controlling him.

Dark Magician said it would take time and practice for him to learn how to use his unknown powers.

Yami was too afraid of pissing off the shadows again to try anything.

Three thousand years he waited. Three thousand of the coldest, most lonesome years you could imagine.

Ask any teenager, and you will find that they will come to one consensus; no one wants to really be ignored. No one wants to be left alone and left involuntarily to a life non-existence. That thought would depress anyone in an instant.

Yami was completely ignored. And he didn't ever ask for this, he knew that. Who would want a life of complete solitude?

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If I could reach you,
I'd guide you and teach you
To walk from the darkness
Back into the light.

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AN: Song used is from "Jekyll and Hyde." Just so you know.

Okay, so please review. I wrote this with The Abridged Movie playing in the background…so writing it seriously was difficult. I hope it turned out alright.

Chapter 2 soon! Akina out!