He set his jaw and pulled up a command prompt.

Shit.

"We're not dying," Seto said. He glanced at the gun set on the desk beside him and typed as quickly as his fingers could move. It wasn't game over, just a stall, a brief pause. He would get it running again.

That didn't mean that the men attacking would stop. Even finishing with the virus didn't mean—

"That's it," Seto whispered. He stopped trying to get the virus restarted and focused on gaining complete access to the server holding the backup file. Stopping Gozaburo permanently shouldn't have been his first step. Disconnecting him from his followers had to be the priority.

Gozaburo had to be taken offline and made inaccessible. Seto could leave the virus there to work, or come back around to it once the men had stopped. If they believed that the virus had taken hold, maybe, possibly, they would retreat. Or at least stall long enough for the air teams to arrive.

It wasn't much of a plan, but it was better than anything else he thought of.

"Your dungeons run all throughout the island," Seto said. That was what Satuwatari had told him all those years ago and Seto never questioned the information. "Once they find me, they'll head back. Goz—Aizawa wants me alive. At least for now."

He hit a firewall and paused while looking for a way to disable it.

There.

"Go hide. In the event that I can't get this through, which I will, but in case, you can't let him walk around as me."

Hide. Wait. Kill him if I fail.

Seto wore the scars daily. He knew how fragile the human body was. If the virus wouldn't take down Gozaburo, a bullet would.

"Don't let him get Mokuba."

Pegasus let Seto's words pass through his mind several times, testing their weight. If he wanted to make sure his body wasn't used to fulfill Gozaburo's wishes, fine. If the train of thought ran morbid, it was only because of the man they were dealing with. There were a lot of things he could rationalize, about half of those he could let come to pass. Surrendering Seto wasn't one of them. But his other requests were a different story.

The boy would have nothing if not for Mokuba, and Isono wouldn't have gotten very far in just a few hours.

Protecting him was as good as protecting Seto.

"I won't let anything happen to Mokuba." His eyes found their way from Seto's profile, working furiously with the screen at hand, to Croquet. "Do as he says, both of you." He nodded at each of his men. "Consider it my last request should something happen."

"You say that like you're staying here."

"Very observant of you."

"I can't let you do that."

"You don't have a choice, Croquet."

Seto shuddered at the familiar tone to Pegasus's voice and fought back the surge of anger that screamed he didn't need whatever martyr he thought he was acting as.

The movement of his fingers stopped him from shaking his head to clear his mind. He was one brief step from accessing the server and there was no telling how much it'd developed or been tampered with, since left dormant in his sea of internal storage. He wouldn't take down Gozaburo without the man fighting back, virtual or otherwise. Whatever he had to say, if he could find a way to voice it, was not for Pegasus's ears.

If he could've afforded to take his eyes off the screen for even a millisecond—the progress bar flashed 47% from the task bar at the bottom of the screen—he'd have looked to Croquet to back him.

But he wouldn't.

Like Isono, he was loyal to his commands until the bitter end.

His stomach churned. He hoped Isono would be loyal in a case like this, but couldn't be sure anymore.

"Go now," Pegasus said, and much to Seto's horror, they did.

"You should go," Seto said. He broke through to the server and paused while staring at the screen, at a completely different set up than he'd last seen. The moment flashed by before he got to work again.

The gun fire outside intensified, likely the men from the boats making it to shore and joining the fight. All three hundred—three thousand?—couldn't end up on the island. Likely just the few who were at leave to abandon whatever they had been doing in the middle of the night, those willing to risk their lives for a tyrant. Those idiots ready to kill for a stranger.

With the virus back up, Seto had multiple options for ending this, getting the server offline or stalling long enough for the virus to do its job. It said 50%, but the number lied. It would slow.

And with Croquet gone, Seto didn't know how they would stay updated on the fight outside. In a castle this large, one built with stone, they wouldn't hear doors opening, only the footsteps and guns as it grew too late.

The pop ups started again, likely the result of Seto recovering from the system error so quickly. He exited out of the first taunt, only to have three more take its place.

Surrender

Surrender

Surrender

Seto tried not to think about who was behind the messages, only that they needed to stop. Closing them took time. He didn't have enough as it was. Even seconds mattered in this case, and clicking out of the constant threats slowed him down.

Pegasus hadn't moved.

"Fuck it. If you're dead set on staying, at least barricade the door. Buy us more time."

Seto leaned in toward the monitor, scanning over the coding on the screen. Implant the virus. Take it offline. Let Aizawa believe Seto won. The progress bar—52%—couldn't be seen on the other side. They wouldn't know how long it took to run its course.

As another bullet hit close to them, this one not coming through the window, but hitting on the stone around it, Seto hoped the castle was as impenetrable as he had previously feared.

Pegasus moved wordlessly across the room and stationed himself at the opposite corner of the door, allowing him clear vantage when it opened without the immediate risk of being hit, or worse, impaled by bullets that came through first.

Jumping a potential intruder would be too risky if they managed to get inside with a gun. Any semblance of struggle could set it off, and Seto's head was a prime target. He allowed his gaze to wander to the weapon on the desk for a stray moment, knowing, and hoping in some deep part of himself, that if it came down to it Seto wouldn't use it to spare his life.

He'd be a shield. A body used to buy more time to save Mokuba.

If it saved Seto, so be it.

Hundreds of things kept him up at night but dying had never been one. Not since losing her. The way Seto talked, and the mental preparation required for facing certain doom, left no room for what he'd do if they walked out of this alive. The idea of Seto leaving on a boat, never to return, was too much to bear. He may have needed to spend a long time with the man before the loneliness subsided and the feelings found their footing, but it had to happen eventually, didn't it?

There was a silver lining somewhere, wasn't there?

He blinked, forcing himself to focus on the frenzy of sounds evolving around them. The boats had docked or otherwise been infiltrated because he couldn't hear the engines anymore. Gunfire still sounded, but with a dying sort of fury. He could count the seconds between rounds, sometimes getting a full hand in between. Five seconds was a lot of time.

"You can't have finished already," he whispered.

Seto barely heard him through the relentless strum of his fingers on the keys. He'd integrated the virus and was relieved to find it speeding the upload rather than slowing it down. Having a direct path left less room for interference.

55%.

The server code began distorting into unrecognizable symbols, just a small patch repeated a few thousand times, but enough to make progress. Aizawa would be seeing the effects if he was hiding somewhere conspiring with his stepfather. Like the annoying static of a television growing worse over time, the virus ate through code little by little while Seto waited and watched.

The relentless taunting slowed, which was a good sign. Whether the cultists were gripped by anger or panic didn't matter to Seto. He'd stalled them, and in what he hoped would be a very short time, would wipe them out altogether.

He blinked hard to clear his vision, blurred from the glare of the screen, for a minute it looked like the code morphed into the silhouette of his stepfather's face.

58%. An unwanted message.

You think this is checkmate, boy?

He had a moment. A few seconds really to take a better glance at the room, at the bullet in the ceiling and the dim light coming through the window. He turned back to Pegasus, standing by the door, and said, "You're not much of a barricade."

Seto faced the computer again and tried to find a link to reply to the taunts. If Gozaburo wanted to use them to slow him down, the same could be said in reverse. Gozaburo was too proud to allow a challenge to slip by him. Any effort put into the messages was effort not spent on stopping the virus.

61%

If there had ever been a time for Pegasus's villainy, this was it. He didn't need the pathetic victim who had been insulted one too many times. He needed the mastermind of Duelist Kingdom, the creator of a worldwide strategy phenomenon. Seto was working on little food and multiple injuries, a head wound, but he had a better grip on the situation than the man who put him in it.

He accessed the system being used to send over the messages, typing one out of his own.

You're well-acquainted with my checkmate.

Pegasus hadn't taken Seto's hint, so he took a moment to face him again.

"Pegasus. Wake up. They aren't going to come in shooting." Pegasus didn't move, but Seto put his back to the door again. Monitoring the screen was more important than snapping Pegasus out of his daze. "He wants me alive and uninjured. This body is worthless to him if maimed. Move the dresser. The bed. Something more substantial than yourself."

He caught the beginnings of a counterattack and set about to stop them just as the bar hit 66%. He didn't know what to make of the lessening gunfire, but hoped that the invaders would have trouble finding their way through a castle this size. He had time.

Hopefully enough.

Pegasus forced himself to move, scanning the room and taking a minute to decide on a course of action. The dresser was closer and quicker to handle, though hindered by the carpeted floor. He worked it in front of the door and grabbed a framed picture frame from the bedside table to prop in the space between the doorknob. It was already locked, and the wood would snap without much pressure, but it'd buy them a few seconds in the struggle. That might be enough.

He made his way across the room, keeping low to avoid the window, and worked the mattress off the double bed. It wasn't sturdy enough to do much good, but the box springs would. The size was awkward to manage by himself, but with the mattress finally propped against the wall where the dresser had been he managed to walk it over and prop it well enough. He put the mattress over the window, knowing it wouldn't stop any bullets that found their way through but could slow them down a little.

The bedside table went on top of the dresser and behind the box springs. It wasn't a very artful barricade but would be formidable enough.

"If you're not indisposed, at least tell me how far along we are."

66%, but he didn't say it.

Gozaburo's taunting hadn't stopped, and was much more pressing than anything Crawford had to say. Though he was glad the man had woken, even briefly, from his trance by the door.

He shook his head to clear it, never dreaming that the tormentor behind the screen could sound so similar to the one across the room, who leaned over him for just a moment—checking the progress bar—before returning to his useless post.

"It's faster," he said, sounding too indifferent for comfort. "We'll make it."

The room was silent save for the gunshots as the virus continued. Seto had little else to do but monitor it, watching it roll over 70%, then a minute later, 75%. He was ready to pull Gozaburo offline if needed, but only as a last resort, just like the gun resting beside him.

He wondered how Gozaburo's followers would react to finding Seto having shot himself, not fatally, but causing enough damage to make his body useless for Gozaburo. They might drag him out, certain that surgery could repair any wound. While Seto would prefer shooting himself in an arm or the side, somewhere more easily patched together, he understood that shattering a joint would be hit best option to ensure Gozaburo would pick to invade someone else.

His chest shook with his next breath. They'd kill him in that case, but there wouldn't be a point in putting Noa in Mokuba's body without Seto's. At least Seto wouldn't have to deliver the final blow himself. He couldn't bear the idea of that getting back to Mokuba, too easy, too cowardly.

If he knew anything about Gozaburo, they would end up meeting face to face, whether in the virtual world or the real one. He wouldn't want to win without meeting Seto's gaze. He had time. Mokuba had time.

Do you hear that? It sounds like my men are inside.

Seto closed his eyes before typing out a response. Anything to buy time, to split the number of people coming after him.

These dungeons are a maze.

Gozaburo might not believe it, but he certainly wouldn't take the chance that Seto slipped under the pressure. He'd order the cultists to divide, some going down and others up. Less men on their floor meant more time for the virus to complete. And the longer Seto stared at the screen, the more of the coding disappeared.

"Apparently they're inside," Seto said. "I don't suppose you have a gun."

As the bar touched 81%, the gunfire ended.

Pegasus pulled himself from the reflection on the surface of the doorknob, turning to face the back of Seto's head fast enough that he nearly lost his footing. "I don't," he replied, taking a minute to steady his voice. "It's too risky to try and move the mattress now. I'll wait as long as I can before I do. You'll have better chances out in the open than you will trapped in here."

He didn't know where Seto was getting his information but there was no sense questioning it. The silence outside could only mean one thing. He shifted his weight from foot to foot, trying desperately to keep calm. Staring over Seto's shoulder would throw him off. Making any sudden movement by the window, even to check the state of things, would give them away. He stayed by the door, pacing the short length between his corner and the back of Seto's chair.

"The men in the air can't all be ours," he warned, trying to keep his voice down. "Even Aizawa would know better than that. Your best bet is to head east as far as you can."

If you can get away.

If they aren't waiting on either side of the window for me to pull the blind up.

His hands shook too hard to move the hair from his face, so he stuffed them in his pockets and looked back at the computer screen.

86%

"Follow a straight path through the forest as far as you can, and when you reach the valley make a left and follow it until the stream runs dry. The mouth of the cave is beyond the pine trees. It's a steep incline but you should be able to manage it if you can afford to ease yourself down."

He strained to make out any unusual noise. They wouldn't hear footsteps through the stone walls until it was too late. Their only alert of danger would be raised voices or banging at the door, none of which he'd put passed men that approached war two by two.

Seto focused all his attention on Gozaburo but had to wonder why Pegasus made a show of staying with him if he wasn't in it for the long haul. He'd be the one moving the mattress from the window, it wasn't like he wouldn't have time to get out first if he needed to.

What good would it do to step aside and usher him through?

Mokuba's the perfect size.

His heart seized in his chest even knowing it was a bluff.

The screen flashed 88% before he gathered the nerve to move his fingers.

"I'm not running."

One gun, if fully loaded, eight shots? He hadn't checked to see what type Croquet had given him. But running with so little protection would be futile, and he had to spare at least one bullet to injure himself. If they got close enough to him, he'd fire rather than fight.

Okay, Seto reconsidered. It would depend on the number of people coming after him. But he paused his work just long enough to move the gun to rest on his leg rather than the desk.

90%

You can't hide m$ch longer.

Seto smirked at the glitch and wiped the expression away. He couldn't get cocky, not with ten percent remaining. The logical portion of his thought processes realized that if Gozaburo caught on to the inevitability of the virus working, he would download into anyone near him and willing. Could he find someone willing to hand themselves over?

The lack of gunfire reminded Seto that an entire swarm of people had crossed hundreds of miles to risk their lives. Someone, if there was anyone by the computer, might allow him use of their body.

Even if Seto took down the system, Gozaburo might get out.

Seto could only hope that he was too cocky to consider failure. If he really believed Seto's virus wouldn't work, he wouldn't hop over to the nearest person. And if he did, would he rebuild the entire system just to switch over to Seto at a later date?

There was no time to think of it. The bar stalled at 93% and Seto started looking for the cause. Resistance on the other side, most likely. After a few seconds, the bar started to move again. They couldn't work faster than Seto, than the program he had created to kill his father once and for all.

Shots echoed behind him, not from outside anymore, but from the hallway.

95%

"We just need a minute," Seto said. "That's it."

But once Gozaburo was dead, his supporters would have no reason to keep Seto alive. They would come in shooting.

Mokuba would be okay.

Pegasus forced his breaths to remain even, straining to trace the noise to a coherent source. They couldn't be more than a few doors away by now, but the echo wasn't loud enough for them to be across the hall.

"I suppose it's a bit late to ask if you know how to use that gun."

Seto grunted at the absurdity but kept his eyes trained on the screen. His free hand drew the weapon closer just in case, if there was one thing he knew without having to test the theory, he was a better shot than Pegasus.

Gozaburo's taunting had ceased entirely. The few characters that showed up streaked lines of gray and red across the screen. He was disappearing, soon to be no more than the lingering figment of his nightmares.

As the dull thud of footsteps and heavy clatter of boots to wood drew closer, Pegasus struggled to discern irregular movement. Four men, maybe five, at least one of which was seriously injured.

"What'd ya make of this?"

His eyes closed slowly. My bedroom.

"Search it. Take everything you find. And leave him, he's slowing us down."

The last bit was muffled, meaning whoever spoke was leading his men. The injured party, Pegasus grimaced at it being just one, cried out as he fell in a heap to the floor. The impact was too heavy for him to have braced or caught himself at all. By the time the other men found them, he'd be too far gone to aid the fight.

Their pursuers would find nothing of interest in his bedroom. He didn't keep anything important where it couldn't be burned promptly and without concern of damage to something else. But it bought them time.

He moved to check the computer screen again, trying to ignore the potent flood of relief that came as the number came into focus.

97%.

They were too late.

Even if they abandoned ransacking his bedroom in the next handful of seconds, they still had at least a moderately effective barricade to contend with. They could shield the computer until the virus finished.

He leaned closer to Seto so as not to be heard over the commotion evolving outside. "Keep your head down," he whispered. "Wood won't do anything to stop the bullets."

Seto obliged only to put the necessary distance between their two forms, and Pegasus moved immediately to the mattress by the window. He hesitated, one hand resting on either side. Once they made any move to indicate they'd found them, he'd risk the noise of moving it.

Seto may have said he wasn't running, but the job was almost done. There would be no sense making a martyr of himself before Mokuba was even out of the woods.

Pegasus almost laughed, but let the dread sink in a tight knot to the bottom of his stomach.

By now the boy must've realized how much the situation had changed, one moment of underestimating those men, one ill-timed calculation, was all it took to be the end of both of them.

99%

The door handle shook as someone tested it, and Seto squeezed the handle of the gun for a brief moment, assuring himself it was there before breaking his intent focus on the computer. He couldn't know if Gozaburo got out in time. They couldn't have made another back up with the virus corrupting the system. Either Gozaburo downloaded into the nearest person—Seto almost hoped for Aizawa so he could kill them both with one shot—or he would be gone for good with a single percent.

"In here!"

Thumping and beating came from behind him, and then a gunshot, echoing through the room. By the window, Pegasus flinched and began to move the mattress, but Seto went back to staring at the screen. One percent. He had to believe that final number would be the end, that his only fight would be the one trying to break down the door.

100%