How long had it been?

It was impossible to judge any amount of time-trying to count off ten seconds might have taken ten hours, for all Atem knew. He was no longer walking, so he tried to keep track of his even paddle strokes instead of his footsteps. Each stroke could've taken two days, but counting was all he could do. One thousand strokes. Two thousand. Three. Four… twenty. Twenty thousand seconds? Hours? Decades?

It felt like an eternity.

Dragging his paddle backward took almost no effort, but backing water was like hitting a brick wall with a stick. If Atem lifted his paddle at all, the murky water from the striped river would splash, and its droplets would sting his face and skin. Atem considered directing his riverboat toward the clear, sparkling streak of river in the middle, as it looked much less toxicant than the stream's edges, but something told him that would be dangerous. For one thing, he was recalling more Ancient Egyptian myths about it. Every night, the sun god Ra would ride his sun boat down this river, beating back the monsters of the dark. His energy was so powerful, Atem figured the clear stripe had formed from the water being cleansed by Ra's boat for so long. He didn't want to disrespect Ra by in any way by following the ancient sun boat's path with his lowly craft, so he stuck near the edge-Atem was beginning to understand why learning humility was so important for this journey.

Another, more confusing reason for avoiding the center: The moment his riverboat had begun to travel, Atem knew there was a certain path he had to take, and each path was different for everyone. It was a straight river, but Atem could somehow tell what his route should be, like it was etched into his mind. He knew that if he turned the boat, or even tilted a single degree out of place, he would lose his way. His mind-map would vanish, and backtracking would be almost impossible. Lost in a perfectly straight river for all eternity… Atem could think of no worse punishment.

Well, maybe one, a little voice in his head said. He pushed it away and began to stroke vigorously, like he was trying to push his emotion away with the paddle. At least it was easy to distract himself-here, there were not only more mosquitoes, but Atem occasionally saw ominous shadows under the water. He had absolutely no idea what he would do if one of them attacked-a five-foot stick wouldn't do much good against an eleven-foot crocodile. He was also weary from travel-not tired, just severely mentally strained. Sleeping might have helped, but it was impossible. Even if it was, Atem doubted he could even close his eyes, with the rushing water, murky shadows...and the fear of what was to come.

It was impossible to deny the Judgement now. Though he tried to hide it, Atem was terrified. There was a reason he had been called Yami-dark. He had tangled with the Shadows, and he would now face the consequences. There was no way his shadow-twisted soul could be lighter than the Feather of Truth. Had he been trapped in the Millennium Puzzle for thousands of years and let out so he could save the world, only to have it end like this?

Atem was so distracted, he barely noticed when his craft bumped against another black, sandy beach. He looked up to see an enormous silver beach jutting from among the dark trees, sticking out like a peacock in a flock of crows. Careful not to put his bare feet in the water, Atem stepped out of the riverboat and stared at the Hall of Judgement. It looked like a cross between an Ancient Egyptian temple and the White House, only twice as big. The Judgement Hall seemed about a hundred yards away, so with a heavy heart, Atem began to walk as he heard his boat crumble to ash behind him. There was a strange feeling in the pit of his stomach, and there wasn't really an exact word to describe it, but Atem supposed the closest was: Condemned.

The journey to the Hall of Judgement was too short, and when Atem got there, he found someone waiting for him. He was tall and lean, wearing golden Egyptian robes. His body was human, but he had the head of a chestnut-brown jackal with sharp red eyes and tall, pointed had on a golden collar engraved with hieroglyphics. Atem knew immediately who he was: Anubis, the god of the dead.

"We've been expecting you," Anubis said smoothly. "Come." Without another word, the jackal-headed god turned and marched toward the bronze doors, which opened by themselves. Anubis gestured to Atem to follow and strode through. Atem hesitated, gathering his courage, and conjured up an image of Yugi in his mind for luck. Then he stepped past the gate and went after Anubis.p

Judgement time.

A/N Sorry it took me so long to put this up when it's probably the shortest chapter. And yes, I know it's a "murder" not a "flock" of crows, but that felt like it would have messed up the flow of the story a little. Fine, that's lame… I was having trouble thinking of similes okay? Thanks to... Actually, no new reviews! :/ Thanks Atakiri Mizuyuki for letting me bounce ideas off you(and possibly bug you, I don't know). So all of you who read without reviewing: I have a proposition for you. Probably the #1 reason people don't review is they're too lazy (no offense) or they don't know what to say. So here's a solution: You like it, type "y" in the review box and send. You don't like it, type "n" in the review box and send. Capiche? Good. Of course, I would like a little more info, but still, I'm here to say it's absolutely fine to give me a one-letter review. Seriously, people. The reason I don't review everything is because I read a lot of fanfic over my Nintendo, which is more of a Web 1.0 tool so I have to wait for the actual computer to review, and I forget a lot. Apologies. Anyway, thanks for reading!

A/A/N: Oh man. Oh no oh man oh gosh. Now I don't usually go back and edit past fanfics, especially three years later, but I absolutely had to leave a note on this one. I am not kidding when I say that this day, September 1st, 2016, 3:45 in the morning, is the first day since this story's publication that I've just been able to go back and casually reread this. There has just been too much cringe to even look at this fanfic. But you know what I'm finding? I don't think that this story is all that terrible yet. Amateurish and slow-paced, yes (I bet this could have been a oneshot) but there's no horribly CRINGE writing. I had it all up on a pedestal in my mind as That Pandering Disaster of a Fanfic. And yet, despite all that, the worst part of this is this AUTHOR'S NOTE. I cannot believe I was this rude. I cannot believe nobody flamed me and all my reviews kept being so nice. Why would anyone continue to leave reviews on a meh piece of fic with a horribly rude author behind it?! I mean, right now, JotP has seven chapters and 18 reviews! That's REALLY DARN GOOD for a first fic! How dare I complain to you wonderful people about being too lazy to review?!

I am so sorry. I apologize grievously for my past self. I can only hope this edit will prevent future generations from being scarred from the most ungrateful authors' note ever. Is this why Atakiri and I don't talk much nowadays? I wouldn't be surprised if I offended someone terribly with this. Anyways, I by some chance somebody is ever reading this again, please don't be offended by anything. I was stupid and unfamiliar with how the site worked. Forgive me.

~*Akirys*~