To paraphrase Louise Rosenblatt, "a story's just ink on a page until a reader comes along to give it life." This in my way of saying, I'd really like to know what you think, and appreciate all reviews.

CHAPTER 10: INVASION OF CHAOS

Could anyone have longed for adventure more fervently than Luke Skywalker? And yet when it was offered to him on a silver platter – or at least by a durasteel plated droid – his first thought was of the chores he'd left undone and the uncle waiting impatiently for him back home.

Perhaps though, unadventurous as it sounds, looking before leaping isn't bad advice, even for fictional characters. As so many of them discover, looking after you leap just doesn't have the same effect.

And even the most pure-heartedly enthusiastic of heroes can find that what started as a simple mission to save the world has somehow, inexplicably, morphed into a more personal quest as well.

YUGI'S NARRATIVE

One minute Kaiba was standing next to me, the next he was gone. It wasn't like there'd been a flash of light; I hadn't even blinked. I flailed out as if I was blind. I wasn't though. I could see everything but Kaiba.

"Kaiba!" I yelled.

There was no answer. I was alone.

I remembered Yami saying that the game changed settings and devised challenges based on our thoughts, moods… and fears. I knew what mine were, even before I saw the Multiply Slime.

He was bigger than I thought, or maybe it was that the landscape had changed to match him. I was standing on a flat stone now, barely big enough for my feet. The grass and weeds had suddenly dissolved into mud. It was so easy to imagine falling… being sucked under. Multiply Slime seemed to be a part of the muck. It made him bigger and more threatening.

There was just one Multiply Slime now, but that wouldn't last. There'd be more. Just like doubts and insecurities they'd come in a horde. Immediately, as if in agreement, three more of the monsters appeared. They crept along, blending into the ooze. They moved so slowly I had plenty of time to think.

Multiply Slime wouldn't even need any weapons, not that I'd ever learned how to defend myself anyway. All they'd have to do was swarm over me, burying me alive as I lay trapped beneath their mass, suffocating and helpless as they pressed me into the mud. I swallowed, watching them come closer, as if I was already short of air, too lightheaded to think clearly.

I was alone just like before… this weakling that everyone picked on, who couldn't do anything but bawl his eyes out every time someone said something mean or pushed him around. I wasn't surprised Kaiba had vanished. He had no place in this battle. I bet he'd never cried in his life – and he'd had a lot more to cry about. I was the one whose eyes leaked like a faucet, no matter how hard I tried to be a man. Yami had been telling me for years now that I was the strongest person he knew. Anzu kept telling me I'd changed, that I'd grown up. Right now, I wasn't sure I believed either of them, or if I ever had.

I could see flashes like a lightning storm in the distance. With each one, a Multiply Slime disappeared and three Slime Monster Tokens appeared in its place, as if they were regenerating and multiplying just like they were programmed to do when under attack. The Slime Monster Tokens were white as ghosts, but you could see they were solid. Mud spilled out of their open mouths and leaked out of the corners of their eyes. They were even yuckier than the Multiply Slime they replaced – and that took some doing. I tried to marshal my thoughts, but their slow approach was hypnotizing.

I heard an echo of Jounouchi's voice, as if he was in the hallway outside our classroom, talking to Honda.

"Yugi's such a sissy. I knew it wouldn't take much to get him to cry. Let's have some fun with the wimp."

I gasped. It was like someone had just thrown a glass of ice water in my face, startling me awake. Jounouchi had said that once. But he'd changed. I'd changed. I just had to remember that.

The Slime Monster Tokens were still moving slowly. But they kept coming. I took a deep breath, grateful to feel my lungs fill with air. I'd often wondered how I'd do without Yami… who I'd be if he left me on my own again. I tried to match Yami's confident posture. I was going to make Yami proud, show him that I'd taken all his lessons to heart. I was small, but I was going to stand up for myself and my friends. I thought about the cards I'd selected back in Kaiba's computer room for the first challenge. I summoned Giant Trap Hole to swallow the monsters up.

Nothing happened, except that the Slime Monster Tokens slithered even closer, their ghostly forms trailing mud. I could almost taste the muck, feel it slip behind my mouth, as I tried to gasp for air. I swallowed again, relieved to taste only saliva in my throat.

I wasn't going to panic. This was my game. It was time to play. My trap card didn't work. That probably meant that even though I couldn't see him, Jinzo was here somewhere, and I didn't have a monster powerful enough to destroy him.

I did have one thing though – a partner. Kaiba was here somewhere. If I could rip away Jinzo's invisibility, Kaiba would take him out, even if he had to cut him to pieces with that katana of his. The Slime Monster Tokens were almost on me, I imagined them creeping up my legs.

But thinking of Kaiba reminded me I had an inventory too. I didn't have a katana; I wouldn't know how to use one. I'd never gone in for fighting games, and even in role playing ones, I'd been a healer when given the choice. I grinned. I might not be able to kill them, but I had plenty of stuff in my inventory that could put those Slime Monster Tokens to sleep. I called up poppy syrup and a spray gun and canister along with a gas mask to protect myself. The poppies reminded me of watching "The Wizard of Oz" with Ji-chan. I could almost hear him telling me that the flying monkeys couldn't hurt me. I hoped the same was true for slime monsters. I pulled the trigger on the spray gun. Instantly, the Slime Monster Tokens dropped to the ground. A moment later they started snoring. I had until they woke up to figure out a way out of this mess.

Jinzo had to be out there somewhere, probably hidden by a Spell Card, since his presence meant Trap Cards wouldn't work. I thought about the lightning flashes, about how a Multiply Slime had disappeared and been replaced by three Slime Monster Tokens with each one. Defender Jam could do that, but only if it was being attacked. Kaiba was probably out there firing blindly at an enemy he couldn't see. I was just glad he'd stopped before he'd created an army.

Our hidden fears are the scariest. Facing them makes us stronger. If I could bring Jinzo into the light, we'd win. Briefly I thought about the new card Yami had told me about, Light of Truth, Light of Hope. That's what we needed now. But it hadn't been released yet, much less uploaded here. Well, if courage wasn't going to come shining down from the sky, I'd have to work with what I had right here… and quickly. The Slime Monster Tokens were starting to stir.

As they got up though, they started heading in the opposite direction, as if being pulled by a magnet. I summoned Respect Play. It meant revealing my cards. It probably meant revealing how scared I was, how unsure that I'd measure up. But the game knew that already, since it had tried to trap me with my own doubts. And Respect Play meant I'd get to see what I was facing.

Instantly Jinzo was revealed. Kaiba's Blue Eyes White Dragon reared up behind him. I could see Kaiba caught in a tangle of thorns. It looked like the Spell Card, Curse of Thorns, except unlike the helpless victim on the card, Kaiba had an axe in his hand. Predictably he ignored the thorns pulling at him as he called on his dragon to attack. Maybe he was right, because destroying Jinzo made it easy for Kaiba to call in a trap card to free himself. The Blue Eyes White Dragon turned his attention on the Slime Monster Tokens next. They were easy to take out, and without a Multiply Slime backing them up, they couldn't return. I should have seen that myself, except I'd been distracted by my own doubts. That had been my real enemy, not these pathetic slime monsters that were dissolving back into the ground. They'd been as weak as my fears.

I stared at them in shock. Was it possible that despite Gozaburo and whatever other bad guys were in here, the game itself wasn't my enemy, either? Jinzo hadn't had any doubts or uncertainties – but that was because he was soulless, inhuman. Maybe there are worse things to be than unsure.

The ground was solidifying once again, turning into a field, complete with wildflowers and trees. It smelled like spring. Kaiba walked up to me as if he'd never disappeared, as if I hadn't just fought a battle all on my own… except now that I thought of it, I hadn't been alone. Kaiba had been there the whole time, and it had felt like Yami and even Anzu and Jounouchi had been with me, helping me when I needed them the most. I stared at my hand as if I could still see my share of the circle Anzu had drawn there in magic marker way back when we'd all first become friends.

Kaiba's arms and face were scratched; his sleeve was ripped. I told him everything that had gone on while we'd been separated then asked, "What happened to you?"

He looked at me a moment, clearly weighing something in his mind before saying, "You're right. It makes sense to pool our information."

I hadn't thought of it like that, but before I could figure out what to say he added, "You disappeared. There was a thicket of thorns right where you'd been, as if it was mocking my promise to keep you safe. I didn't even bother with my duel monsters at first; I just called in an axe and started hacking. But they grew faster than I could cut them down, and the more I fought the more they closed in on me, surrounding me just like in Curse of Thorns."

I nodded.

"I tried Solemn Judgment, to get rid of them," he continued. "Since my Trap Card didn't work, I figured that meant, even if he was invisible, Jinzo was there. So I called up my Blue Eyes White Dragon and started blasting. Nothing happened." He looked at the slimy mess at our feet. "That's when I started to wonder if it made sense, taking shots at an opponent I couldn't even see." He frowned. "I've done that often enough in my life. I figured with this, I could at least face my enemies. I didn't expect it to work." He slipped the Ring of Magnetism off his hand; it had served its purpose, redirecting the Slime Monster Tokens from me to him.

"I felt the same way. Weird, huh?" I said, realizing that we'd just saved each other's lives. "We were working together, even though we didn't know it. It took both our cards to defeat Jinzo."

I thought for a moment. Kaiba probably wouldn't understand, but I needed to say this to somebody, and he was the only one here. "Yami was right. I'm not a duelist just because of him. I'm not any of the mean things people called me. I'm not a coward, and as for being a crybaby – well, I can cry and duel at the same time. I understand this game better now. I didn't beat my enemies; I beat myself and my own fears."

I'd been so scared since we arrived. Now I knew we'd be fine, that we... no, that I could handle anything this game threw at me. I laughed, just because I was that relieved. Kaiba stared at me. I think he was trying to figure out whether or not I'd snapped, but he didn't say anything.

"It really is an amazing game, Kaiba," I added.

Kaiba kept staring. "That came through?" he asked. "That part of it… forcing myself to trust, to believe that things would work out, even if it went against the grain, went against everything I'd been taught… that felt like my game, like nothing had changed. But…" He paused, then said, "Did you hear voices in the wind saying stuff while we were separated?"

I nodded. "I heard Jounouchi and Honda talking about me… you know the way they did before we were friends."

He snorted. "You might as well listen to a couple of dogs barking or monkeys screeching as those two."

I opened my mouth to defend them, then realized… for once Kaiba's insults hadn't been delivered on auto-pilot.

"Why would you pay attention to idiots like them, anyway?" he went on irritably.

"They're not idiots," I said.

"They are if they think you're not a duelist."

I wondered if in his own way, Kaiba was annoyed on my behalf. It was a startling idea.

"Besides, people change," I said. "Wasn't that the point of this whole game?"

"Assuming I wasn't on a fool's quest from the beginning," he said bitterly.

"You weren't," I insisted.

"Is this game about change, or does it define change's limits?" he demanded.

I had no idea what he was talking about, not that Kaiba was waiting for an answer anyway… not from me, at least. He turned away, scanned the horizon again and frowned. "I'm not sure how long we have before another attack starts."

"Is there a limit on how much free time we have before the next challenge?" I asked.

"There was. I removed it. But I'm not sure what's been altered. I still have to find a way to access the coding," he explained.

That sounded so unlike Kaiba I couldn't help asking, "You removed the time limit? You wanted fewer attacks? Why?"

Kaiba's frown deepened to a scowl. "I decided the game would work better that way." He paused again. I remembered him saying over and over that revealing yourself was a weakness. There was something he didn't want to tell me, but clearly holding out on me didn't sit well either. I waited. I knew Kaiba well enough to know what his decision would be. It was sometimes difficult to recognize, but by his own lights, Kaiba always played fair.

"I took out the time limit because sometimes stuff would happen and I wanted to think about it… figure out what it meant. I couldn't do that if monsters kept attacking."

"Like us now," I pointed out.

He glanced at me, then nodded. It was only as we started walking again that I realized Kaiba hadn't told me what his voices had been saying.

KAIBA'S NARRATIVE

We started heading after Mokuba again, but I stopped short. I've never believed in hunches – not unless they were backed up by cold, hard facts. But instincts are a slightly different matter, and mine were screaming that I was about to walk away from something big, something that could help us survive.

I hadn't tried accessing the program since we'd arrived. The last thing I wanted was another reminder that I couldn't control anything – my own temper most of all. After Death-T, I'd sworn to myself I'd never get mad at Mokuba again. Since then, every time I'd felt the first spark of anger kindling, it had been drowned in a wave of shame before it could ignite.

Until today.

I had to find a way to regain control… of my game… of myself. I looked at Yugi and remembered Yami telling me that anger and impatience were my enemies. I'd created this game to find a way to beat them, but nothing had gone according to plan. It was as if I was still in that damn thicket of thorns; I could feel them tearing at me the harder I struggled to fight my way clear. For once I wished the Wicked Worm Beast would show up just so I'd have something to kill, but like everything else here, he went by his schedule, not mine.

There had to be a way out. I hadn't expected Ring of Magnetism to work, but it had. I hadn't expected Yugi to be there helping, but he was. There was a pattern here. Maybe it was time to push the edge of the envelope a little further.

"Unhide Codes!" I shouted. It was a long shot and I knew it. There was no reason to think this time would be different than any of the other times I'd tried, but the lines of coding showed up in all their glory. I could get a good look at just how much damage had been done.

"Undo all edits made less than 240 hours ago," I ordered, but I wasn't surprised when nothing happened. I tried a dozen variations then settled down to study the program. As I'd expected the safety system had been trashed and I couldn't restore it. The game was set on lethal levels. I couldn't change that either. All the alterations were set in stone – even the ones that weren't actual hieroglyphs. Seeing them got me pissed off all over again, as if I wasn't at the boiling point already.

"Damn. What's the point of showing me the program if I can't change anything? They're just trying to fuck with my head and it's not going to work!" I yelled.

I was about to hide the lines of code again so I wouldn't have to see them mocking me. It was just like Gozaburo to rub it in that whatever I did, he was always going to be in my way, stopping me whenever I tried to move on with my life. But Yugi distracted me.

"I don't think that's why it's here. You asked to see your program, remember?" he said.

"We won a challenge," I said thoughtfully.

"Yeah. And it's your game. I can't believe winning doesn't count for something."

I wondered just what I'd won. What I wanted more than anything, except Mokuba's safety, was a way to take my game back.

I stared at the codes surrounding me. I couldn't undo any of Gozaburo's changes. That was hardly news. Gozaburo had said as much when he'd been in my mind; he hadn't been able to resist rubbing it in. "You keep trying to erase the anger, bitterness, and hatred I've branded into your heart – but you can't, and you never will."

The need to prove I was different from him had been the thing to push me into asking Yami and Yugi for help. Gozaburo would never have done it, would never have put his soul into someone else's hands. Bitter as it was, I could. And yet Gozaburo had been right as well. Every time I thought of that moment, I cringed. I wanted to destroy something to take away the shame of branding myself the weaker man.

I swallowed and looked at my program, frowning. Maybe the answer was in the coding right in front of my face. I couldn't delete Gozaburo's changes to my game, any more than I'd ever been able to erase his influence on my life as if he'd never existed – but that didn't mean I'd been defeated. It never had and it never would. I couldn't undo Gozaburo's revised coding, but maybe I could work my way around it, incorporate it into a new design that would take me where I wanted to go. It was the one thing I'd never tried.

And it would be a victory worth fighting for.

I tried to think of what to add, what would help us, and more importantly Mokuba, survive until we could win.

I remembered my latest encounter with Gozaburo, how he'd waited, gloatingly, for me to fall asleep. It'd been the first time I'd finally outlasted him – or lasted long enough for Yami to arrive. Until that moment, sleep had been the one game I'd always lost.

Not completely, of course. By the end of my five year association with Gozaburo, I'd learned to doze in five minute increments, to sleep so lightly that the sound of footsteps in the hall outside my room would snap me awake instantly. But it had taken years to develop the knack, and right from that first night at the mansion, Mokuba had come to visit when he figured everyone else would be snoring away. It didn't take him too many days to notice how tired I was. He offered to be my lookout. I'd agreed. I don't know why I did anything so stupid, except that sleep deprivation affects judgment. Eventually we'd gotten caught. Big surprise. Gozaburo could move quietly for such a big man.

Luckily Gozaburo ignored Mokuba as always. The old bastard had simply forced me to continue studying while he held my head up with his riding crop, the whip end under my jawline like a promise, and waited for the sag of my head to betray the fact I'd nodded off. All I could do was hope Mokuba would stay quiet and try to outlast the son of a bitch. It hadn't worked, of course. Gozaburo had stacked the cards in his favor; I hadn't been able to come up with an answering move.

I remembered Mokuba's face as he'd watched Gozaburo bring down the riding crop across my back. I've never felt more defenseless before or since, watching my own helplessness reflected back at me from Mokuba's eyes.

It had taken me years, but here in a virtual world, long after the old bastard's death and attempted resurrection, I'd finally figured out a counter strategy. The game could recognize brain waves. I couldn't change what was written, but I could add the commands that would make sure the game couldn't start a challenge while we were sleeping. I smiled in satisfaction as the additional lines of code appeared before my eyes, then were slotted into place, confirmed and saved. But as I reviewed the revised section I realized that it didn't go far enough.

I thought of those weapons I'd designed. It hadn't been merely a lack of sleep; it had been that kind of bone weariness that left everything in a haze. Being afraid to sleep was a weakness in and of itself. I could fix that too. The game could also recognize body language. I added commands so it couldn't launch an attack while we were lying down, making that moment when your mind starts to drift off a little less vulnerable.

Gozaburo had never laid a hand on Mokuba, but I hadn't been able to keep him safe either, not really. He'd seen too much. He'd been my accomplice too often. Here, at least, I wanted Mokuba to know I could protect him.

"Changes completed," the computer voice said as the codes vanished.

"What did you just do? What was all that stuff?" Yugi asked.

"I finally got a good look at my program," I said. I remembered something I probably hadn't paid enough attention to when the codes had been visible. "It looked like a few more lines of hieroglyphics had been added. One of them said: 'All that happens here becomes real.' What the fuck does that mean?"

Yugi shook his head. "It doesn't sound good. Could you fix anything?"

I nodded. "We can't delete anything that's already been written, but if we win a challenge we get to make adaptations. When I attacked the program directly it stopped me cold, but I figured out how to work around that." I outlined the changes I'd made.

"That's great, Kaiba!" Yugi said, flashing me a thumbs up sign. "I just wish Yami and Mokuba knew what you've done."

I thought again of Mokuba's face in that moment before Gozaburo's blow had landed. The worst part was: he hadn't been shocked; he'd known what was coming.

I swallowed, wishing Yugi wasn't here; needing to answer him anyway.

"Mokuba will know," I said as I pulled out my GPS tracker to confirm our direction.

It was time to get moving again. But first I called in my katana. This time the Wicked Worm Beast didn't keep me waiting in vain. Abruptly I switched my katana for the shorter wakizashi. I wanted to get my hands dirty. Even with the shorter blade, it didn't take long to dismember him.

Yugi stared at the hacked up remains – or maybe he was looking at my bloodstained clothes. Just like in a video game, the stains would fade. My sleeve had mended itself already. Yugi wasn't as startled this time. Instead he looked thoughtful. "I never asked Yami what happened all those times I blacked out. I didn't understand why you and Mokuba acted like we were enemies."

But Yugi hadn't been my enemy. My grudge had been with Yami. He'd reached into my dreams so easily; I'd relived our first penalty game every night, felt myself torn limb from limb by my own duel monsters. I could take that. What had been worse, the thing that had goaded me to try and get revenge any way I could, was that I'd been powerless to stop him.

I hadn't had that particular nightmare since Death-T, as if one penalty game had driven the other out.

"I guess you think that was kind of cowardly of me? Not asking Yami, I mean," Yugi said.

Now that I thought about it, I guess it was. But Yugi had saved Mokuba more than once. As far as I was concerned that put his actions beyond my disapproval.

I shrugged. "I never had the luxury of ignorance," I said. Then something occurred to me. "Was that why you jumped in at Duelist Kingdom when I challenged you to that duel in front of Pegasus' door? I was trying to get Yami pissed enough to give me a match. I know why he said yes. What about you?"

"I just knew something was different. Even though you didn't mention Mokuba, I could tell – something had changed. That it wasn't about winning or revenge or titles. It was about something real."

"How'd you know that?" I said, frustrated all over again. It was bad enough that nothing in this game made sense, without having Yugi as a companion, without owing a debt to someone this incomprehensible. I stepped closer, towering over Yugi, waiting to see if he'd back down and admit he'd made it up. "You saw me try to kill your grandfather at Death-T. I almost killed Mokuba – or were you too out of it to notice?"

Yugi shrugged. He looked helpless when he did that. It annoyed me, reminded me that he wasn't the one I was used to dealing with. If Yami was here, we'd probably be in a fight already. But somehow, when I cooled off, I'd see things a little clearer. Conversation has its own thrusts and parries. It's a duel too, in a way. A battle doesn't just prove who's the stronger man, it can also show who has the more powerful vision, the truer path.

"No. I knew," Yugi said. "But Yami saw something in you worth saving, even then."

Yami kept insisting we were friends. I even agreed. But knowing he'd made that decision at Death-T… He'd been inside of me. What had he seen? Somehow it felt like no matter how far we'd moved since then, we kept coming back to it.

"You didn't know anything about Yami," I reminded Yugi. "So why listen to his opinion? Not only did you accept the match at Duelist Kingdom, you threw the duel."

"Because I knew Yami was right about you. And I knew it would be wrong to let you die, even if it looked like it was what you wanted. And I sure as hell didn't want this spirit that lived inside me to be the one pushing you off that tower. There are just times when you have to trust yourself, your sense of right and wrong. I guess there are times you just have to trust your heart."

I snorted and waved a hand at the empty landscape around us. "Yeah, we can all see what a winner of an idea trusting your impulses can be. Mine led us right here."

Yugi shook his head. He did it so deferentially it took me a moment to realize he was disagreeing.

"I can see where this game's been twisted, when it feels like someone's watching and laughing at us, just like in that virtual world Noa lived in. It's tried to kill us even. But a lot of it… I don't know… feels like you when you're dueling," he said.

I'd been so angry that Gozaburo was in here somewhere where I couldn't get at him, that whoever was after Yami had invaded my game, violated it, that I hadn't taken the time to stop and think. But Yugi was right. Somehow, underneath everything, a lot of it still felt like the game I'd designed.

"Maybe your impulses were on target after all," Yugi said. "Maybe what you need to do isn't fight them, but follow them. What did you have to do to win this game, anyway?"

If I'd had the answer to that one, I wouldn't have needed to create the game in the first place. But I tried to shove as much confidence as ever into my voice as I said, "I don't know."

Thanks to Bnomiko for betaing this chapter through all its revisions.

AUTHOR'S NOTE: Bnomiko reminded me that Yugi plays a role playing game against (Spirit of the Ring) Bakura in the early manga - but neither of us could remember if he'd been a Healer or not. Actually, being a Healer wasn't one of the options. For reasons I can't even begin to guess at, he picked being a Beast-Tamer instead, although I was pleased to see he didn't have any weapons, making him a very humane Beast-Tamer. The best part of rereading it (besides finding that you could choose to be a Hobbit - something I wish Yugi picked instead of Half-Elf) was that when you picked your attributes, Jounouchi basically bypassed intelligence!

I found writing Kaiba to be a bit of a balancing act this chapter. I think he does know he can trust Yugi, but I also think that the act of trusting anyone but Mokuba makes him uncomfortable. And he decided at age 8 that the way to be happy was to never reveal anything of yourself, and now he's in a position where everything is working against that. So I thought he'd be caught between conflicting influences.

Now that they're back in the virtual world and the story line is a bit more established, I'd really like to know what people think.

Comments would be adored…