It was a stroke of luck that he'd gained the vortex manipulator. The Master had begun to think no one every traveled to Egypt after so waiting for so long. He was the first to greet the young Time Agent who'd appeared, and was glad that he'd remembered how to monitor the vortex after so long.
The time agent in question seemed capable, if far to trusting. Her disguise was impeccable except for the wrist strap that, the Master knew, she wouldn't dare leave laying around.
"Where did you find this?"
"Just a piece of decoration. From my home." she replies. She allows the Master to take it off, though she impressed upon him the importance of giving it back before addressing what's important to her. "There was a village near here, wasn't there?"
"There was." the Master answers truthfully. "It burned down several years ago."
"Oh." The girl's face seems to turn inward from contemplation. She obviously misjudged what time she needed to travel to.
"Did you have family here?"
"No," the girl smiles slightly at the thought. "There was just a boy here who helped me once. I wanted to thank him, and give him something in return."
In other words, she wants to change history. A dangerous course of action. But she's given the Master what he wants. In return, he'll ensure that she doesn't know what was stolen from her. It takes time but soon enough, this young lady is convinced that she's lived her entire life in Egypt. The young Time Agent has never heard of the organization she once belonged to. It it's place is devotion to the boy she traveled through time to find again.
The woman is exhausted from fighting the Master and slumps to the ground. "Seto," she murmurs and the Master knows that he succeeded.
Finally, he has gotten the Millennium Ring! Years of planning and waiting are finally paying off. The Ring rests comfortably around Bakura's chest as he makes his way to his chosen hiding spot.
The Master, or Mehhur as he calls himself now, had requested rather impolitely that Bakura provide him with a luxurious lifestyle. That had almost been enough to make Bakura break off their deal. Bakura did not provide others with with his own ill-gotten gains. But Bakura had realized that such a requested could work in his own favor before that happened.
In only a few days, Mehhur managed to become a well respected member of the local community. People who had barely met Mehhur acted as though they had known the man their entire lives. They spilled their secrets to Mehhur, if the man so desired, and were always happy to hand over treasured items for Mehhur's gain.
Not even Mehhur's bizzare mannerisms or the few times he'd been seen in the same location as the dreaded tomb robber Bakura had made no impact on people's perception of him. It was impossible for such a good man to associate with such an obvious criminal as Bakura. Therefore, Bakura could never be able to hide in Mehhur's house.
The irony almost makes Bakura laugh. He doesn't know how Mehhur had managed such indoctrination but at least Bakura seemed to be immune to its effects. He continues to use Mehhur's home as a hideout even after he stopped providing the man with limited amounts of gold.
When Bakura enters, Mehhur is holding some magic item and grinning like a child with a new toy. It seems solid, unlike the last time Bakura had seen the item. Items had been scattered all over the place as Mehhur attempted to piece it together correctly. The design seemed unreliable to Bakura. If the Millennium Items worked in one solid piece, why would others need to be put together?
But Bakura's only experience with magic only involved the Millennium Items. Perhaps magic that did involve human sacrifice required a little more effort in their creation. Mehhur insists that the object isn't magical whenever Bakura asks, which is a ridiculous claim. Anything that can teleport a person must contain some form of magic.
It isn't just the object that's strange, however. Mehhur is wearing bizarre clothing that wraps neatly around his body. Rather than the kilt Mehhur usually wore, he wore strange light blue clothing that wrapped around both his legs before joining at the top. And then there's the thick, grey, clothing that wraps around the other man's torso and extends all the way from the shoulders to the wrists. The clothing is probably a style from some far away land though that doesn't explain why Mehhur is wearing it.
"Are you planning on dying of heat? Because a fire would speed the process along."
Bakura receives a glare for his comment. Any mask of civility falls away the instant Bakura appears. It has probably only been sheer luck that neither one had seriously insulted the other. So many purposeful and accidental insults had been tossed back and forth.
"The sooner I get away from this primitive place and it's clothing, the better." Mehhur's face wrinkles in distaste.
"There's nothing wrong with this clothing." Bakura growls. He can't argue that this country isn't primitive. Not after all he saw in Mehhur's mind of other worlds. "Yours is the one designed to kill people from the heat. How is it possible to move in that thing?"
Instead of answering, Mehhur straps the magic item around his wrist. Which is just as well. Even for something so simple, Mehhur would explain things in words Bakura can't possibly hope to understand, even with some of Mehhur's memories rattling around inside Bakura's mind.
"Put your hand here." Mehhur instructs, touching the area. Bakura complies with this 'request' worded as an order. He can hear the sound of the Pharaoh's guards out in the streets now, scouring the entire city in search of him. He's not ready to face Ra, Slifer, or Obelisk now, which is inevitable if the guards find him.
"One more thing." Mehhur says, "Where we're going, I'm not Mehhur or the Master. I'm Harold Saxon."
Bakura doesn't know why Mehhur changes his name wherever he goes. One name works just fine. But, if the Master wants to be known as Harold Saxon, Bakura sees no reason not to agree.
"Whatever. Are we going or not?" Bakura demands. Mehhur – Harold Saxon – glares once again, but pushes buttons on the magic item. The entire world seems to spin around him and Bakura knows their traveling to one of the places in Mehhur, now Harold Saxon's, mind.
AN: Since I can't figure out what the Master's powers are, he's getting whatevers plot convinient (or skipped over since neither of the characters care to think about how the Master gets things done). In other news, I'm going to make a poll. There are several ways this story can go and I'd like to see what seems most interesting to you. The options so far would be:
1) Shadow Magic interferes with the vortex manipulator and the Master and Bakura end up in Domino post-Battle City
2) Something damaged the vortex manipulator and the Master and Bakura end up in Kul Elna before the creation of the Millennium Items
3) The Master and Bakura go where they were supposed to go and end up on another planet.
Something to remember is that just because something wins the poll does not necessarily mean that it'll be what's chosen to continue. However, it does increase the chances since I'll be putting more thought into how to plot that out.