***Ran out of room. Anyway, this is M for adult themes (you know the ones I'm talking about). I'm close enough to the end of this that I figured what the crap, let's start posting.

For a zombie fic, this prologue has absolutely nothing to do with zombies, sorry. That changes in chapter 1, however, and since this section is so short I'll post ch1 in a few days instead of waiting an entire week.

I tried to be really fair with this story. Definitely got out of my comfort zone with this fic. It's longer than I usually write, and it has more characters than I usually write, some of which *cough-Atem-cough* I hate, but like I said, I tried to be fair with all the characters, which was really hard to do. I also tried to make sure all the main characters grow and mature as characters throughout the fic. They may not be quite as innocent as they were in the manga but that's because, well, freaking zombies and life is hard.

List of pairings (by name because I don't want to find them all in the Shipper's List):

Yugi x Anzu
Jonouchi x Mai
Honda x Shizuka
Seto x Atem (I don't even know why this is in here, but it is)
Seto x Kisara
Ishizu x Rishid
Thief King x Marik
Ryo x Kek (Yami Marik)

Not all ships get lemons, but many have at least one, although it's mostly Citronshipping and Deathshipping (obviously, because I'm writing it, and that's what I always write).

Sorry for the long author's note.***

He had to find Marik.

If the former tomb-thief shared the gods' faith in Atem he would have been content to stay in Aaru, listening to his father's stories, dancing with cousins in firelight, swimming, sparing, acting in the great theater. There was always something to do in Paradise and always enough time in which to do it. It would not take long before Marik joined him. The time of a living breath and the time it took the earth the cycle the sun a thousand times were the same amount of time to the dead. Then Bakura could show Marik the fields and the orchards. He could show Marik secret gardens where the moon shone instead of the sun. There, in gardens of blue lotus, wild celery, and papyrus plants, Bakura – that was the name he identified with now, because that was the name he gave Marik to call him – would whisper in Marik's ear all the things the thief never realized until it was too late.

It would not take long as Bakura waited for Marik's life to end.

But something felt wrong. He and Amane had talked about it. They often sat on the edge of one of the great bluffs overlooking the eternal wheat fields, their white hair chasing each other in the breeze. Usually she scolded him, but the last time they spoke she kept fretting about her brother.

He doesn't write anymore. Something is wrong.

And Bakura agreed, but instead of admitting it he said, Maybe he's too busy.

Then he would write about being busy.

Maybe he's in love and doesn't need you anymore.

Then he would write and tell me how happy he was. You're an idiot. It's not about needing me; it's about talking to me. The only time he stopped writing was when you got in the way.

People change.

It's more than that. My father found me.

That's good.

He said people don't die anymore.

Then why is he here?

He said he had to die twice. I told you . . . something's wrong.

Ask the gods.

I don't trust them.

Bakura gave her an amused snort. Maybe you're not as naive as I thought.

I never have been. You're the childish one.

Well, what do you expect me to do?

They say Thoth will do anything for a dice game.

Yes. He won five more days a year that way so Nut could give birth.

Amane handed Bakura a pair of dice. She wore a stubborn expression and looked like a copy of her brother at that moment – only older. All spirits were adults in Aaru. She nodded at the dice in Bakura's hand.

Why don't you go and do what you're best at?

Playing dice?

Challenging the gods.

Why do I care what goes on in the living realm? I'm done with all that pain.

I know you care. Besides, there's someone else important to you there. Do you trust the Pharaoh to protect the ones we love?

Bakura closed his eyes. You know I don't.

Then go find Marik, and after you find him, find my brother and tell him to write me.

He hated to admit it, but she was right, and of course, something had to be wrong if they sent the Pharaoh back among the living. That's all the spirits of Aaru spoke about – how they sent one of the Pharaohs back, and out of all the Pharaoh's to choose from it would be that Pharaoh. Bakura heard the news in the olive orchards what seemed like days ago.

Sending Atem back to the living world meant something was wrong beyond natural disaster or the cruelty of mankind. There were always wars, and earthquakes, always violence from humans and nature alike, but the gods never intervened. The fact that they had, and sent their human representation among the living, meant that something supernatural was happening, and Bakura didn't trust the Pharaoh to save anyone other than his own friends.

That's how it'd always been. The Pharaoh was a good and noble king who loved and protected – a small group of elite individuals while everyone else suffered.

But who would save everyone else? And who would save Ryo? And who would save Marik?

Not Atem.

Thus Bakura found himself searching eternity for a way back to the Duat so he could figure out how to accomplish the impossible and bring himself back from the dead. The thief knew there had to be a way. If the gods could travel from Aaru to the Duat then there had to be a way for him to escape. He snorted. Who would ever want to escape Paradise? But he couldn't suffer the thought of the Pharaoh back on earth while he played games and read novels under the shade of peach trees.

Marik's mother stood in front of him. He saw Marik in her face, although she resembled his sister more. She wore white. Everyone wore white unless they attended a festival or some other special occasion. Except Bakura, he wore scarlet.

Bakura bowed to her and then walked past her. It wasn't uncommon, to see the ancestor of someone you knew in the living world. The shared connection often drew the spirits together in the spirit world, and he'd been thinking about Marik more than usual since his odd quest began.

"I know what you're looking for," she said as he passed her.

"Oh?" He stopped walking. Tall garlic grass tickled his feet as he waited.

"I know how to find it, too."

"But?"

"If I tell you. I want a favor."

"What kind of favor?"

"I will teach you a lullaby. Sing it to my children for me."

"I don't sing."

"You will for Marik."

Bakura narrowed his eyes at the woman. "Are you as stubborn and willful as he is?"

She smiled. "He's my son."

"Fine. No use arguing with you, then. Teach me your song and your secret."

She made him repeat the lyrics until she was satisfied he remembered them correctly. Then she embraced him. "Find the sha. They can move between the realms."

Bakura nodded and they parted ways, walking in opposite directions as if they'd never met. The smell of amber, and clay, and lilies clung to the air from her perfume and Bakura made a note to tell Marik the detail. He thought it might make Marik happy to know what his mother's perfume smelled like.

The sha, or Set Beasts, were canine-like chimeras associated with the god Set. Like the gods, they had a way of appearing and disappearing whenever they wanted. It felt like Bakura searched for days, which could be minutes or years in living time. It was impossible for Bakura to judge.

He caught sight of a pack in the desert. Thirteen beasts, their coats a motley of grays like the swirl of a monsoon sky. They circled him as he approached. Their eyes flashed yellow-white like lightning in a storm, and their fur carried the musk of ozone and electricity.

"Bored?" Bakura tried to smirk. If he feared them, then they wouldn't listen to what he had to say, and he needed to live again. "Take me to the Land of Caves. I'm going to cause the other gods some trouble."

There was no ceremony, or fanfare, or even acknowledgment. One moment Bakura felt sand burning beneath his sandals as he stared at thirteen huge beasts. The next moment Bakura saw the opening of a large stone cave and he shivered from a cold wind. The colors looked wrong, and no matter how much Bakura blinked he couldn't fix the near-imperceptible difference in them.

The sky above, the sand below, the cave before him, it all seemed a touch too pastel to be real, but the sounds were real, and they made Bakura shiver. The boiling of lakes, the keening of wind, the screams of both creatures and the cursed. Bakura stepped over the threshold of the cave's entrance.

Thoth ruled over the Land of Caves within the Duat. God of magic, Bakura knew he could find a spell to resurrect himself somewhere within Thoth's collection. But first he'd have to get past Thoth. Bakura stared at the dice in his hand. Amane made them from clay to look like a set of Monster World dice. He smiled and closed his hand around the dice as he walked into the cave. For a moment the thief couldn't see, and Bakura couldn't help but think how much Marik would hate such a place; however, as he continued to walk, the light of a flax lamp grew in the distance.

The god with the body of a man and the head of an ibis sat on a cushion surrounded by scrolls. Bakura watched Thoth scribble cutiform onto a sheet of papyrus. He stepped forward, not stopping until his shadow blocked Thoth's view of the scroll. "That looks tedious. Want a distraction?"

The god squinted at Bakura with his bird's eyes. He took another scroll, considering it a moment before turning back to Bakura. "You were the thief who crossed over because your heart managed to balance the scales regardless of your crimes."

The thief ignored the undertone in Thoth's voice. Bakura could have spent eternity arguing morality and debating the virtue, or lack thereof, of the Negative Confessions, but he had a specific purpose. He opened his palm and showed Thoth the dice. "Want a game?"

Had the god worn lips, he would have licked them. He reached out for the dice, but Bakura pulled them out of reach.

"If I win, I want a boon."

"What?"

"I get one use of any spell in your collection."

The ibis's dark, bead eyes had the look of one who knew better, but also the look of one compelled by addiction. Thoth grabbed the dice.

***Like I said, I'll post chapter 1 in a few days (and it'll have actual zombies, lol). Until then, thanks for reads/favs/reviews and thanks to Revengineer and Supersteffy for beta-ing!***