CHAPTER 32: WRESTLING LIFE

Disney got one thing right – Heracles really did fight a god to bring a beloved wife back from the dead. Of course, they also missed a few details: her name was Alcestis not Megara, and she was Admetus's wife, not Heracles's.

Admetus had a charmed life. Literally. He couldn't die as long as someone volunteered to take his place in the underworld. (We all see where this one is going, right?) Admetus gets sick, falls into a coma and wakes up to find out his wife has died in his place and his buddy, Heracles, is knocking on his door ready to party.

Rules of hospitality being what they are (and bros being what they are) Admetus decides to pretend his wife is alive but unavailable and party on like nothing had happened. When Heracles finally figures out the score, he rushes off to wrestle Thanatos and restore a living Alcestis to her husband.

MORAL: It took both love and friendship, both lies and truth, to reach a happy ending.

Shadi remained on the ground, too awestruck by Horakhty's presence to move. "You came. You're here."

Horakhty floated down to Earth to stand in front of him. She towered over the group. "Arise, lost one. You can't walk forwards while lying on the ground." It was hard to tell if Horakhty was offering kindness or mockery.

Shadi scrambled to his feet; his eyes remained fixed on the floor. He lifted them occasionally, stealing glances at Horakhty, as if afraid of being caught and made to put them back.

Atem held out the Eye to Horakhty. "The Items were corrupted from the start, born out of a blood that wasn't ours to shed. Even the most devout hopes, the purest intentions couldn't stand against that. The Eye should have meant vision, it should have been the all-seeing Eye of truth. But each misuse tainted it further. It's beyond our ability to cleanse. We can only lay it to rest and hope it grants us a final, true vision." Atem turned to Shadi. "I'm ready to see whatever the Eye chooses to show me. Can you say the same?"

Atem laid the Eye in Horakhty's hand. Everyone instantly felt the sense of purpose, of magic, of finality that had been missing. Wisps of purple haze drifted between the duelists and their onlookers, a permeable, translucent boundary, the idea of a barrier rather than the thing itself.

"I accept your charge," Horakhty said gravely. Her fingers closed around the Eye. Blood ran from her closed fist, staining her golden robes before burning away.

Horakhty opened her hand. The Eye was gone. Only faint traces of blood on her palm remained. Everyone gasped, then shielded their eyes from a sudden sandstorm, then gasped again at the scene before them.

They were in the courtyard of Atem's palace, as if they'd zoomed there. Mahaad and Mana were staring into the distance.

Atem frowned. The Eye was showing him his home. But there was an unfamiliar hint of melancholy tainting the air, leaching the color from the flowers in his courtyard, weighing down Mahaad's shoulders. The fish moved sullenly in the blue gray water of their ornamental pond.

"How have you managed to keep faith?" Mana whispered. "It's so beautiful here, but even the clouds, the river and the fields miss him. It's been so long, living in a paradise that lacks its pharaoh."

"When the centuries of waiting sit heavily on me, when the season when he sacrificed himself returns to burden my heart – that's when it's most important to hold on to my faith. If I lose that, what else is left?"

Mana turned to him, sobbing. Mahaad hugged her, letting her cry on his chest.

"It will happen," Mahaad said. "I believe in the gods and on their four foundations: truth, justice, balance and order. But what order can there be without him? What truth or balance exists if the pharaoh is lost forever as a reward for his sacrifice? Where is the justice in that? When I think of those things, it becomes easy to believe and to take joy once more in this haven that the gods have made for us."

As if in answer to his words, the sky lightened, a pale sun broke through.

Atem drew in a breath. He hadn't known. He'd assumed that the years without him had been filled with happiness. That they'd waited an eternity for him, only to watch him leave…. He remembered Mahaad whispering to him, "I thought all of us… your friends… your council… would be enough. I don't understand why we weren't."

"Platitudes aren't action." A harsh, familiar voice broke into Atem's thoughts.

Seto strode into the courtyard, tanned, his sun kissed hair gleaming, every inch Atem's high priest. Atem glanced from him to Kaiba, comforted and slightly amused by the incredulous and offended look on his rival's face.

"Enough, Seto," Mahaad said, unwilling to resume an age-old argument.

"The time when the pharaoh can be reborn is almost due. I've been waiting for this moment for millennia. If he manages to free himself, he'll need someone to guide him here. I'm returning to Earth."

"No! This is madness! The gods will do what is right in the time and way that they deem proper. Do you think to upset their ends with your own wisdom?"

"I'm not waiting on anyone's convenience, even a god's. And how do you know this isn't part of their plan? They created me as I am. Maybe it was for this purpose. I'm going."

Mana had chosen to be thirteen in the Netherworld, but she still remembered the long years of her life with Seto. She argued with him anyway. "But once done, you can't turn back. You'll be reborn anew. None of your memories will survive. How will you guide him, even if he manages to free himself, even if you manage to find him?"

"Do you think I didn't factor all of that into my calculations?" A dragon roared in the distance. "Nor are you the only ones to voice objections. We're connected. I know it. I will find him. I will accept no other answer. I see a road. I'm walking down it wherever it leads."

"What if it turns into a road of battle?" Mahaad asked.

Seto's grin flashed out, knife sharp. "Even better. When have I ever turned away from a fight?"

"When indeed?" Atem murmured to himself, looking at Kaiba. This wasn't the road his high priest had envisioned. But like him, Atem refused to turn away from the fight.

"For 3,000 years, you were remembered. You were loved. Every day, by everyone you knew," Shadi said quietly.

"How do you know you weren't?" Anzu challenged. "It's easy to assume no one cares. That doesn't make it true. You're acting like they forgot you. Maybe it was the other way around."

Shadi turned to stare at her, surprised anyone but the duelists could speak and be heard.

"What?" Honda said, moving to stand slightly in front of Anzu. "You're the one who keeps saying you've forgotten everything."

"Yup," Jounouchi added. "Sounds like a 'you' problem to me."

"When I see them… Mana, the faithful Mahaad, Isis, the pharaoh… even this pale corrupted copy of his high priest… some of it returns to me. But if they truly remembered me, how could I have forgotten so much?"

"One side can only cling uselessly to a lifeline, if the other lets go," Atem said.

Shadi lowered his head like a bull about to charge. "These must be illusions sent to trick me, to sow doubt where none has existed for millennia. Begone shadows!"

The scene changed abruptly. Modern apartment walls replaced the ancient courtyard. The only greenery came from a potted plant; the only fish swam in a tank. Diva, Sera and Mani were sitting around a table, chatting. Mani said something and Sera pushed him. He rocked in his chair and laughed. A framed drawing of Shadi hung on the wall.

"Friends, family, home… why is the Eye showing me all I have missed throughout the centuries?" Shadi cried.

"It's not what you missed," Anzu said softly. "It's what you turned your back on. Everyone's life card has worth and meaning. I can't believe… no, I refuse to believe – that the only meaning to yours is to wander alone throughout eternity chasing after a mission everyone else has outlived."

Isis sighed. "Sometimes the worst fates are the ones we wish on ourselves, the ones we follow blindly even though every fiber of our being is screaming in warning." She took the necklace out of her pocket and walked up to Horakhty. "The way to see the future is to live it. Anything else – no matter how ancient or how beautiful – is a mockery of the gift the gods have given us."

Isis inclined her head and gave the Necklace to Horakhty. She walked back to her brothers. "I thought I needed the Necklace, but I'm ready to face our future unadorned."

"You've been ready for a while. You were just too stubborn to admit it," Malik said.

Isis smiled at them. She glanced back at Horakhty, then buried her face against Rishid's arm, unwilling to see the Necklace drained of its power, unwilling to wonder how much of the blood flowing from it had belonged to their clan.

Their gasps were smaller this time, as the scene changed once again.

They were in a candlelit room. Yugi was older; it was hard to tell how much older in the dim light. Atem struggled to make sense of the scene in front of him. The Necklace was showing them the future. But, Atem realized, it wasn't his future; it belonged to his friends. An event was ending. Guests were saying their goodbyes and filing out the door. Yugi was left sitting in a large room filled with empty chairs. Anzu was holding his hand, Jounouchi was standing behind him; one hand was on Yugi's shoulder. Yugi's head was down.

"You know we're staying the whole night, right? We'll keep the old guy company with you."

Atem heard Yugi – the real one – sob and then catch himself. It was then that Atem noticed the casket, the picture of Sugoroku surrounded by flowers.

The scene faded, replaced by a hospital room. Anzu was in bed, her foot in a cast. She and Yugi were middle aged. They were still holding hands.

"It's okay. We both knew I couldn't keep performing forever. It had to end one day." Anzu tried to smile. "And you have to admit, at least I had a good run while it lasted."

Before they could react, the scene swirled and shifted again. Jounouchi and Yugi were sitting on a bench in the park, watching some kids play duel monsters. Their hair had turned white. Yugi's resemblance to his grandfather was even more pronounced. Jounouchi had a cane resting between his legs.

"Look at them!" Jounouchi said. "We saved the world once, and now no one remembers."

The scene started to shift. Atem braced himself. There was another death left to witness.

The skin was stretched tight across the bones of Kaiba's face, the sheet seemed almost a burden to his spare fame. Kaiba turned to face them; it was clear he was speaking to someone they couldn't see. Kaiba laughed, then coughed and retched in payment. "It turns out there are some laws even I can't break. But I've no complaints coming; I almost ran the table."

Mokuba sobbed behind them. Anzu gathered the boy into her arms, murmuring meaningless, comforting sounds into his hair.

Atem had thought of his life in terms of what he had missed. Now it occurred to him how much he'd been spared.

Next to him, Kaiba snorted. "Why is everyone acting like they've never seen a funeral before? Did you all really expect your lives to roll merrily onwards? Dancers break their legs. People grow old and die, if they manage to last." Kaiba laughed. "Did any of you ever think I was going to live that long?"

"Nisama!" Mokuba said reproachfully.

"We've come too far. You should have picked a guardian who likes to lie."

"Don't worry kid, you saw it yourself – only the good die young," Jounouchi said.

"So much for you to look forward to," Shadi said, his words calling a halt to their banter.

Atem drew in a breath. Shadi was right. Atem had gone from youth to the afterlife without thinking of all the steps in between. But Anzu and Kaiba had been right as well: they'd had a good run. Atem exhaled. The Necklace had revealed no mysteries, only the familiar truths they all ignored every day. If his friends could face the future, how could he do any less?

"Maybe this is a foretelling," Atem said. "Maybe it's simply a reminder of the casual tragedies of life. Whichever it is, I accept it."

"So did I, once. I'm not your enemy. I remembered names and faces and lives until they all ended over and over, until they blurred together into a nameless blob, until amnesia was a blessing and I only wished for a more perfect forgetfulness. Don't you see, it had to have been worth it?" Shadi pleaded.

Malik stepped forward. "No one, not even you, has sacrificed as much for this demented mission as our family. But once the pharaoh departed, it was over. Whatever happened next was no longer our concern."

"We were finally able to find what freedom we could," Rishid added. "You could do the same… you could try."

Malik leaned against Rishid and flashed the pose from all their travel vlog posts. "Live well or die mad about it."

"You bounced into my soul room like you'd taken out a lease," Anzu said. "What do you see in yours?

Shadi shuddered.

Horakhty held out her hand to Shadi. "I'm not the goddess of cowardice. You know the powers of the Millennium Key… and you did not come this far to balk now."

Shadi walked forward mechanically and placed the Key in her hand.

Images suddenly swirled around them, shards of puzzle pieces that refused to come together, fragmented ghosts wandering aimlessly, without rest, through Shadi's mind. Some they could recognize – barely – as they drifted in and out of view: Diva… Isis… Mahaad… both Setos. Others had been lost to time.

Shadi had told the truth. These phantoms were all that were left of the people he'd known and loved, of the lives he'd lived.

And Shadi had lied. He'd never stopped trying to fit the pieces together.

"Is this your home?" Mai asked, her voice a shocked whisper.

Shadi's silence screamed in answer.

"I know what it's like to live in a world you don't understand, to be stranded in time, to forget who you are," Atem said.

Shadi choked back a sob. He gave a barely perceptible nod.

At Shadi's gesture the room righted itself. They were in the computer room again looking at the familiar holograms of Atem's home. They felt the reeds brush against their legs; they could hear the river singing in the distance.

They listened in silence for a moment. Then Mokuba walked up to his brother. "It came to me for a reason. It's my turn now."

Kaiba nodded.

Mokuba walked up to Horakhty until her brilliance cast a small shadow behind him. He held out the Rod, still in its silken pouch, and bowed. "Excuse me, your goddessness… I think this belongs to you."

"It was made by men," Horakhty replied.

"Yeah, I know. But all it does is cause trouble and we can do that good enough on our own."

"You never used it. You never even untied the strings of its container."

Mokuba shook his head. "It just didn't seem worth it to me. Nothing good can come from forcing people. Even when you think you're controlling someone for their own good, chances are you're probably doing it for yourself. Anyway, I don't need a Rod to find my brother. I just need to look at the guy who's been standing next to me every day of my life."

"At last, the Rod has found a wielder with the wisdom to master it."

"But I didn't! I never even touched the thing!"

"Exactly." Horakhty extended her arms.

Mokuba pulled the Rod out of the bag for the first time and placed it in her hands as if laying it on an altar. She smiled at him. Mokuba backed up until he was standing next to his brother. Kaiba briefly stroked Mokuba's hair before dropping his hand to rest on Mokuba's shoulder.

The Rod lost its shimmer, turning into a baser metal. Cracks appeared along its column. Blood flowed freely from each crevasse, to be drunken up by the sand beneath Horakhty's feet. When the sand had swallowed the last drop, a girl appeared, clothed in light, her long hair the color of moonlight on the Nile River. The familiar giant Blue Eyes White Dragon appeared behind her, a momentarily silent, shining shadow.

Shadi stared at her and then – for the first time – looked at Kaiba without resentment, seeing himself riding through a town with his comrade at his side, their only thought how to defend a pharaoh who refused to protect himself. Shadi remembered a mob… and a girl with star-bright hair.

"I know you," Shadi said to her, surprised.

She nodded and smiled. "You saved me."

Shadi's face darkened. "You died anyway."

"Yes. But for that day, you saved me."

"I remember. I was with Seto. We dispersed an angry mob. They wanted to kill you." He tilted his head, still surprised. "I remember." Shadi frowned. "I thought it had all vanished. How can I suddenly know you? Don't you see, I'm no longer that person."

"If that man has truly disappeared, then I mourn his loss."

The Blue Eyes White Dragon turned to Kaiba. The girl and the dragon spoke with the same voice. "I promised you that every time you summoned me, I'd be there. Remember that I spoke truly."

"I'll remember," Kaiba promised.

"You're not attacking me?" Shadi said. "Please." It was hard to tell if he was pleading for life or death.

"No. I'm not." Kisara came forward and hugged him briefly. "I died in a war. I prefer peace." Kisara went to the Blue Eyes White Dragon and embraced her other self, merging with the mighty beast as easily as a naiad flowing back into her river. They disappeared with the gentle shimmer of moonlight on water.

"Humans fear death. I did once. But unending life in a field of death is a worse fate." Shadi closed his eyes and bowed his head. He swallowed then walked up to Horakhty, the Scales in his hand. "I'm ready to be judged. I'm ready to be devoured by Ammit for my transgressions."

"Have you broken Ma'at's Laws, or tried to keep them?" Horakhty asked.

"I no longer know. I lost so much of myself along the way. All that remained was my mission, and to let go of that was to lose the final piece."

"When we granted your wish for the strength to see your mission through, we didn't expect your devotion would lead you to stay until you saw the pharaoh's return, and then past it. You've surprised even the gods. But now is the time for balance. What do you wish for, my faithful servant?"

"I wish I had died with my brothers and sisters. My soul would have been weighed on Ma'at's scales, of which this is but a copy. I would have entered paradise with a heart as light as a feather." Shadi dropped his head; Horakhty's brilliance hurt his eyes. "But the years have weighed my heart harder than stone. Now, all I long for is oblivion, to be erased from memory."

"Is that truly your wish?"

"I've forgotten how to wish."

"Show me." Horakhty held out her hand to Shadi for a second time. He lay the Scales in her open palm.

The room plunged into something more than darkness, a yawning, gaping void, erasing every remembrance of light, of life. For a second each of them felt utterly alone, not just beyond reach, but beyond memory.

Kaiba shivered, unable to feel Mokuba at his side, trying desperately to remember the exact shade of Atem's eyes, struggling to recode them in his mind. This is what Death-T had been like, in the moment before he'd started to piece his heart together.

As Atem stared into the void, he started to see, as if watching film developing in a private darkroom, the tangled history of his relationship with Kaiba. It had begun in a darkness almost as deep and impenetrable; each of them locked in their own anger, lashing out as if the other was the cause. Atem saw a younger Kaiba waking up night after night, having been torn to shreds by his own monsters, every scream convincing him that his adoptive father was right, that losing was death. Kaiba was drenched in sweat, his eyes wide open and unseeing – as Shadi's had been through so much of this confrontation – determined to do anything to make it stop.

Atem knew he was watching in part, a litany of their hate, of the war they had waged against each other. He didn't look away.

And then Atem was racing through Death-T, terrified of letting everyone down, he was standing across from Kaiba on Pegasus' tower at Duelists Kingdom – one ready to kill, the other to die. He was walking through the streets of Domino with Kaiba, each duel another exchange in an ongoing conversation. He was promising Kaiba their road of battle continued beyond sight. He was walking away. Kaiba was storming into his throne room, eager for their next match.

It had happened so slowly, Atem couldn't point to a moment and say, "This is when it began," but they had learned to bridge the gaps that had divided them… from themselves and from each other. It was only now that Atem was looking back at the footprints they'd made, that the length and depth of the journey became clear.

Shadi's voice broke into Atem's thoughts. "I died over and over, was reborn each time without respite. What could that mean except that I'm unworthy of a home or a future?"

"Is this all you think your life chip is worth?" Anzu's voice was muffled by the emptiness surrounding them; the catch in it was recognizable nonetheless.

"I tried to see another answer for centuries," Shadi said.

"Sometimes any answer is easier than admitting stuff happens and we don't know why," Bakura said softly. "Sometimes there's just us and the decision to defy the darkness… or give in."

'I tried to hold on to myself. I couldn't do it alone," Shadi admitted.

At his words, the darkness started to lift.

Atem walked up to Shadi. He reached up to put his hand on Shadi's shoulder. "I'm your pharaoh. It's my job to help you find your way home and I will honor that responsibility."

They'd reached the final turn. Atem had seen it from the instant he'd called to Horakhty, from the instant he'd put the first Millennium Item into play. And now that he'd brought them to this point, Atem had no idea what would happen next. The future lay just beyond his fingertips, as unknown and unknowable as the void he'd just stared down.

And in that moment, Atem finally, fully, understood why Kaiba had insisted on walking alone, refusing to allow even hope to be his traveling companion. Once you admitted you wanted a future, once you admitted you were made for more than sacrifice, once you invited hope in, you became life's hostage.

"And life is risk," Atem muttered.

Kaiba started at his side. He'd said those same words to Isono, when this had all begun. Isono had replied, "Risk is certainly a part of life, sir." Kaiba hadn't seen a difference then. He didn't see one today. "Yes. It is indeed. And all we have to hazard is the single chip of our lives."

Atem nodded. His confident smile flashed across his face. Kaiba was right. It was time to stake everything for Shadi's future… and his own. Not because of destiny or strategy, but simply in hope. Atem turned to Kaiba. "Whatever happens next, I'll never give up until I find you. Do you trust me?"

Kaiba had promised to have faith, to believe in something beyond self-reliance and the inevitability of betrayal. His lips tilted upwards. "Provisionally. And I bet I'll find you first."

Atem smirked. "That sounds like a challenge."

"Even if I hate whatever you're about to do, even if I don't understand, I'll never stop you from being yourself. That's another challenge… but it's also a promise."

Atem looked at Kaiba. The light within his rival and lover seemed to briefly shine outwards, as if he'd borrowed a bit of Horakhty's radiance, re-tuned it to Earth's frequency and reflected it back. Atem held back a smile; the moment was too profound for so simple a gesture. A sense of elation, of rightness swept through him. Atem had left Domino once for a haven of peace and plenty. Now he'd returned to find a second home and a different peace, unexpected and precious, a hearth-fire in the heart of a volcano.

A smile raced across Atem's face; the moment was too joyous for anything else.

Atem nodded to Kaiba. "Thank you."

He walked up to Horakhty. "From the beginning, this Puzzle has meant friendship. It's meant Mahaad and Mana and Kalim and my court. It's meant Yugi and Jounouchi and Anzu and Honda. I thought I had to choose, that unity meant picking a side. I knew nothing. Unity can't be held by an object, even a sacred one. And it doesn't mean holding to one side only and ignoring everything and everyone else." Atem took the Puzzle off and pressed the eye at its center. The Puzzle broke into pieces in his hand. "I'm still standing. Because unity is being true to myself and all those I love. Thank you for giving me the time to learn that." Atem bowed and transferred the pieces into Horakhty's cupped hands.

He turned to Shadi. "I'm not the one who needs to find peace. Now that you're ready to believe, it's time to learn that you weren't forgotten, you aren't alone."

At Atem's words the jumbled Puzzle pieces glowed with a golden light, and reformed in Horakhty's hands. Sparks flew upwards, swirled, grew together and flared out, then coalesced again. Palladium Oracle Mahad appeared from their midst, garbed in armor and ceremonial robes. His staff was held in front of him.

A wave of homesickness swept over Atem, an ache that not even Yugi and Kaiba's presence could blunt. He longed to ride out to the fields with Mahaad, to fish with Kalim by his side, to swim in the river…

"I've missed you," Mahaad said to Atem.

Atem swallowed. "Me too, my faithful friend."

"Come home soon."

Atem smiled. "I will. Tell Mana she owes me a handball rematch, although I'm still out of practice."

Mahaad nodded and walked up to Shadi. His staff was held in front of him. "My old friend," Mahaad said sadly.

As Shadi stared at Mahaad, the kaleidoscope shards in his soul finally resolved into memories. Shadi fell to his knees, blind to everything but the images flying by. He was pretending to be startled when Mana jumped out of a pot, then pretending not to be annoyed the second and third time it happened; he was grinning as Mahaad chided her. He was arguing with Mahaad a moment later, refusing to listen as Mahaad tried to tell him the truth about the Millennium Item in his hand. He was sitting between Mahaad and Seto at council, his head swiveling as if at a game as they yelled back and forth until stopped by their pharaoh, by Atem.

Shadi rose shakily to his feet.

"Mahaad," Shadi said. There was a sense of release in sounding out the syllables of his old friend's name. He paused a moment, enjoying the way they lingered in the air. "Seeing you… knowing you... is a blessing. Are you here to be my executioner? It will be a relief to be escorted to oblivion by you."

"No. I'm here to lead you home."

"Home…" Shadi whispered.

Mahaad lowered his staff to touch Shadi's chest. The staff merged with Shadi's body, finally reaching his heart.

Shadi sighed and closed his eyes. Mahaad caught him as he started to crumple and hugged Shadi to him.

If light had coalesced before, the opposite happened now. The instant Mahaad's arms completed their arc, embracing Shadi, a soft light rose and hid them both... a light that radiated outward in all directions and disappeared, taking Shadi and Palladium Oracle Mahad with it.

The group stared for a moment, stunned, then glanced apprehensively at Horakhty, who remained.

"Are you ready to return to the Netherworld as well?" Horakhty asked Atem.

"Yes. But I'm not ready to stay there."

"I once asked you what you wanted."

Atem smiled. "When you first asked, I didn't understand the question. Now, I know the answer. I want what I have – choice."

She dipped her head. "Then I know the reward to give you."

Horakhty cupped the rebuilt Puzzle in her hands. It glowed briefly then dimmed to ordinary gold. "We are lending you our strength for a lifetime."

"But mine has already ended," Atem reminded her.

She nodded towards Kaiba and Atem's friends. "I didn't say it was for your lifetime."

"And..." Atem paused, drawing up his courage. "Can Seto cross the barrier as well? I'd like to show him my world."

Gods weren't made to show confusion, but Horakhty managed. "Why are you asking if he can do something that he's already done?"

"Excuse me?" Kaiba said, offended. "Are you claiming you had a hand in my technological accomplishments?"

Horakhty smirked, her balance restored. "You're very well named, and even luckier that your namesake has always had a taste for chaos." She turned back to Atem, who was still shifting from one foot to the other. "Yes? I'm still your goddess," she reminded him, her features gentling to a true smile.

"There is one more thing I'd ask." Atem paused, swallowed, and then said, "The Netherworld is a place of eternal youth and strength, and its pharaoh must match. But when I'm here, I want to experience all the ages of a man's life. I would grow old alongside my friends."

Horakhty nodded again. "That's as it should be. You've already grown wise, little pharaoh."

She disappeared in a swirl of light. The gang looked around at the now empty fields. A nonexistent wind rustled through imaginary reeds. They could catch a glint of sunlight on the river.

"Whew! Now that that's over, I'm starving!" Who wants to grab something to eat?" Jounouchi asked.

Anzu glanced at Atem. He was staring around him, finally able to enjoy his surroundings. He looked at the farmland beyond the river, at the grain waving in the breeze. "It's beautiful," he murmured.

"I have an idea," Anzu said. "Why don't we order takeout and eat here, so Atem can share a little of his world with us?"

"Thank you," Atem said. "I'd like that."

"Modern equivalents of Ancient Egyptian street food for twelve. Got it," Kaiba said. He pulled out his phone, called Isono and placed the order, not bothering to mention to Isono that they'd won.

.

Thanks to Bnomiko for betaing this chapter!

AUTHOR'S NOTE: One thing I've always loved about Yu-Gi-Oh! antagonists is that there's the sense that they're people who've been pushed past the limits of what they can endure and the resulting destruction spirals in all directions, both external and internal. I thought of Shadi that way, as someone who lived for this mission until he'd forgotten himself, until everyone he'd known had blurred into an unrecognizable blob. I wanted to use the Millennium Items in a way that seemed to fit each individual item. Most of all, I wanted the resolution to this penalty game that wasn't a penalty game to, as Atem promised in the last chapter, "find an ending that satisfies all our missions." I'd love to know what you think.

While this is the end of the confrontation there are still two more chapters left to the story. Because the story was never solely about dueling Shadi, or even not dueling Shadi. Atem and Kaiba have made a number of promises throughout the story and it's time to see how they fare and if they can put them into practice.

Especially now, it's really nice to hear from people and know that people are still reading and enjoying the story.

Stay safe everyone!

SOCIAL MEDIA NOTE: I am on Tumblr, Dreamwidth and Pillowfort as Nenya85. Come check me out there!

To paraphrase Louise Rosenblatt, "A story's just ink on the page until a reader comes along to give it life." This is my way of saying that I'd really like to hear what you think. Please comment.