Red smears dominated the map, and Mokuba was no closer to his destination. The roads he followed herded him in a northeastern direction, drawing him away from his destination even as he moved toward it. He kept waiting for a hidden door, a narrow alley, anything to bring him around where he needed to be, but he received no such gift. This isn't fair, he thought as he slumped against a brick wall. If the town wouldn't play along, how could he possibly hope to do what needed to be done? This place had him at the end of his rope! Only one more street and he'd be at the edge of the map. He had to be close now, right?

The narrow street opened on a much wider, perpendicular one. One that ran left until it disappeared into the fog a yard or two beyond his position. Mokuba grinned and took off running, desperation and a sort of mad hope propelling him forward. Yes! Yes, yes, yes- No… He slowed to a stop as yet another rusted wall materialized through the mist. This had to be wrong. He pulled out the map and drew in the new barrier. The barrier effectively finished cutting him off from the whole west side of town.

"No…" he whispered out loud this time. It was all a big tease to rub his predicament in his face, wasn't it? The town had him trapped and it wasn't ever going to let him leave. It kept him barely alive enough to prolong its demented amusements, but it possessed no intention of helping him flee. This torture wouldn't stop until a monster killed him, or his body finally ran down from stress and lack of nutrition. Of course if the isolation and constant twilight drove him completely insane first, none of that would matter.

And most of all, no more Seto. Indigo eyes widened at a sudden realization. Mokuba's focus on staying alive and saving himself had overshadowed his thoughts regarding what the older Kaiba must be going through right now. What would happen to Seto if Mokuba disappeared forever? His big brother would be all alone, too, robbed of the last person in his life that he could still love and trust. The last person who still loved Seto in return.

The kid's face squinched up. His jaw tightened. His fists clenched and shook. Then he screamed in frustration and threw himself at the wall. "Let me out of here! Just let me the hell out!" He swung the bat and struck the wall with a loud clang. "What do you want from me? This isn't fair!" He attacked the barrier as though he could break through it himself. "I." Clang! "Hate." Clang! "This." Clang! "Place!"

Gradually his tantrum petered out into gasping breaths and the dying echoes of metal on metal. "I'm so sick of this. Just let me out. I'll do anything I have to." His forehead pressed to the cold, scratchy rust. "My brother doesn't have anyone else. He needs me. Please, let me go home." Mokuba closed his eyes, continuing to plead under his breath; unsure of what he hoped would happen. Maybe the spirit of the town would hear his pleas and be reasonable. Of course the next thing he heard still didn't surprise him: the clattering sound of every bladed monstrosity within earshot closing in on his position.

He twisted slowly around, peering through his matted hair at the ragged silhouettes of about a dozen monsters stumbling up the street. More joined them along the way, appearing from side streets and broken shop windows, but it didn't frighten Mokuba anymore. The anger and desperation had burned the terror out of him, leaving him with nothing but a sense of bored calm.

Time slowed as he watched the approaching hoard. Standing with his side to the impossibly high wall, in the middle of an empty street, Mokuba shoved the map into his pocket, planted his feet shoulder width apart, and cocked the bat over his shoulder. One, two, three, four… He swung with a force that sent the closest creature sprawling. A smug sense of satisfaction filled the boy's heart. Turning a steely gaze to his next opponent, he rushed the monsters, swinging wildly and viciously to clear a path down the middle of the crowd.

On the other side, he faltered to glance over his shoulder. Many of the creatures broke into blind skirmishes, squabbling bloodily amongst themselves. The four closest to Mokuba, however, managed to break off and maintain their pursuit. He decided to press for a little more distance before fighting them. Maybe he could split them up, or confuse them enough to circle around behind. That was his plan, until he heard a rhythmic, wet, slapping noise in the fog ahead of him. Something dark and unwelcomingly familiar leaped like a frog and landed on all fours close enough for him to see the sheen of its rubbery skin. Unblinking yellow eyes locked on him as two more landed on either side of it. Unable to reverse his direction, what with the other monsters too close behind him, Mokuba froze instead. The new enemies were more difficult to escape, but easy to kill. With something sharp, he could take out each one in a single jab.

Once more, time crawled as his eyes darted over his shoulder. Then they returned to the line of hoppers in front of him. Their hindquarters tensed and the boy crouched in anticipation of their attack. If even one of them managed to snag him with its sticky hand, everything would end here. He'd be simultaneously crushed and stabbed to death. They leaped in unison. Mokuba hit the dirt and watched the trio sail toward the bladed beasts behind him.

The first hopper collided with the closest slasher and clung to the front of it with all of its might. The blind creature stumbled and almost fell, dazed and confused by the sudden attack. Unfortunately, the last hoppers fell short of their targets and began to turn around. Mokuba's eyes went wide and he almost jumped up to face them head on. Then the hoppers screamed as bladed feet drove into them from behind. Due to Mokuba's lack of movement and the proximity of the newer sounds, the strange group of monsters turned on each other just as the other group had. They're thick as bricks, Mokuba thought, surprised, but no less grateful for the advantage.