Welcome back! I've been binge watching documentaries about Ancient Egypt and it's really helped me get in the mindset of this arc. I'm also just learning a lot in general. Definitely a lot of cool history there.

Please enjoy!

"This door seems safe."

The Mages were cautiously optimistic at Seto's words when no obvious trap sprung when the door opened. Every other door they had tried so far had either been a deadly trap or lead them in circles. Already Malik had almost lost a foot and Bakura's hair had been singed from two different traps.

Even though the room appeared empty, Yugi knew better. "Tread carefully," he warned, remembering Shadi's invasion after Duelist Kingdom. The floor had stayed solid long enough at first but gave way at the first misstep. "There are lots of things that could still go wrong."

"You must be lots of fun at parties," Bakura muttered as they inched their way forward.

"You wouldn't know," Yugi shot back hotly, "You always get blackout drunk in the first ten minutes."

Ryou quickly slapped a hand over Bakura's mouth to stop him from digging himself into a deeper hole than he was already in. An angry Yugi usually meant an even angrier Pharaoh, and Ryou really wanted to avoid those consequences for the duration of this mission. There would be plenty of time for Bakura to risk his own health and safety with Yami later. Right now they just needed to find their way through this impossible maze and to the right door.

They carefully made their way around the room, looking out for any traps. When they ensured that the floor wasn't going to fall out from under their feet, they were able to take a better look at the room they were in. There wasn't anything remarkable about it: stone floor, stone walls, stone ceiling. Absolutely nothing of interest, or anything at all, inside.

"Well that was a waste of time," Malik complained, "There's nothing in here!"

"That just means this is one door we don't have to revisit," Seto said, "If only we had something to mark the door with…"

Yugi looked around and saw a loose rock on the floor. "Here," he tossed it to Seto, "We can scratch the doors with this."

Seto moved to the door, when it suddenly slammed shut on its own accord and the floor began to shake. Everyone scrambled to the edges of the room as the center of the floor began to fall into what looked like a bottomless pit. Seto tried to open the door, but it didn't budge.

"What's happening?" Ryou asked frantically.

"We found the trap," Bakura answered curtly, "Stay close, Ryou."

"No worries," Ryou inched closer to his yami.

The floor continued to fall away and the Mages clung to the walls as the ground crumbled beneath their feet. Their handholds left something to be desired for too; even the most extreme rock climber would have difficulty finding any kind of secure grip.

"No chance on that door opening, Seto?" Ishizu asked anxiously, managing to find a tiny stone that stuck out just enough to put a toe on.

"I'm trying!" he grunted, but the door refused to budge and now he had no leverage against it.

"Now what?" Malik looked around. They were well and truly trapped.

Yugi looked down at the pit. If they fell into it, who knows what would happen to them? They would probably be trapped forever, unable to return to the real world or help Yami! But then again...they were inside the Puzzle and he carried half of the Pharaoh's soul. Could the Puzzle really risk getting rid of him?

The door was locked, there was no floor, and there were no other alternatives to their situation. Well, there was nothing else for it then; his hands were starting to slip on the wall anyway. Yugi let go and allowed himself to fall into the dark hole.

"YUGI!"

Yami's head snapped up and looked around. He could have sworn he just heard Yugi's name, but he was alone with the exception of the guards outside the door and he was certain that none of them had said it. Besides, it didn't actually sound like a voice, more of an echo within his own mind. He sighed and turned back to his work, he couldn't afford to be distracted right now.

Every scrap of information about Syria that the scribes and servants of the palace could dig up were splayed across the tables in private council chambers. Yami poured over the information, trying to come up with a battle strategy. They had to ride out soon if they wanted to stop the invading army before they got too far.

Why did his father think he could do this? He was effectively thirteen in this world, and while his mind and soul might be so much older, it didn't change the fact that he had never led an army to war!

(Flashback)

"The day will come when you take my place as Pharaoh over Egypt," Aknamkanon told him, "The people will need a strong leader to protect them; one they can trust in. How can they trust their king to keep them safe if their king has never seen war? They need to see you have what it takes to lead and command."

"I'm only thirteen!" Yami protested, "You expect an army to take me seriously?!"

"By this point most of our generals know about how you handled the 'Ramin incident'. You have their respect, and therefore the respect of those they lead."

Yami walked over to the window that overlooked the town below. If the Syrians invaded, they wouldn't stop at simply taking over the throne, every single one of his citizens would be in danger. This was so much bigger than just an assassination attempt. Could he really do this?

"What if I fail?"

Self-doubt crept into voice against his will. All of his battle experience, all of the times he saved the entire world, it all eventually boiled down to a one-on-one duel. Leading and organizing an entire army, trying to calculate all of the possible outcomes to minimize damages, knowing lives will be lost, even sacrificed...it was overwhelming.

"Then I will share the failure," Aknamkanon answered, "But I am not worried about you failing. I am confident in your abilities."

"Well, that makes one of us."

"It's not just me. Mahaddo believes in you too. So does Ahmed, and Isis, and Shimon, and Akhenaden, and–"

"I get it," Yami cut him off, "I'm incredibly outnumbered when it comes to faith in my own abilities."

"That's right," Aknamkanon grinned lightheartedly.

Yami returned the grin, but it quickly fell as his mind refused to turn from his impending task. He had to remember that he had to approach this as a game. A game with the highest stakes yet. A game where if he made the wrong move, Egypt could fall. But these were the games where he always seemed to manage doing the impossible, so maybe he could actually pull this off.

(End flashback)

The good news was that Aknamkanon had offered him literally every resource at his disposal. Already he had dispatched nearly three thousand soldiers with orders to report to Seto and obey his commands when they arrived. The bad news was they were running short on time and he had no idea how large the Syrian army marching on the border was. He could only hope that the battle could at least be stalled until he arrived with more men.

He couldn't help but lament how different this situation would be if he had the Puzzle and the support of his Court. A Yami no Game against the Syrian commander should do the trick. Or he might just let Bakura and Malik have free range over the battlefield. He chuckled to himself as he imagined Bakura's reaction if he ever received that kind of news. It was almost enough to distract him.

Somewhere in the back of his mind he wondered if he had done this the first time around. These events seemed to have been thrown into motion because somebody thought that because he stayed locked up in his room, he wanted to kill the Pharaoh. Did the conspirators actually exist before or did his lack of memories and actions thereof cause this butterfly effect?

A knock at the door interrupted his focus. He looked up with the intent to tell whoever was there to get lost, but the words died in his throat when he saw who his visitor was.

"Hello, Father," he sighed, turning back to the scrolls.

"I came to see how you were doing," Aknamkanon said as he entered the room and took a seat across the table, "And to offer any advice I can."

"Have anything on how I can end this peacefully?" Yami asked dryly, rolling up some of the maps. He would be taking those with him when he left.

"I'm afraid not, I wish there were. If the Syrians cross our border and attack, I'm afraid the loss of life will be inevitable."

"I know…"

"Just remember you won't be alone. Mahaddo will be going with you and you'll have Seto waiting for you when you arrive. Let me tell you from experience that their advice and support will be invaluable. Don't try to take on everything yourself."

Well, it wasn't his Court, but it was the next best thing. Mahaddo had been his closest confidant since he got here, and Seto was, well, Seto. The similarities between this Seto and his Seto were uncanny.

"You're right," Yami relented, "They will be invaluable."

Silence reigned as Yami continued to roll up the scrolls in front of him and sort them into two piles: ones that he would take with him and ones that would need to be put away.

"*****," Aknamkanon said hesitantly, "There may be one strategy you haven't considered yet. I know you are against the idea of taking souls–"

"I'm not against the idea," Yami corrected, not bothering to tell his father that he had considered that plan, but only in a situation where he had ownership of the Puzzle and his Court.

Aknamkanon looked at him dubiously. "You expect me to believe that you spent an entire week locked in your room after accidentally taking the souls of some guards under circumstances that you don't even fully remember, because you don't have a problem with it?"

"That was a different set of circumstances. I was upset that that happened outside of my control, that it happened to innocent bystanders, and that nothing could be done to fix it," Yami argued, "But now I'm about to lead an army into war! I will do whatever it takes to keep this kingdom safe!"

"That I believe," Aknamkanon said staunchly.

"However, Seto is only one person," Yami continued, "I won't object to him doing what he has to do, but I will not tell him to take on more than he can handle."

"I would expect nothing less of you," his father nodded, his face turning unusually vulnerable, "I'm beginning to regret my decision to put you in charge of all of this with every minute."

Yami quickly crossed over to his father, placing his hands on his father's shoulders. "I don't want to do this either, but I understand why you put me here, so I don't blame you. I'll be alright," he offered a small smile.

"Promise me," Aknamkanon stood and pulled him into a warm embrace, "Promise that you'll return to me no matter what."

That was an impossible promise, but if anything, it would give Yami a reason to not make foolish decisions on the battlefield. After all, if he died here, he'd never learn his name, become Pharaoh, and return to his world. If he couldn't return to his world, then it might just fall to darkness. and that was something Yami refused to allow to happen.

"I promise."

(5 months later)

Yami ducked and weaved through the swarming enemies, his swords making short work of any enemy he passed. The battlefield was littered with discarded swords of fallen soldiers so Yami had snatched up a second one so he could dual wield. He was grateful that Bakura had insisted on being proficient with a sword, both single and dual wielded, and had actually taught him how to fight.

Most people would assume his short stature would hinder him in battle against much taller, brawnier men, but all it meant was that he could duck under everyone's defences before they realized what happened. When he finally returned home, to his Court, he was going to give Bakura whatever he wanted.

When he had first arrived, he had trouble reconciling the killing he had to do. He quickly learned that if he hesitated out here, his enemies were not merciful and would cut him down. Now, he barely gave thought to his sword spilling the literal guts of his enemies onto the sand. If he sat down and reflected on it, the idea that he was becoming numb to killing and death scared him.

Any time those thoughts crawled into his mind, he forcefully reminded himself that this was war and these people wouldn't hesitate to kill him; in fact, they were actively trying to. He would deal with crushing guilt after this was all over.

A sudden sharp pain in his arm nearly had him drop his sword, but he managed to hang on and slice through another enemy soldier. He could feel the blood running down his arm and promptly ignored it, along with any ideas of contamination from the rest of the blood that covered him. It could be cleaned later.

"Retreat!"

The Syrians started to pull back, but the Egyptian army didn't let them go peacefully. They continued to pursue the Syrians for a short distance until the Syrians were flat out running away from the battle, and even then, only the fastest escaped death by Egyptian blades.

A loud cheer went up at the victory. Mahaddo pushed his way through the soldiers and stomped over to the prince.

"You, Prince *****, are the biggest idiot in this entire army!"

Yami bore the tongue-lashing he was receiving from Mahaddo as he was manhandled into sitting on a discarded cape on the ground. With the adrenaline wearing off, his arm was starting to really hurt.

"Your father is going to have a heart-attack when he hears that you got injured!" Mahaddo continued to scold him as he poured water over his arm to clean the wound. It was a deep cut, almost to the bone, but it would heal eventually. "He'll skin me alive when he learns that it was on my watch too!"

"It can hardly be considered your fault," Yami said, watching his army start to tend to their own wounded. Servants who stayed at the rear of the fighting started to set up camp again.

"Lucky for you, we won," Mahaddo said darkly, wrapping the injury crudely.

Yami needed to be on his feet so the army could properly celebrate their victory; Mahaddo would force him into the privacy of his tent just as soon at it was finished being set up. He shouldn't have to wait too long since the servants were well-practiced in the break-down and set up of his tent.

Seto ran over, Blade Knight at his shoulder keeping a vigilant guard.

At least one good thing had come from this war: Yami had finally learned how monsters were summoned in Ancient Egypt. Every one of the Item Bearers wore a winged gauntlet, that Yami had previously assumed was decorative or a symbol of status. The DiaDhank, as he learned it was called, functioned basically as a modern day Duel Disk. The strength of the wielder determined the strength of the monster that could be summoned. Blade Knight was by no means the strongest monster Seto was able to summon, but it was more than enough against an army that didn't have the Shadows on their side. Honestly, it was surprising the Syrians hadn't surrendered then and there the first time Seto summoned a monster.

"Is he injured?" Seto asked Mahaddo, eyeing the prince worriedly.

Yami rolled his eyes and answered for Mahaddo, "Yes, he is, but he'll live."

"You might," Seto addressed him, ignoring the sarcasm, "But we won't if your father gets hold of us."

Yami shook his head in amusement. There was no reasoning with these two when it came to what they thought their duties should be versus what Yami thought their duties should be. It was almost as bad as dealing with Malik and Ishizu, especially Ishizu.

"While Mahaddo drags me off and patches me up, I need you to figure out the damage taken on both sides and bring me a full report," Yami instructed. Just like with Malik and Ishizu, if he gave Seto a task, it would distract him from frantic worrying and protocol. Seto nodded his acknowledgement of his orders and set off to fulfill them.

As soon as he was out of sight, Mahaddo covertly grabbed Yami by his uninjured arm and led him off the battlefield. It wouldn't be good for Mahaddo if he was seen dragging the prince by force, so Yami went willingly. Besides, his arm really hurt.

Back in the privacy of his tent, Mahaddo all but pushed him into a chair so he could get better access to his arm and started muttering a healing spell over it. Yami noticed with irony that the wound was in the same place as the scar he got from a gunshot wound. It seemed that no matter what age he was in, he was supposed to carry this scar.

"My job would be so much easier if you didn't insist on fighting in the front lines," Mahaddo griped.

"I will not leave my men to fight a battle I will not fight myself," Yami retorted, "Father sent me here to prove myself to the people of Egypt, and I cannot do that from the back."

"I'm not even going to ask where you learned to dual wield swords like that," Mahaddo continued as if Yami hadn't spoken, "I've watched your training your whole life and I've never seen you fight like you do here."

"I learned from a Tomb Robber," Yami answered mischievously, "He insisted on it."

"Were you always this sarcastic?" Mahaddo asked, properly wrapping up Yami's arm, "Or are you just trying it out for size? I'll tell you now, it's not very becoming of a prince."

"Maybe," Yami allowed, testing the mobility of his arm. It hurt, but he could move it if he had to. He would still be able to fight. Thank Ra for Mahaddo and his healing spells, he could only imagine how horrible this would be without them. "But I don't have to be a prince behind closed doors."

Sounds of celebration at their victory carried through the tent walls. Yami frowned. He was happy that they had won this battle and pushed the Syrians back, but the war was far from over. If the army let down their guard, they would be leaving themselves open to a surprise attack.

"It's fine," Mahaddo assured, as if reading his mind, "There are still sentries on guard. It's good for their morale, this was a major victory for us."

Yami nodded and pulled out his maps to study. They had gained ground and expanded Egypt's borders, and as good as that was, it was not Yami's goal here. All he wanted to do was keep the Syrians out of Egypt and hopefully create some kind of treaty that would keep it that way. Unfortunately, every attempt he made to meet with the Syrian generals had gone ignored.

At the rate things were going, none of them would be going home anytime soon. Well, at least he wouldn't. He reached for a small scroll and started writing. He would stay here and see this through to the end, but he would start rotating the men out just as soon as his father sent replacements.

He glanced up at Mahaddo as he busied himself straightening things within the tent. There were dark circles under his eyes and it was clear to Yami that he was constantly stressed. Seto had the same symptoms, but he was better at hiding it.

They would both go home, he decided, and quickly wrote for a replacement for them. They had been carrying a lot of responsibility on their shoulders and deserved a break. Neither of them would be pleased with it, but their anger was something Yami was willing to deal with when the time came.

He sighed and went in search of either a messenger or a hawk to send his message, praying to the gods that this war wouldn't last too much longer.

So Yami's fighting a literal war. To be honest, this whole sub-arc wasn't ever planned, but it works I think. Plenty of experiences for Yami to go through in Ancient Egypt.

I know Yugi's logic in the Puzzle was a little flimsy, but I will be addressing it later! Also, we'll only be catching glimpses of the other Mages every so often for reasons that will (hopefully) become clearer later on. For those of you wondering when Yugi and Co. will be joining Yami in Ancient Egypt, my answer is: sometime before he becomes Pharaoh. And for those of you wondering when Yami becomes Pharaoh, my answer is: not for several years.

Stay safe y'all. Please review!