I kind of cheated a bit, here. Tweaked things to my own liking simply because I can. And actually, come to think of it, a perfectly logical reason for my ability to do that will make itself known as the plot goes on. In any case, enjoy yourselves, Constant Readers (I think I stole that from Stephen King), and always remember that I love to hear what you think of things, good or bad. But if you do have criticism, do please keep in mind my rather restrictive time frame when it came to the crafting of this work. Not to say it's an excuse...just...you know. Keep it in mind.

XV:

Menkaura

"Men...Menkaura?" Mokuba asked, sniffling, turning to face the spirit. "Who...who's Menkaura?"

Sethos blinked, frowning as though confused at the question. He looked around himself, looking lost, before settling his gaze onto his own, upturned hands.

"Menkaura..." Yami repeated. "That's...that's your brother...isn't it, Sethos?"

The spirit took a long time in answering.

"...Yes."

"Your Mokuba," Noa said quietly, contemplatively.

Sethos nodded.

"Menkaura," Bakura murmured, settling into a sitting position and seeming to ignore what had just occurred for the sake of whatever shred of sanity he had left. "That name...it sounds familiar."

"It does..." Seto muttered. "I've heard that name before."

"It may be due to your connection to Sethos that you remember it," Yami offered.

"Wait, wait, wait!" Téa blurted. "Hold on! Before we start going in on Kaiba's family tree, could someone explain to me what just happened?"

"Yeah," Joey said, scratching his head. "Sum'n' ain't right, here."

"Seriously," Tristan added.

"What?" Yami asked.

"Well, one minute Bakura's going nutzoid and got a knife to Mokuba's throat," Tristan said, "and before we can blink, Bakura's on the ground and Mokuba's running at Kaiba like a frickin' track runner!"

"Yeah, what the hell?" Joey said. "S'like we skipped somethin' er...like a video wi' some film missin'. Just...blam!"

Téa nodded.

Yami blinked, confused. "You...didn't see that?"

"See what?"

Noa frowned. "You're...kidding, right? Seriously, you're kidding. How could you not see that?!"

"What?!" all three demanded at once.

"The man who called himself Thirak, the king of thieves..." Sethos said, "...no longer exists. The spirit of the Millennium Ring is dead."

.

Seto drowned out the sound of Gardner, Taylor, and Wheeler spouting off question after question; he drowned out the sound of Ryou Bakura's bleating repetitions of thanks as he realized that he was finally free from the Millennium Ring's malignant choke-hold.

He continued to keep a tight hold on his brother as Mokuba calmed down, mind whirling furiously as he struggled to reconcile not only what had just happened, but why and where from he knew the name Menkaura so well.

The name wasn't familiar in a personal sense, like Mokuba's was. He knew beyond a shadow of doubt that he had not known Menkaura personally. It was not as Yami had predicted. It couldn't be.

Seto Kaiba had an eidetic memory. He could recall nearly everything he had ever seen, read, or heard in a matter of moments. It was one of his most prominent skills, and a huge factor in his ability to maintain his career.

It should not have been so difficult to remember a simple name.

His mind was scrambled. It was like walking on a normal, straight sidewalk and blinking, only to find a labyrinth had replaced it.

Seto closed his eyes and bent his entire concentration on remembering the name. He focused on it, whispered it in his mind, mouthed it silently, brow furrowing in frustration.

Finally, after being still and silent long enough for Mokuba to ask him what was wrong, he had it. Like any number of things people struggled to remember, he felt a fool for not realizing it sooner.

He opened his eyes and looked at Sethos.

"I remember."

XVI:

Line of Succession

"What? What do you remember?" Sethos asked.

"Menkaura. Mycerinus in Latin. Mykerinos in Greek."

"...What?"

"He was pharaoh of Egypt during a period between 2532 BC to 2504 BC. It's unknown for certain. He ordered the construction of the smallest pyramid at Giza. His queen was Khamerernetby II; succeeded by Shepseskaf. One of the last pharaohs of the Fourth Dynasty."

Sethos blinked. "...Pharaoh?"

"His name...'Long last the vital forces of Ra.'"

All eyes were locked on him.

"Where...since when do you study Egyptian history?" Tristan asked, dumbfounded.

Seto didn't answer.

Sethos's eyes were wide and feverish. "You...you say that...my Menkaura took the throne?"

"Yes."

An expression of such euphoria passed over the spirit's face that Seto felt a smile tug at his own lips. He imagined Mokuba one day succeeding him as the owner of his company and the smile came full-force.

That was how Sethos must have felt...except multiplied over many, many times.

Yami, too, seemed pleased to hear this. He grinned widely.

"That's pretty cool..." Téa said.

"Yeah. Awesome." Joey grinned and flashed Mokuba a thumbs-up. "Hear that, kid? You were a king."

Mokuba finally pushed away from his brother and sat up straight. He looked around at the group, each of them looking at him, and fidgeted.

"Uh...I...that..."

Seto chuckled.

"Don't worry, kid," Noa put in. "Don't mean ya gotta get up 'n give a speech or something. Just...cool thought, huh? Your last incarnation was a pharaoh."

Mokuba smiled slightly at that and, upon looking back up at Seto, whose calm, affectionate smile showed his pride at the idea, grinned broadly.

"Hey..."

.

Bakura sat cross-legged on the floor, the Millennium Ring in both hands resting in his lap. He was studying it intensely, lifting it every so often and glancing up at Yami as if expecting something to happen.

"Problem, Bakura?" Joey asked.

"Yes," the white-haired teen said, confused. "My...my ring isn't...isn't working anymore. It usually reacts to nearby Millennium Items, but...but it isn't, anymore. I don't...feel anything. It's...it's like it's...dead."

"Thirak engaged in our...contest with the intent to take the Millennium Rod from its destined owner," Sethos said. "By doing so, he placed his own upon the gambling table. The Ring has acknowledged its new wielder. It no longer reacts to your touch."

Bakura blinked, clearly not expecting that answer. "Then...then it is yours?"

"No," Sethos said. "My time of true influence in this world ended long ago. The Millennium Ring now belongs to my successor. Seto."

Seto raised an eyebrow. "Oh, wonderful. Again with the 'collect the seven items' kick. I never remembered agreeing to this escapade of yours."

Bakura stood and reached into his pocket.

He fished out another golden item, a small orb.

The Millennium Eye.

"The spirit of the Ring won this, as well," Bakura said. "I feel nothing from it, either. They must both be yours, Kaiba."

He walked over and held out both golden artifacts.

Gingerly, rolling his eyes at the absurdity of the affair, Seto reached out and accepted them.

At his touch, both items began to hum with energy, the eyes glowing a faint gold.

"You now possess three of the seven Millennium Items, my successor," Sethos said. "Four remain on your path."

"Eh?" Joey asked. "Four remain on what path? The hell?"

"You mean..." Yami whispered.

"You have again forgotten your history, Cousin," Sethos said. "As I have told him and his family already...it is Seto's destiny not to conflict with your path to virtue...but to enter onto his own."

Yami bit his lower lip, cradling the Millennium Puzzle in both hands.

"Your reign as pharaoh has ended, Atem-Ra. Seto's...is about to begin."

XVII:

The Gift of Rebirth

This time, there was no shocked outcry.

Téa, Joey, and Tristan were stunned speechless.

Seto stood up and smoothed his suit jacket. "Yes," he said in a bored, uninspired mockery of a flourish, "as it turns out, I am to be your king. All will bow before me and revel in my ultimate magnificence, while I dispense judgment and favor at my whim."

He rolled his eyes.

Sethos smirked. "You and your stepbrother are more alike than is readily apparent, successor."

"I'd take that as a compliment if it weren't such an insult," Seto muttered.

"Hey!" Noa cried, scowling. "I have feelings, y'know!"

"Knowing does not equate to caring."

"Tch."

"Niisama, stop."

"Ngh."

Yami continued to hold his puzzle, rotating it in his hands, studying the pieces and tracing the edges with his fingers. "I'm not sure why...but I believe you. I...I trust you. I have one question."

Sethos raised an eyebrow. "Yes, Cousin?"

Yami looked up, and his eyes were apprehensive. "...If I relinquish the Puzzle to Kaiba, will I not...cease to exist?"

Téa gasped. "No! You can't do that, Kaiba!"

"Don't rope me into this," Seto snapped. "I had nothing to do with this scheme. Talk to that one."

"You can't—"

"Wait," Sethos said, holding up a hand. "Before you begin begging, allow me to answer my cousin's question."

Yami bit his lip again.

"I see you have formed a bond with these people," Sethos observed, "as well as with your successor. You wish not to leave them. I will not, I cannot, fault you for that."

He smiled.

"My power is tied to the Millennium Rod, but if it were to pass to another wielder, I would not lose this consciousness. Nor would you. You require only to find a corporeal form, much as what I created when I wakened earlier this day."

"But...I don't...I have no idea how to do that."

Sethos's smile widened. "You need not know. Allow me."

.

"Three. A pivotal number. Three is at the center. The pinnacle. The heart, the mind, the soul. Here lie the Millennium Eye, the Millennium Ring, and the Millennium Rod."

Sethos held out his hands, palms down, over the three artifacts. His eyes slid closed, and his body went stiff. His hands, as well as the Eyes of Horus, began to glow.

He remained still, energy fluctuating in strength as it channeled into the three items, for several minutes.

A sudden crash caused those watching to jump as bolts of lightning shot from Sethos's palms down to the items, branching out to each, and culminating to a single point, slamming into the Millennium Puzzle.

Like the picture of an old television smacked on its side, Yami's form seemed to split in two. When the distortion passed, though, the truth of what had happened was apparent.

Yugi stood beside the chair.

Yami sat to his right.

Sethos's eyes opened again, and he smiled serenely. "It is done," he said. "Through these three Items, you have been granted rebirth. Embrace it well, Cousin, as..."

The spirit's words slurred, and his eyes fluttered.

He collapsed, unconscious, to the ground.

XVIII:

There's a Ghost in the House

"Uh...that probably wasn't s'posed to happen," Noa guessed.

Yami, nearly overwhelmed, stared down at himself, rubbing his arms, flexing his fingers, touching his face. He looked at Yugi, who stared openly at him, and at each of his friends.

It looked as though he were about to cry.

"T-Thank you..." he whispered, voice catching in his throat. "Thank you..."

"I don't believe he can hear you," Seto muttered.

Noa nudged the spirit with one shoe. "He's out cold. Gee, I wonder if making a human body is draining. Whaddaya think, Aniki?"

"Tch." Seto rolled his eyes. "It has been done before, if you recall."

"Yeah, but I think Yami, there, had more than a bit to do with why your little experiment with my body worked so well."

"Results, Noa. All that matters."

"Right. Sure. 'Course."

Noa nudged Sethos's unconscious form again.

"...Anybody got a marker? I wanna give 'im a mustache."

.

Solomon Motou came back into the shop.

"What was that sound?" he asked. "I thought I heard a crash. Joseph, did you blow up the microwave again?"

"No way, Gramps!" Joey said hurriedly, holding up his hands. "I learned m' lesson! Seriously!"

Solomon narrowed his eyes. "Mm-hm..."

He looked down and saw Sethos on the floor. "...Did you let him have some of my saké or was he just tired?"

"No, no alcohol," Noa said, "although...that does sound like a good idea..."

"Four months, Noa," Seto admonished.

"Oh, loosen up, Dad. S'not like people actually care about that anymore."

"Well, in that case, why don't you find some cocaine, too? We'll let Mokuba sprinkle it on his cereal in the morning."

"Why not? Sounds like a recipe for fun to me. Don't s'pose you got any, do you, Aniki?"

"Shut up and get him on the couch, would you?"

"Oh, fine," Noa grunted, walking over to Sethos. "Yo, Joe, mind givin' me a hand here?"

Joey grabbed Sethos's ankles, Noa grabbed his arms, and they carried him over to the nearby sofa.

"So...what happened to him?" Solomon asked again.

"Stroke," Seto answered quickly.

"Uh..." Yugi began, frowning curiously as he tried to think of how to explain what had happened, "...well...he...helped us with something."

"Well, it certainly must have been exhaust—Who are you?"

Yami smiled. "I am Yami, Mister Motou," he said, raising a hand. "The...spirit of the puzzle you gave to your grandson."

Solomon scrunched up his face. He blinked. Then, "...Oh? Is that so?"

"Remember, Grandpa? You told me about him when you gave me the puzzle. He's real. And Sethos, there," here he gestured to the sofa, "helped to...make him a body."

Solomon actually nodded. "I see. I do remember something about a spirit in the puzzle...he certainly looks like you, doesn't he, Yugi?"

"Mm-hm," Yugi said, nodding in turn.

"This is all very surreal," Seto said suddenly, "and I appreciate you all perpetuating the complete ruination of my mind, but I do believe I'm going to leave now. Hopefully when I wake up I'll realize that none of this has happened and I'll be able to go on believing that the world makes any sense at all."

He turned to look at Noa. "Bring him out here."

Noa rolled his eyes and slumped his shoulders as he walked over to the sofa again and set about picking Sethos up again. As he struggled with the deadweight, every so often muttering a curse, he looked around.

"So...how 'bout that marker, huh?"