The Three Kings: Hunt

Disclaimer (1): Yu-gi-oh! Duel Monsters is owned by Kazuki Takahashi, Studio Gallop, Nihon Ad Systems, and TV Tokyo. Harry Potter is owned by J. K. Rowling, Bloomsbury Publishing, Arthur A. Levine Books, and Warner Bros. Please support the official releases.

Disclaimer (2): Chef Boyardee is owned by ConAgra Foods. Red Bull is owned by Red Bull GmbH. Free Fallin' belongs to Tom Petty, Jeff Lynne, Mike Campbell, and MCA Records. The New York Yankees are owned by Hal and Hank Steinbrenner. The Hilton Luxor Resort & Spa belongs to Hilton Hotels & Resorts.

Warning: Nudity, mentions of self-harm, PTSD-induced flashbacks, self-hatred, depression, homophobic slang, and sexist slang.

Chapter 3: Where Land Meets Water

Only when the shoreline disappears and they're out over the open water does Rex realizes that they're being followed. It scares the crap out of him for a whole lot of reasons because it's dark, they've got no offensive capabilities, and they managed to steal the shittiest brooms that the island had to offer.

It's Weevil's first time on a broom, too, since he's a muggleborn mage and all. But that means that he can barely control the damn thing and he veers back and forth every few minutes. Combines with the fact that Rebecca is clinging to Rex like a second skin and screaming for her family, they're completely and utterly fucked. He wishes Ryou was here. But he can't because Ryou's dying for their freedom back on that island and Rex refuses to let his sacrifice be in vain.

There are at least five wizards behind them, gaining quickly on their lightning fast brooms. One of them fires a spell at Rex, but he turns his skin to diamond and it harmlessly bounces off his back. He wraps an arm around Rebecca, pressing her face into his chest. He's not letting a little girl see this. It was bad enough when Weevil had to melt a witch's arm off while they escaped. He falls behind Weevil to give him some protection. But the wizards are coming in fast and Rex and hear their laughter. It's all just a game to them. Hunting mages is a fucking sport. They're killing kids for fun, those fucking monsters.

Then something really weird happens. A bright light flashes behind Rex and he turns just in time to see a column of pure magic fade into the night sky. The shockwave hits a second or two later and he struggles to maintain control of his broom. Rebecca stops crying and looks over his shoulder to watch.

"Ryou?" She whispers. And, for some reason, it fits. That magic felt like the skinny Scottish boy from the cell, but at the same time, it doesn't. Ryou is only part of that wave. And oddly enough, that feels right as well.

The second shockwave knocks Weevil clean off his broom. Rex darts down, catching him singlehandedly and swings him behind him. But this costs them precious seconds that they can't afford to waste. And now the enemy has surrounded them, laughing at the prospect of killing three kids in the middle of the Pacific Ocean. It's fucked up. Beyond fucked up. And Rex wants to see them all dead.

But Rebecca isn't crying. She's staring back towards the island, blinking in the darkness like she can see something that everyone else ca n't. Then, for the first time since he set eyes on her, Rex sees the girl smile.

"He's not dead," she breathes, eyes bright with wonder. "He's coming back for us."

Then, just as her mouth closes, the night sky goes from clear to cloudy. The stars disappear as the waves below them become choppy. The wind whips around, churning and cutting, so fast that Rex can't keep his eyes open. He hears the screams of their pursuers as they get caught up in the storm of the century and are flung around like ragdolls. It stops just as quickly as it starts and Rex opens his eyes to see the remains of brooms and bodies in the water below.

"Look," Weevil says suddenly, pointing to the air in front of them. At first, he can't see anything, but then he squints. There's fine dust in the air, almost like ash. It floats and swirls, catching in the moonlight as the clouds dissipate, before coming together and circling them twice. Rebecca giggles and passes her fingers through it as it flies by. Then the dust shoots off into the distance as if telling them to follow.

"Do you think that's...?" Weevil never finishes his question, perhaps because he's not willing to hope that the impossible happened and Ryou somehow manages to escape. But that begs the question: why the fuck is he sand?

Rex nudges the broom forwards, flying in the direction he hopes land will be in. But, strangely enough, he feels calm. Weevil occasionally swears at the fact that they're flying over an ocean on 'cleaning supplies,' Rebecca is humming a song under her breath, and they're following a friend who's disintegrated, but that's fine. Rex wonders how the hell this is his life.

Weevil doesn't know how long they've been flying and he doesn't really care, to be honest. What he does remember of the trip is a whole lot of fear and trying not to vomit (he gets seasick and carsick and apparently broomstick, as well). When the shoreline finally comes into view, he's more than a little bit grateful.

The sand takes them into a bay and Weevil recognizes the lights along the Golden Gate Bridge. They're in San Francisco. Somehow, they made it there alive. He dares to feel some hope after all of this. But then he remembers that he's never going to see his family again, that he's never going to go home. And that hurts more than anything those people from the island could ever do.

Rex touches down on a beach near the famous landmark of a bridge. Weevil immediately rolls off and lays flat on the earth.

"Oh god, I swear...never again. Never flying ever, ever again," he groans.

Rex laughs behind him, "We nearly get killed and that's what's freaking you out? Flying?"

"Fuck off, man," he throws back.

"Dude! Language!" The guy nods towards Rebecca. Weevil finally admits defeat and promises to keep it PG from here on out - an expression that, strangely, goes over Rex's head like he doesn't know what a movie is.

But before he gets the chance to clarify, he hears Rebecca scream. The two of them are at her side immediately, ready to take on any threat to her, when something comes out of the water.

It's a hand, he realizes. One that's quickly followed up by an arm, shoulders, and head. But they're entirely featureless, like a manikin in a shore window. As the creature moves through the water towards them, Weevil can see pure white hair shooting out of its head as it gains eyes and a nose and a mouth. When it makes it's way onto shore, the creature stops looking like its made of clay and more like skin and muscle and bone.

Weevil blinks and realizes that he's staring at a very wet, very naked man. Rex slaps his hand over Rebecca's eyes in response.

The man blinks at them before cracking a grin.

"We made it," he says. "Knew the Ring wouldn't lead us wrong."

Then his eyes roll up into the back of his head and he falls face first into the sand.

"What the fuck?" Rex stares. Weevil doesn't even care about the hypocrisy of him swearing. Instead, he cautiously approaches the man and flips him onto his back to get a better look at him. He's dark, with a wicked burn scar that passes through his right eye. He's short but wiry and his bone white hair sticks out at odd angles like he's stood in the middle of a wind storm.

There are other scars as well, he notices. Faint, half-healed nicks cover his fingers and feet, while his nose looks like its been broken at least twice. There are a series of razor lines on the insides of his wrists that make Weevil's throat clench. He's seen those marks on his sister before. He knows what they mean.

"Is he dead?" Rex calls from where he stands. Weevil presses his fingers into the man's neck and feels a steady pulse thumping beneath his skin.

"No, he's fine," he responds. "Who the hell is he, though?"

"No idea," Rex says. "What should we do with him?"

It's a valid question. Some clay mannikin walks out of the San Francisco Bay, turns human, and then collapses into a dead faint - all of Weevil's instincts are telling him to leave the man behind. He doesn't look normal, from the white hair that's apparently natural (he didn't mean to look, really) to the mark that covers half his face. But the scars on his wrist remind him of the sister he has back home, the one he has left teetering on the knife's edge, and it calls to him in a way he can't ignore.

"We should find him some clothes," he decides.

Rex nods and takes Rebecca with him to loot one of the shops along the street. They return with new shirts and jeans on, with a pair for him and the man. They're incredibly touristy, with the words Torpedo Wharf emblazoned across the fabric. Rebecca also seems to be clutching a stuffed seal toy and when he asks about it, Rex grumbles, "His name is Flipper."

Between the two of them, Rex and Weevil manage to get the man dressed in a hoodie that's far too big for him and a pair of cargos with more pockets than should be legal. Then they haul him up onto their shoulders. The man's bare feet drag against the ground as they carry him towards the street. Nothing is open; the roads are empty and the lights are off. The four of them are all that move in the night.

Fifteen minutes into their silent trek, Rebecca complains that her feet are sore. So, they set the man down on a bench before flopping on either side of him. The girl crawls into Rex's lap and looks like she's about to fall asleep. They have to keep her awake, though. There's no way that the two of them could carry the man and Rebecca at the same time.

"Where are we going?" Rex asks.

"No idea," Weevil answers.

"That's not good, is it?"

"Not at all."

And that's when things start to get worse. A cop car drives by and stops when it sees them. Weevil can only imagine what the four of them look like: two teenagers, one little girl, and a passed out man in stolen clothes sitting on a bench in the middle of the night. It doesn't help that they're so sleep deprived that they look like meth addicts. Yeah, they were so screwed.

"You kids alright over there?" One of the officers asks as he approaches, shining a light into Weevil's face. He shields his eyes, blinking rapidly until they adjust.

"Yeah, we're fine," Rex growls. The cops don't appreciate his tone.

"Can I see some ID?" The other one frowns and steps closer.

This is not good - really not good. Not only do they not have ID on them, but even if they did, it wouldn't do them any good. Weevil's a foreigner, Rex and Rebecca lived with the wizards before all of this, and he's pretty sure that the man didn't even exist half an hour ago. Any papers that they could have would land them in jail at best, in the loony bin at worst.

The officers must be able to smell their uneasiness because they glance at each other and then ask if, perhaps, the four of them what to take a ride to the station. This sets Weevil's nerves to near-PTSD levels of edginess because this is precisely how the wizards caught him. They'd posed as police officers and taken him right out from under his parent's roof. The idea that these two might not be real cops passes through his mind and his acid fills his mouth out of reflex.

Rebecca clings to Rex with an urgency that shows just how scared she is as one of the officers slowly reaches for his gun - except, no, it's not a gun, it's a motherfucking wand, and they have to go now and -

The man wakes up.

His eyes snap open and he lurches into action. He moves so fast that Weevil honestly doesn't know how he knocks the two cops out, but he blinks and the man stands over them, the air around him moving unnaturally. And he thinks it's impossible because Weevil could swear that he looks familiar, but he's never set a man this young before that has white hair and scars that bisect his eye.

"We need to get out of here," the man says, pulling at the collar of his hoodie and looking at his chest.

"Who the hell are you?" Rex asks suddenly, eyes wide in shock or surprise. Weevil can't tell which.

The man opens his mouth to answer, but he pauses and thinks about it as if he doesn't know. He sends Rex a perplexed look before reaching under his hoodie, "Bakura."

"What?"

"Bakura. That's... That's my name. I think. Oh," the man's knees buckle and he stumbles to keep himself upright. Weevil reaches out to hold steady him and sees that his eyes are purple - as if he could get any weirder.

"Alright there?" Weevil frowns.

"Not...not really. I think I'm going to throw up," and then Bakura does just that. All over the cops faces. He'd laugh if he knew what the fuck was going on.

When the man - Bakura, apparently - stops puking, he reaches back under his hoodie and pulls out a really gaudy necklace that Weevil knows for a fact wasn't there when he popped out of the Bay. It's a massive gold ring with five cones hanging off of it. Bakura mutters a few words in a language that ultimately escapes him and the thing jumps to life. A few seconds later, all of the cones are pointing in one direction: down the street.

"We need to got that way," Bakura says.

"Why the hell should we trust you?" Rex scowls, "You just walked out of the ocean. We've never met before. How do we know you'd not just a wizard trick?"

Bakura looks at him with his purple eyes, before sighing, "I don't understand it myself. I don't know and I don't remember. What I do know is that my name is Bakura, that I'm twenty-one years old, and that I had to get you all to San Francisco.

"I also know that, a few hours ago, I wasn't who I just said I was. Rex, we met in a cell and I told you to live. I've also never seen you before in my life. So you can see why I'm confused. I honestly don't know."

He takes a breath and continues, "This is the Millennium Ring." He points to the gold pointy thing around his neck. " I asked it to take us somewhere safe and it hasn't let me down yet. So, we need to go that way. Now."

"Ryou?" Weevil asks, breathless.

"Yes," Bakura answers. "And, no. I'm him, but he's not all I am. Now, come on."

Rex gathers Rebecca up in his arms and turns to follow the man that was once Ryou. Weevil looks back at the cops before they disappear into the night. There were no wands, just guns. He's been seeing things. That shouldn't comfort him, but it does.

To say that Bakura is confused is an incredible understatement. He knows what he's doing. He's leading three children to safety, whatever and wherever that is. But how he's doing it is a mystery to him. He's never used the Ring before today, yet he knows how to work it like it's been in his hands his entire life. Except, it hasn't been in his hands. Instead, he lived inside it.

He remembers it all. The endless hallways, the darkness, the loneliness. And the pit. Bakura remembers the pit most of all. There was a monster inside of it, one that roared and burned eternally. Except, they aren't really his memories. They're the spirit of the Millennium Ring's. And yet he is the spirit, just like he is Ryou, but isn't at the same time.

He doesn't get it. As the four of them walk in the direction the Ring is pointing them in, he tries to make sense of it all but almost tips over again in the process. Bakura's head spins and his stomach threatens to heave again. Rex puts a hand on his shoulder and asks if he wants to take a break. Bakura thinks that he can't remember the last time he ate - or if that one time even counts for anything because he's pretty sure this body is somewhere between brand new and thousands of years old.

"Got anything to eat?" Bakura asks meekly.

They don't, so they break into something Weevil calls a convenience store. Bakura is baffled by the concept of bottled water and canned pasta (though this Chef Boyardee person might be brilliant for coming up with the idea). Weevil offers to warm it up for him in something called a microwave, but he downs the contents of the can cold.

Before they leave, he excuses himself to use the washroom and ends up staring at himself in the mirror. He touches the scar that cuts through his right eye and is hit by a series of memories of a dark alley, the smell of burnt flesh, and the sound of someone - a woman - shouting his name. Bakura, she'd called him, that lightning girl that was his horizon.

Bakura shakes his head, clearing his thoughts. He takes one more look at himself, thinking that Amane wouldn't be able to recognize him now, and then leaves.

They set out again a few minutes later. Rex is carrying a practically passed out Rebecca on his back. Weevil hands Bakura a can with the words 'Red Bull' on it and tells him that it'll give him wings.

"Really?" He looked at the can and wonders when muggles learned to make potions like that.

Weevil snorts, "No. Come on, haven't you seen the commercials?"

Bakura doesn't answer because, no, he hasn't. He takes a swing of the drink. It tastes like cranberries and he doesn't get how something named after a cow and tastes like fruit is supposed to turn him into a bird.

The Ring leads them to an inn almost an hour and a half away from the Wharf they washed up on. By that time, Rex and Weevil look like they're about to fall over and Bakura is the one carrying Rebecca on his back. There's a light on in the lobby and for that he's grateful. Someone is there and, hopefully, they'll be able to tell him what's going on with his head.

Bakura wakes up Rebecca and sets her on the ground as she rubs the sleep out of her eyes. He hides the Millennium Ring under his jumper and pushes the door open for the kids to walk in.

The lobby is empty, though there is a steady beat of- Bakura think's its music, but it's unlike anything he's heard before. But the sound is coming from the door behind the front desk. Someone is back there, singing along to the words.

"Hello?" Bakura calls as Rex curls up in one of the chairs on the other side of the room and falls asleep/

"~All the bad boys were standing in the~ one second! I'll be there in a sec!" A voice calls back. "Best part's right here ~And I'm freeeeee! Freeeee fallin'!~"

There's a laugh and a blonde mop of hair appears through the doorway. It belongs to a boy in his late teens who's almost a foot taller than Bakura. He carries a mug of coffee that had the word 'Yankees' painted across the front.

"Sorry about that. Don't get a lot of people at...four in the..." the boy stops talking, gaping at Bakura like he's never seen another human being before. Then, very quickly, he sets the mug down and walks around the desk. He grabs Bakura by the shoulders and looks him dead in the eye.

"It's you..." he breathes. "It's really...it's really you! I knew it! I just knew!"

Bakura blinks and finds himself getting crushed into a hug so strong he can feel his bones creaking. He thinks the boy is on the verge of tears when he whispers, "I know it's been a few millennia, but don't ever fucking pull a stunt that again, you crazy son a bitch!"

He pulls back and holds Bakura at arm's length. The boy still stares at him like he can't believe his eyes. But then the grin slips from his face and a look of horror replaces it, "Oh shit, tell me you know who I am?"

Bakura frowns in concentration and-

They're surrounded by figures dressed in black. Their leader's face is blurred to his mind, but he's so familiar and the memory of him is warm like a lover's touch. He smirks and raises a hand in greeting.

The man beside Bakura gives him a flat look, "You better have a damn good explanation as to why a Medjay captain is calling you 'friend,' or the boss's gonna have your head."

"It's a long story, Jono," he answers-

Bakura gasps as he rights himself in reality. He stares at the boy - no, the man in front of him. The hair is a different colour and he's far too young, but it's him. It's him.

"Jono?" Bakura grabs his forearm, a smile working its way onto his face.

The man's eyes light up, "It's Joey here. Joey Wheeler. I knew you'd come back this time! I just knew it! Rich-boy owes me money!"

They both laugh, hugging and holding each other like long lost brothers. For the life of him, Bakura can't figure out why he's so happy, but he doesn't give a fuck. He can't remember the last time he felt like this.

"You two are giving me cavities," Weevil mutters behind them. "When you're done catching up with your boyfriend, Bakura, I would like to sleep in something that isn't a cell tonight."

Joey's jaw drops, "Bakura?"

"Yes," he answers.

"Bakura?"

"What?"

"Your name. He knows your name. I remember your name! But that's impossible. You gave it up," Joey looks panicked. "The three of you gave up your names and right to an afterlife when you sealed the Destroyer." He turns to Weevil, "How the hell do you know his name?!"

"He told it to us. He said that it was the only thing he knew. That, and the fact that he's twenty-one," the kid shrugs.

Joey gapes at Bakura again, "You know your name?!"

And Bakura tries to forget it, forget the lifelong battle that Ryou and the spirit of the Millennium Ring had against the beast in the pit. It had taken place in the few seconds between Ryou's first death and revival and in the end, as the creature was consumed by the shadows, it had named them both.

Bakura, it cried. Child of the moon and the night and the air. The master of Souls. The bloodborne survivor of Kul Elna.

"Yes," he answers. "I know my name."

Joey lets out a shaking sigh, "Fucking hell."

"Who am I?" He asks, begging for some kind of answer. Joey gripped his shoulder.

"It's a long story, Bakura."

Keith usually takes his coffee with milk. It's a habit he picked up young from his father, who made it the exact same way. It's not that he particularly likes it that way. If anything, he wishes he could do without the damn drink at all because it tastes like crap, in his opinion. But he needs the caffeine, so he sucks it up and drinks it.

However, there are some days when he takes it black. Pure, straight, liquid shit burning it's way down his throat. Keith only does this when he hits rock bottom and usually finishes the day by downing a bottle and a half of firewhiskey and waking up with a splitting hangover.

But as Keith stares down at the dark, murky depths of his coffee mug, he knows that there's not enough booze in the world to make this any better.

Ryou Andrews is dead. He'd died screaming at the hands of a mage weapon. There was no sign of the Millennium Ring amongst the pile of clothes that had been left behind when he turned to dust. Merlin, he could barely believe it himself and he could still feel the grit under his fingernails from where the bits of the kid that hadn't sailed off into the wind. Keith doesn't feel anything. Not sadness or guilt or hatred. He doesn't feel sick. He's just empty.

He hasn't slept in at least twenty-four hours. Keith tried eating a few hours ago, but only managed a few bites of a sandwich. He just sits at the table in the staff room, drinks his shit-tasting coffee, and wants to get drunk.

He doesn't do much more than blink when Tilla Mook puts a hand on his shoulder. She gives him a small smile and he tries to return it, but can't. He remembers Ryou and how he never looked happy and wonders if this is what he felt like. Keith understands now why he had tried to end it all. He'd hate to think like this all the time.

"They want you in the conference room," Mook says.

"Whatever they want, it can wait," he answers.

"No, this really can't. Bandit, come on. It was just a mage."

"Don't!" Keith snaps, "Don't you ever fucking say that again! He's not just a mage. He's so much more than that. You don't know...you don't...understand..."

His throat closes off as he feels his eyes starting to water. He doesn't dare let them fall. Not here. And not in from of Mook.

"The mage is dead, Bandit. And they need you in the conference room. Now," her face is cold and emotionless, her voice clipped. When she walks away, her heels click against the floor and her skirts swishing around her ankles.

Keith stares at his coffee one last time before he downs the last of it. It burns all the way down and settles in his stomach like a pool of acid. Then he stands up and makes his way to the boardroom.

The island is a single massive compound, almost as large as Hogwarts itself. Except, unlike the school with its moving staircases and the magic embedded in its walls, the buildings here are stone and mortar. Mages could feel magic and, in some cases, could reverse or change it. All the magic that the island has is the spells that make it Unplottable and shut down muggle technology.

The island has no name or code name. It's just the island. He never asks why. He does that a lot, it seems - not asking. Keith should begin questioning things. Like why the island has no name. Or why mages have to die.

The island serves as a base for the main headquarters for the Department of Mysteries. There were sections in almost every wizarding government, using their money to fund experiments with magic to discover its secrets. It was part of a deal that was made between the newly started Department and the International Confederation of Wizards when the first wizard born mage was discovered. Ariana Dumbledore changed the world and the world doesn't even know. Things had been found in the last hundred or so years since the Department's creation. And all of those secrets had been used in the war against mages.

The order to kill Ariana had been issued here. The first and second mage conversion had taken place here and Gilderoy Lockhart and Andromeda Black had become wand users. Keith himself had been trained here. The island is the centre of this war and now it would be remembered as Ryou's grave.

Keith knocks on the door to the conference room and announces his presence. A voice comes from the other side, "Enter."

He walks through the door and comes face-to-face with one of the leading men of the Department of Mysteries.

"Mr. Howard," Maximillion Pegasus smiles over a glass of wine. "Please, have a seat."

He waves a hand to the free seat beside him. There's no one else in the room.

Pegasus looks to be about ten years older than Keith. His salt and pepper hair is tied back at the base of his neck and his face looks like it's been carved into marble. The man is wearing a dark suit with a blood red tie. He gives off the feeling of power and entitlement. Keith rarely gets intimidated, but he is by this man. He doesn't know what that means.

"I thought that there was going to be others," Keith lowers himself into the chair.

"Bah, they bored me, so I sent them away. Such busybodies, always bickering and squabbling for one reason or another. They've never been out there in the field, so they don't understand," Pegasus takes a sip of wine. "Would you like a drink?"

"I-I'm sorry?"

"Would you like a drink?" He indicates to the dark bottle on the table, "It's from my own personal stores: an Elvish red from 1997. Quite good, if I say so myself."

"Sure. Why not?" Keith grumbles. Wine is not really his thing, but he's been planning on getting drunk tonight anyways. Might as well start now.

"Your record is impeccable, Mr. Howard. You are one of our best assets," Pegasus says as he pores Keith a glass. "How many hunts have you been on again? Twenty-two?"

"Twenty-four, sir."

"Ah, yes. Twenty-four. You know, most give up or retire after ten or twelve. And you've done nearly double that. Might I ask why?"

Keith takes a gulp of wine and thinks over his answer, "Honestly? Got nowhere else to go."

"You have far more than the average amount of O.W.L.s and N.E.W.T.s. Prior to beginning your service to the Department, you worked for the American Ministry of Magic where you stopped an assassination on the Minister herself. Surely there would be someone that would take you in - and gladly, too," Pegasus raises an eyebrow.

Keith doesn't answer. But that's all Pegasus needs to understand.

"Ah, I see. You stay because you like it."

Merlin, he's sick. He's so fucking sick. He can see it now, "Hi, I'm Keith Howard. My friends call me Bandit. And I kill kids for a living."

"Hmmm... A bit troubling, but nothing to scoff at. However, you last assignment...now that was more than a bit troubling," Pegasus tilts his head slightly as he looks over his glass.

He's been called in because of Ryou. Of course. The leader of the Department and the inventor of the mage conversion process would want to know what the hell happened last night.

"A mage able to survive the Millennium Ring is incredible. However, the boy did succumb to it, in the end, I suppose. And in such a spectacular way, as well. Doesn't it just send shivers down your spine to think that our enemies could have possessed such a power, say, had young Ryou Andrews ended up running away to San Francisco?" Pegasus' smile seems more threatening than comforting. Keith swallows hard. Did the man know that he'd tried to get Ryou to run away and live? No. It's impossible. Keith's Occlumency is top notch. He'd yet to meet someone who could penetrate his shields.

"Yes, it would have been quite...troubling. But that didn't happen," Keith looks at the red liquid in front of him.

"Here's to that then," the man raises his glass in a toast that Keith rushes to respond to, however reluctantly. "Do you have any idea what happened?"

"No, sir."

"Are you sure? You practically lived with the boy for five years. Surely, there must have been something."

Keith shakes his head, "No, sir. There was no indication that that would happen. No one expected this, least of all me."

"Odd then, that it would happen. However, out of such loss for us," and Keith remembers Willa Mette and Maico and the three children in St. Mungo's, "there has been unexpected fruit."

Keith frowns, "I don't follow."

"The Millennium Ring, Mr. Howard. It's gone," Pegasus talks to him as if he's a child.

"Gone?"

"Yes. Gone. Destroyed. After one thousand years of trying, finally, it has happened. And by a mage, of all people. I'm sure no one saw that coming," the man smirks.

"Oh. Right," of course. It's not about the life that was lost today. It's about the Ring. The fucking Millennium Ring and the fucking Thief King. It's about the war. No one cares about Ryou.

"Right," Pegasus nods sage-like. "Now, have you given any thought to your next assignment?"

Keith downs the rest of his glass, "No...not, really. A few days ago, I thought..."

"You thought that Ryou Andrews would be your ticket to early retirement."

He nods, jaw clenching. It seems like a ridiculous dream right now. How dare he have thought that he could use a young boy to ensure a spot on a beach at the end of a seven-year period. He's such a monster.

"You've been reassigned, Mr. Howard. For the foreseeable future, you're going to be reporting directly to me. I want you to compile a team that will be ready for deployment at a moment's notice and be prepared to enter incredibly hostile environments," Pegasus grins. "You said you liked killing mages. I'm going to give you the opportunity to do that again."

"Forgive me, sir, but it almost sounds as if you're...promoting me."

"I am," he says. "You brought in the thing that destroyed the Millennium Ring. That alone is enough to guarantee your position as the head of this team, not to mention a pay raise substantial enough for you to buy a small country. And we need you, Keith Howard. We need you to take back San Francisco."

Needless to say, this shocks the shit out of him.

"You're kidding me! Sir, that's suicide! The mages in that city are beyond anything we've ever seen before. Who knows what else they're hiding in there? For all we know, they could have a Millennium Item!"

"We have the Spellbook."

"And in the thousand years we've had the thing, we've managed to translate, what? Ten pages?" Keith runs a hand through his hair in frustration, "Sir, it's been three years. Why in the world is this happening now?"

The man locks his fingers together and rests his chin in his hands, "That's classified, Mr. Howard."

"If I'm going to be leading this team, I want to be completely in the know. No more being in the dark. No more not asking questions. Declassify it, or I walk."

It's an empty threat and they both know it. If this assignment is indeed as big as it seems then Keith honestly doubts that Pegasus would have any qualms against having some of his experimenters taking his brains out and reprogramming him to take whatever command he's given. It had happened before. He's seen the soulless corpses of those who had refused work before. Men like Pegasus worked them until they dropped.

But that's not the point. Pegasus knows that Keith knows this. So he's either going to be impressed that he said it at all or... if the man isn't when it would really matter. Keith isn't going to feel much as a walking corpse.

Then, suddenly, Pegasus smiles again, "Croquet."

A house elf cracks into existence beside its master. It's ugly and wrinkled, with wisps of hair on its head and upper lip. There's a dirty rag hanging around its waist.

"Master?" The elf croaks and Keith realizes it is male.

"Give Mr. Howard the Mutuo file."

"Of course, Master," the elf snaps its fingers and then hands him the series of papers that appear. Keith takes them wordlessly before flicking through them.

Pegasus sighs, "Do you know why we never did anything after the mages took that city?" He doesn't wait for Keith to answer, "To be honest, no one really gives a damn about San Francisco. It's a city of fags and liberals and whores. The only reason people even know about it is because of some bridge and an island prison. So when they took it, there was no reason to get it back. We decided to keep it quiet, but take no action because we never wanted the city in the first place."

"But then you found out about...this. Whatever this is," Keith mutters as he continues to read.

"Yes. Thankfully, the Confederation hasn't heard of this yet, but they haven't liked the fact that we kept San Francisco covered up. So they're pressuring the American Ministry to take action. I don't think I need to tell you how well us Americans would deal with the idea of unknowingly harbouring terrorists for three years. Thank Merlin that it isn't public knowledge yet. Could you imagine the reaction?"

Keith can. He doesn't like it. Except, he can understand how people would be angry at being kept in the dark.

"And then we found this," Pegasus points at the photo paperclipped to the third page in the file. It's a middle-aged man standing in a hotel lobby. The description on the back tells him that it's the Hilton Luxor Resort & Spa.

"Who is he?" Keith asks.

"Solomon Mutuo. Muggle - or, at least, we think he is. This was about twenty-five years ago, back when he worked on and off as an archaeologist - you know, a muggle historian that likes to dig in the dirt. Except, he had a nasty tendency for cracking mage tombs wide open. Needless to say, we kept tabs on him."

Pegasus points to the picture, "Twenty-five years ago, Mr. Mutuo took an interest in the tomb of the Lady Pharaoh - though, he didn't know it was her's or who she even was at the time. He planned to enter it and see what was inside. We set up two of our own to act as tour guides, under orders to kill him if worst came to worst. Our last communication with them told us that they had entered the tomb. We never heard anything from them and Solomon Mutuo dropped off the face of the earth. Naturally, we assumed they were all dead, just like the rest of those who have set foot in her tomb. That is...until three months ago."

Keith turns the page and reads the headline of a muggle newspaper written just over ten years ago: SFSU GIRL GENIUS - THE LIFE OF A PROTEGE.

The girl in the picture appears to be in her early teens with her long black hair (black like Ryou's and, damn it, that's a punch to the gut) spun into a series of dreadlocks. There's a thin scarf wrapped around her neck and a leather bag slung over her shoulders. Keith thinks that she's pretty in a soft way that makes you want to treat her like a china doll.

"Yuugi Mutuo," he mumbles as he reads the caption. "Daughter?"

"Granddaughter. They mention him in her family history about halfway through the article. Apparently, he's her 'inspiration,'" Pegasus says mockingly. "That, and Solomon Mutuo alive and well, living in San Francisco. He owns a comic book store, whatever that is."

"An IQ of 217... Got her first Ph. D. at seven years of age... Been working at the University of San Francisco since she was nine. Holy crap!" Keith is genuinely impressed. She's a freaking genius.

"Yes, Ms. Mutuo is quite awe-inspiring, for a bastard girl who has no idea who her father is. But she is not important. With this new information, the question is how did Solomon Mutuo survive the tomb of the Lady Pharaoh and did he take anything from its depths?"

"Let me guess. He did?"

"We sent in scouts and they came back, Mr. Howard. The traps were deactivated and the tomb emptied of its contents. Whatever Millenium Item was in there is missing."

Keith's fingers clench on the table, "But now that the Ring is gone, doesn't that mean the prophecy is useless. The Three Kings can't come back?"

"I don't know, Mr. Howard. But that doesn't change the fact that the mages in San Francisco have access to a Millennium Item with incredible, untapped, and unknown powers," Pegasus looks him dead in the eye. "We need to act now. They chose that city for a reason and we need to take it back before those creatures get any more of a foothold there. We should have taken care of this three years ago. Are you ready to serve?"

"No," Keith closes the file and looks the man dead in the eye.

"No?" Pegasus' smile takes on a false tint and a shiver runs down his spine.

"Well, not yet. I still have to tell the Andrews family what happened to their son. They deserve to know how he's 'been sent to the camp,' after all."

Pegasus relaxes, chuckling into his wine, "Of course, of course. You have twenty-four hours to brief them on the situation, Mr. Howard. And get a few hours sleep. You look like you could use it. I expect you to gather your team within the week. Good day."

Keith knows a dismissal when he hears it. He manages to make it out of the room and down the hallway before his knees give out and he breaks down crying. He's a fucking monster. Ryou's death means nothing in the end because he hasn't changed. He's still the same murder he was five years ago. He does it because it's his job and he has nowhere else to go and he fucking likes this.

"Where's the line, Keith? Where's the fucking line?" He says to himself, "Just because you think that you knew him made him different? What about the others? If you'd known the other twenty-four, would you have tried to save them, too?"

He thinks of the girl from Oklahoma who wore the Katy Perry t-shirt and the jean skirt. She must have had a family that never found out what happened to their daughter, friends who searched for weeks after her death for a sign. That girl had been so much more than just a mage and he'd condemned her for that. He'd watched her die with tears on her face and a plea on her lips. And then he'd gone out for drinks with his team afterwards. He'd picked up a hooker, fucked her behind the bar, and brought her home with him for round two. Keith hadn't cared that he'd been part of the murder of a fourteen-year-old girl.

What the fuck is wrong with him?

Hello all!

I'd like to thank those who reviewed for the last chapter: InsantiyByDefinition and Rita Mu.

Ryou Andrews and the Spirit of the Millennium Ring have combined to bring forth their true forth: Thief King Bakura! Rex, Weevil, and Rebecca have reached land and met up with Joey Wheeler, who is a total badass. Seriously, I needed someone awesome to be Bakura's second-in-commander back in the day and he kind of fits the bill. And yes, Rich-boy is referring to Kaiba, who we will meet next chapter.

We also get our first look at Yuugi. She's a total genius. I believe that whole Yugi (in canon) received the cunning and resourcefulness of Atem, Yugu received his raw intelligence. Yami, in the beginning, doesn't know how to play Duel Monsters - and how could he? He's been trapped in the Puzzle for thousands of years. He learned through Yugi. Everything he knows he learned from that boy. Which is why Yuugi is a genius here. That article was written years before the series began, so she'll be about 24 when she eventually shows up. And much like Ryou, she's going to be a bit different.

Keith is starting to questions everything he's ever known and Pegasus is not helping. The man is so damn manipulative in that scene that it's actually terrifying. That being said, I love writing him because he's such a scumbag. And the line where he's talking about Yuugi and dismisses her as being unimportant is so utterly powerful because Yuugi is literally the most important woman he's ever going to meet.

Until next time,

AlcatrazOutpatient