Polished black leather kicked up a blanket of dust as Seto entered the common room. Passing an overturned chess board, his boot sent the black king skittering away.
The sound of children laughing echoed in the empty rooms, but it was memories, not ghosts, that haunted him.
The building felt empty now, abandoned, devoid of the life that once thrived there.
Just like him.
He clutched the locket around his neck.
I promised Mokuba things would get better…
"What will you do with it, sir?" Roland asked.
"Rebuild it."
Seto spared the room a final once-over, turned, and walked away.