FAUST - YU-GI-OH STYLE

Chapter Three: The Choice


Pharaoh Atemu did not sleep well as he tossed and turned thinking about the demonic entity's proposal. If he did manage to sleep, his mind ran a myriad of interchanged possibilities and consequences should he accept the pact.

The sleepless nights took a physical toll on Atemu in the mornings. He could not get out of bed. Unbearable pain shot from his back and shoulder blades.

Per Atemu's request, the High Priest Set was asked to aid the ailing monarch. The high priest was not only gifted with a strong ka and disposition that could awaken the fiercest monsters trapped in stones, but was also endowed with the gift of alchemy and healing.

After being announced, Set slightly bowed before the Pharaoh's presence. He slowly straightened up and carefully placed his wooden box filled with various herbs, vials, and oils. He then gently assisted a pain-ridden Atemu in removing his upper garment.

The monarch gritted his teeth from the excruciating pain that radiated from his worn-out body.

Set laid his hands on the Pharaoh's back and closed his eyes - offering a prayer to Sekhmet before he administered his treatment. From his touch, he assessed that the monarch's ailment was now far worse than the previous occasions. Using his firm hands and dexterous fingers, the high priest meticulously and patiently massaged the ailing monarch from head to toe - concentrating mostly in the back and shoulder areas.

While doing so, the magical and healing energies emanating from the young priest - as well as the oils and herbs - gave Atemu the slow but sure relief that he was seeking.

"Your Majesty's body is rebelling against the abuses you give it," the high priest quietly commented.

"I could not sleep very well lately," Atemu responded in the middle of painful groans.

Tight-lipped, Set replied, "You are not resting under the goddess Sekhmet's care. You, my Pharaoh, are the living god on the Earth. Your physical well-being is important - whether it be you are a commoner or the ruler of Egypt."

"I appreciate your concern but there are too many matters to sort out," Atemu mumbled. He felt continued relief from Set's healing touch. He closed his tired eyes and gave in to the effects of the high priest's comforting treatment - lulling him to the sleep that he was deprived from for many nights.

When Set was done, he stared at the haggard figure that slept on the bed. He felt empathy and sorrow that such a tireless figure that he had known since childhood was trapped in an ailing and aging body. In all the alchemy and magic that he knew, the azure-eyed Set wished that he had known an incantation to revert time and bequeath its lease to the Pharaoh.

Since Set could not cheat time, even for the noblest of intentions, all he could do was to occasionally provide his service. After all, he felt that it was a small token compared to the sacrifices that the elderly monarch did for the entire country.

With the exception of the Pharaoh, Set dared not show such display of gentleness and understanding. For the others around him, he maintained his rigid demeanor - even crossing the line towards cruelty, if the occasion necessitated such behavior.

After Set stood for minutes and made sure that Atemu was sound asleep, the priest slowly placed a linen sheet to cover his patient's body, quietly exited out of the bedchambers, and firmly instructed the guards not to let anyone disturb the Pharaoh.


The eve of Atemu's fiftieth birthday finally came.

As Atemu had done every evening since his youth, he busied himself with the mountain of papyrus scrolls that needed his attention and approval. However, his mind was too pre-occupied - anticipating the demonic visitor who promised to return for his decision.

In the middle of the night, the desert air blew its eerie and chilly presence within his chambers.

The hairs from the nape of Atemu's neck stood up and chills traveled throughout his spine. Neatly rolling the papyrus he was reading and carefully placing it back in the pile of his table, he stood up from his chair. He then walked until he reached the same spot he stood two nights ago when the demon first appeared.

Atemu muttered under his breath as his eyes scanned his bedchambers, "He is here..."

The heavy fog rolled from the balcony and seeped within his room - completely covering the marbled floor. A pentagram illuminated in front of Atemu.

Eventually, a shadow eerily crept out from the mystical illumination and solidified into the demonic entity. With arms crossed in front of it, it asked in a low voice, "So what is your decision, dear Pharaoh?"

Unflinching, Atemu declared, "I have already considered it."

"What would it be, then?"

Without hesitation, the Pharaoh quietly said, "I will take your offer..."

The entity gave a quiet and malevolent smirk. "I am glad you accept. I do remind you..."

"The pact is irrevocable. Yes, I understand..."

Burning red eyes illuminated in the darkness - meeting the elderly monarch's unwavering amethyst gaze. "By accepting, do you also embrace the consequences of the pact?"

After deeply breathing, Atemu responded, "I do."

As soon as he responded, a vortex formed above the demon's head - thereby producing a jeweled dagger and a blank papyrus. The two objects then rested on the demon's left palm. The golden dagger - studded with precious gems - glinted mercilessly in the dark.

"Then we begin sealing our pact. Give me your arm." The demon then extended its sinister and monstrous right hand.

Atemu took a long look at the demon's hand and arm. Eventually, his gaze trailed up to the demon's warped face and glowing red eyes. For a moment, he hesitated. However, his desire to gain a second chance in life dominated within his heart. Upon solidifying his resolve, he said, "Before I accept the pact, tell me your name."

"I am Zork, dear Pharaoh. Now give me your arm."

Atemu extended his arm and rested it on the demon's hand. He tightly closed his eyes and quickly bit his lips as the demon gashed his arm. The unnerving silence was eerily disturbed by the trickles of his blood generously dripping on the marbled floor.

Zork gave Atemu the dagger and instructed the latter to do the same on his arm. Seconds after thick black liquid oozed from a deep wound, the demon then said, "Wrap your wounded arm over mine and let our flesh touch. Let the blood drip on the papyrus."

Man and demon locked arms and clenched their fists. They allowed their blood to mingle on the papyrus - soaking it until it turned completely blood-red. A pentagram then appeared in the middle of the papyrus. The blood coagulated until it formed into red hieroglyphic texts - formalizing the demonic pact between Atemu and Zork.

The entity intently stated, "Tomorrow, the day that the land celebrates your birth, will mark the beginning of our pact. You will get all that you desire, beginning with what is most earnest in your heart. What do you desire to obtain first?"

The Pharaoh grimly replied, "I wish to be young again."

With a knowingly evil smile, Zork commented, "Then you will have your first wish and much more. We will definitely see each other more often, now that we are one. Farewell for now, dear Pharaoh Atemu."

The pentagram that marked the demon's entrance reappeared and reclaimed Zork. Along with the demon's disappearance, the fog dissipated - leaving Atemu alone once again in his bedchambers.

Atemu looked at his deeply wounded arm, contemplating whether he had made the right decision. The pain of the deep gash throbbed and made him feel weaker than usual. However, before his very eyes, the wound magically healed - as if it had never been inflicted.

The Pharaoh then went to bed, even though he knew that tonight would be another sleepless one for him. Tossing and turning, he was bothered by both his conscience and his anticipation of what would be in store for him beginning tomorrow.


Tonight was the feast of Atemu's fiftieth birthday.

Egyptian and foreign nobility, politicians, counselors, and esteemed citizens were present to give homage. The heralds sounded their instruments, preparing the eager throng for the Pharaoh's entrance. The huge ornate doors to the throne room opened, revealing the royal guest of honor and his entourage of six priests.

Everyone bowed to give tribute and respect for the celebrant.

As soon as Atemu reached his throne, he turned around to face and thank the crowd. Before he opened his mouth, he felt a magical surge of energy travel through his frail body.

The crowd gasped as a bright light shone from above and basked the Pharaoh in seemingly-divine light.

The six priests, who normally stood three on each side of the throne, backed away and joined the throng. All looked in astonishment - not knowing if the illumination was a blessing from the gods, or a curse.

Atemu knew that the event before him was the result of the pact. He mused, as he intently saw and surely felt his wrinkled hands slowly return to their former strength and youthful firmness, "It has begun..."

Unbeknownst to everyone, Zork lurked in the shadows behind one of the grand pillars and read the Pharaoh's thoughts. With his malevolently glowing red eyes focused on a rejuvenating Atemu, he quietly chuckled, "It truly has begun, dear Pharaoh. Today marks the beginning of your destruction."

End of Chapter Three


Normal Disclaimer:

Yu-Gi-Oh is the copyrighted property of Kazuki Takahashi. Faust belongs to Goethe, Marlowe, and all others who currently own the rights to this literary piece.

This fanfic, however, belongs to me.

To the reader: this fanfic is for entertainment purposes only. The author is therefore released from any liability resulting from the material contained within.