Since the newest release of the Virtual Reality World's updated settings and games, Kaiba had been complimented for many things. The integration into the game was much smoother. The graphics were even sharper, even more like real life. The smells were more vibrant. The scenery was lush and very memorable. Those that had the safety settings off or low remembered the cuts and hits that they got the next day (after signing waivers first, of course). The wind felt cool and refreshing after a long run. The waters felt chilly unless the sun had been blazing for what felt like hours.
All of it was getting perfect. More and more with every passing update there was always praise his way. There should have been, of course. With every release he'd put as much work as possible into the coding. Into the immense world that was just a hop and a skip away from reality. The praise didn't really matter, that the machines worked did. But it helped. It stroked his ego.
There was just one piece of praise this time that had his suspicions rising. He'd been reluctant to fool around with the virtual world after both mishaps in earlier years. But he'd gotten his handle on it. Cleaned the entire world out and reworked it from the ground up. Nothing that was harmful could have remained. And yet the last time he'd heard this single piece of appreciation he found himself in the laboratory basement.
His hands clenched, foolish as it was to be apprehensive. If he'd heard tales of a green haired boy or perhaps five fat old men he wouldn't have hesitated a second. But this was a different story.
People had come out of the pods recounting how chilled, how frightened they were at the appearance of a dead-eyed celebrity. A ghost. Wandering the planes near them. Something off and quite unnerving to the players that they often lost focus on their missions and lost because of it. They all assumed he'd put it in the game on purpose.
The problem was he hadn't. And now he had to go find out what they were jabbering on about. He'd dug through code for days to try and figure out what was wrong that way. Nothing had turned up. So it left him one choice. To go into the game and find it for himself.
Finally he rolled his shoulders back and hopped into the pod with a scoff. He wasn't scared. He was Kaiba Seto. Kaiba Seto was scared of nothing, after all. The shield closed over him and he closed his eyes. Within another moment of opening them he found himself standing in a vast field. They'd at least been right about that. The immersion into the game had gotten so much better.
Calling for the code inside revealed to be just as helpful as going through it on his computer. So with an annoyed sigh he realized his only option was to start a mission and see what he could find that way. He picked one of the more difficult ones. Full of danger, assassins, shooters, monsters. The only real goal was to see if you could make it to the end of the level. He was skilled, managing to dodge and take out his assaulters without a second thought.
His level up when he got his Blue Eyes back in his control was exhilarating. Even he was patting himself on the back at that point. But then things got quiet. It was normal, a false lull in the game to give the player a sense of security. He was ready for whatever would pop out. In the very edge of his peripheral he thought he saw something pass. It caused him to turn sharply, but there was nothing to see. Along his back and creeping along his neck then were prickling chills. He whipped around. There was nothing then, either.
His head set proudly and he kept on going. From time to time he thought he saw someone walking in the shadows along the forest. Right out of frame, exactly far enough away that he couldn't see them. If he were just a normal player he may have assumed this was something out to get him. Something in the game.
But it wasn't.
He hadn't programmed for this. This was the ghost people were talking about. Going after it only chased it further away, though. In the end he completely abandoned his mission path in search of the small trails the ghost was leaving for him. Every time he came to a dead end he got more and more frustrated. It left him running left and then to the right again, straight and then backwards. It became entirely too much and the ghost seemed to lead him right off the map into a plane of existence he was absolutely sure shouldn't have existed.
A cold and dead land. Brown faded grass stretching on for miles. Gray sky above. But now he was out in a clearing and there was no one around. No trace of that supposed spirit. His anger rose enough for him to shout then.
"Come out, coward!"
His voice sounded as if it echoed for miles before dying, dropping out of the realm of being heard so suddenly he may have flinched. And then he heard it-
"Kai-"
When he turned around, standing not five feet away from him was the literal ghost of his past. Yuugi- no. The other- …no. Atem, wasn't it?
Those red eyes he remembered so well were open wide. Empty. Nothing in them that carried the usual significance. Nothing that compelled him. His expression was empty. And yet the way Atem was looking at him was damnably accusing.
"-ba..-"
The continuation followed but Atem's mouth hadn't moved. Was Kaiba imagining him saying it?
He narrowed his eyes, hands clenching at his sides. Whatever this was it could be solved. Yet he couldn't bring himself to grab for the gun in his holster or call for his Blue Eyes. "What do you want?" His tone was level. And to his credit, in the mood he was in, he was able to wait for at least a minute with Atem staring at him so blankly with no response. It was as much as he could take before he sneered.
"You're dead." He said, as if to confirm his suspicions. Atem had been dead a long time. A long, long time.
But the ghost in the game did nothing. He only kept staring. Dead eyes faded, skin pale, lips drawn downward in a faint frown. Disapproving even in his blankness. Kaiba's teeth clenched looking at him. He was getting a sickening feeling in his stomach. A tight knot in his chest.
"You're dead!" This shout didn't echo, but it failed to make an impression on the man standing a few feet away. He still refused to respond. To move. To even breathe. He just continued to stand still, to stare in such a way that welled dread in Kaiba's very being.
It became too much. "Blue Eyes!" He called for his dragon, appearing ever as faithful in the sky with a roar. The wind didn't even seem to touch Atem's bangs as it might have so long ago. Everything about him was still. "Burst stream!" The dragon unleashed the attack without a second thought, the blue electrified cylinder enveloping the space Atem had been standing in. When it let up he seemed to be gone, nothing but ashes and fire in his wake.
Kaiba's shoulders dropped, he released his held breath. Was that all? Over now?
…defeated?
Suddenly he realized he was panting as those prickles touched the back of his neck again. He went tense before turning.
"Kaiba."
Those dead eyes in his face, so close he thought he could feel the cold coming off of Atem's body in waves. He jerked back with a stabbing pain in his chest-
Awake in the safety of his laboratory basement. Breathing hard, hand reaching up to cover the warm space of his heart, beating so rapidly. It took him a few seconds to be able to gather himself and stand on shaky legs. His eyes searched every shadow in the corners of the lab before he turned to the door. It slid upon when he neared and he stood in the frame, hesitating as he looked back at the pod.
Kaiba-
"Enough." Growled curtly as he turned quickly away. Back to his office. To where he belonged high above the city. Above everyone else. The only problem was when he sat in his chair, back to the sky and the people below, he could have sworn he felt those eyes on him again.
It took all he had to ignore it, to not turn around. Every now and again, when his concentration slipped, though, his hand moved up over his heart. Where it still felt like it'd been pierced. Right in the place where it still felt like it'd been pierced. Pierced by the ghost lingering in the darker spaces of his mind. The cold prickles touched the back of his neck again. Stiffening in his seat, keeping himself from looking.
But he could feel it.
Those eyes.
Staring.
