Chapter Twenty-Two:

Chain Reaction

Malik's expression was completely deadpan while Ryou's was incredulous. "This is like the blind leading the blind," the former sighed.

"I see said the blind man!"

"Shit!" Ryou yelped, nearly jumping into Bakura's arms. His wide chocolate eyes glared at the source of the new voice, a scowl settling over his features. "You..."

Marik just grinned wide and leaned on Malik casually. "How are you guys doing so far? Everyone all right, no scrapes, bumps, or bruises?" His dusty eyes danced merrily. "No Pharaoh? Damn Bakura, you're getting careless."

"What do you want now?" Bakura growled. "If you can't tell, we're busy."

"Aw, I'm just here to help." Marik looked down at Malik. "Well, you look a little ruffed up? Ryou finally jump you?"

"Shut up," Malik shot back. "And get lost."

Marik suddenly started laughing. "That's rich, hikari, really. You three couldn't get anymore lost and you're telling the only person who can help you to leave."

"I know what I'm doing just fine," Bakura seethed.

Marik shrugged. "Have it your way, Kas." He moved away from Malik, his smile far too sinister for the trio to be comfortable. "Before I go, though, I just want to give you all a push in the right direction." The Rod guardian raised a hand, slamming Ryou in the chest with an unseen ball of energy.

The hikari toppled backward, trying in vain to steady himself as he stumbled backwards, miraculously missing the first swinging blade. But, the catwalk was as fragile as it seemed and gave the second Ryou stopped moving.

"Bastard!" Bakura roared, launching himself at Marik. The only thing his fist caught was solid wall and the thief spat out a string of potent curses.

"Oh, by the way!" Marik called, reappearing on top of the second scythe. "There's something you want somewhere around here. I can't remember where I placed him, but he's around." The blond smirked. "Though, I don't know if he'll stay put once he comes around... And it's a long way down."

Bakura's fists clenched and he bit down on his tongue hard enough to draw blood. He knew Marik was trying to get a rise out of him and it wouldn't work.

Marik saw this and shrugged. "I'm just warning you, Kasirika. I wouldn't want the Pharaoh to get hurt." His expression turned nasty. "Would we?" The spike haired Spirit leapt back, the telltale sound of flesh being shredded marking his ever interesting exit.

"That damned bastard," Bakura hissed.

Malik turned, looking slightly sickened. "Care to explain that exchange to me?"

The snow haired Egyptian growled, his dark eyes trained on the swinging scythes. "He's just screwing around with my head."

The mortal didn't look convinced. "Last time I checked, your name was Bakura. Why'd he call you by another name?"

Bakura moved to the edge of the trap, surveying the area below. To his relief -and panic- Ryou had fallen into a sandpit, having been knocked unconscious either by the fall or the attack from Marik. "Ry's okay for the moment."

Malik nodded, having already confirmed this for himself. His lilac orbs followed the blade his other half had just occupied, his features darkening. "Something seems familiar about this."

"For me, it's dead familiar." The thieving Spirit eyed the seventeen-year-old. "But, how it seems familiar to you is beyond me."

"How do you know what this is?" Malik asked.

"In other words, do I know how to get around it?" Bakura didn't wait for a reply. "I don't know how. Last time I saw a set up like this, I was the one controlling the trap, not the one trying to get around it."

"What happened to the person who was trying to get around it?"

"He was chopped up into bloody little bits and left to rot in the bottom of a tomb while I just traipsed out unharmed," Bakura replied nonchalantly.

"Do you know who it was that you so nicely diced up?" Malik pressed.

"A faint idea, nothing solid." Bakura sighed. "I told you, I don't know how to get around this."

Oh yes he does. Malik shoved his hands in his pockets, letting his eyes wander down to keep watch over Ryou's inert form. "Okay, how did you avoid getting chopped up?"

"I was on top of the blades when the trap was sprung," Bakura replied. "I knew their timing so I just jumped across them to get out."

A slow smile spread over Malik's lips and his eyes turned up to regard Bakura with an almost insane light in them. "That's all I need to know. Thank you much."

"Wait, you're not going to-"

"Damn straight, tomb robber. Now, you gonna move your ass and save your stupid Pharaoh or am I going to have to get him and Ryou myself?"

"You're crazier then Marik!"

Malik shrugged and backed up before taking a flying leap at the first blade. The Egyptian sadly underestimated the distance between the scythes and wound up smacking into the second one, wrapping his arms around the cold metal supporting the scythe to prevent a possibly bloody fall.

"Not as smart as Marik, but just as crazy," Bakura sighed, walking over to the edge. He held a hand out and grabbed at the pole, swinging himself up so he was standing somewhat precariously on the top of the blade. "You okay, Malik?"

"Fine," the seventeen-year-old grunted, hauling himself up to his feet with some difficulty. He looked pale and very shaken, but still determined. "I'm going to find a way down and help Ryou. You look for the Pharaoh."

"How do you propose you get down?" Bakura asked.

Malik shrugged, eyeing the ground beneath the trap. It was indeed a long way down, but the sand created large dunes in some places. Unfortunately, the nearest pile was toward the end of the trap, meaning that the Egyptian would have to try and make his way across the scythes. Still trying to figure out the problem, he yelped in surprise then he felt Bakura's hand appear over his.

"Just walk across them carefully," the thief cautioned. "The gap isn't so big that we have to jump to get to the next. Though, I'd watch out for more traps within the trap."

"You're the thief, not me," Malik muttered, copying Bakura's earlier move and holding a hand out. Once the next blade's support made contact, he held on for dear life, pulling himself across the gap. Once his boots hit a solid surface again, he let out his breath.

"Good boy," Bakura taunted, as he joined the blond for a second before crossing over to the next blade with increasing ease.

It's no fair. He's obviously dealt with this sort of thing before. The worst thing I've ever had to counter is Ishizu's security guards. Malik watched as Bakura crossed the swinging blades sullenly before moving to the next one and so on, getting the feel for what he was doing.

Bakura was already at the end blade when Malik reached his drop off point. "C'mon, Malik! I don't have all day!" the Spirit called.

"Just keep looking for the Pharaoh. We'll catch up!" Malik replied, looking down. If I die, I'm coming back to haunt Ryou, I swear. The seventeen-year-old took a deep breath and pushed away from the blade, inadvertently making it swing in a larger arc. As he fell, the scythe came around and sliced across his leg.

Bakura, having just reached solid ground again, turned at the Egyptian's pained cry. "You fucking moron!" he growled, going to dive after the mortal. But, the sudden tugging at his collar stopped him.

"Let the child be," Marik whispered in the thief's ear. "He'll be fine."

Bakura yanked his shirt clear of the other guardian's grasp. Before he could land a hit, Marik captured his wrists. "Let me go!"

Marik smirked nastily. "Gladly," he hissed, swinging the thief to the side and giving him a might shove.

Bakura hit the sand with a loud thump. Blinking away the stars in his eyes, the thief wobbled to his feet, groaning sickly. "Lousy bastard," he growled under his breath.

Suddenly, the scythes stopped swinging and Marik appeared under them, his frame shimmering with his aura. He gave a twist of his hand and the blades turned so they were end to end. "I'll let you go, but it won't be easy," the Egyptian twittered gleefully. "If you can take me down, then I'll help you out."

"My pleasure," Bakura replied with a dark smile.

Malik, who by now was up on his feet and checking on Ryou, sensed the shift in his dark side's aura and realized what would happen. "Bakura! Don't!"

It was too late. The thief was already moving in a kamikaze-style tackle, poised to snap Marik's neck in half the second he made contact with the blond.

Malik looked up and saw the scythes were under Marik's control and set to drop the second he decided to up and disappear again. Bakura will never stop. The teenager delved into his own infantile powers, following the trail of Marik's aura until he had reached the barrier his yami always kept in place. I just have to keep him in place, he reminded himself, forcing his own energy to combine with Marik's.

As expected, Marik fought back, but it was too late. The Spirit growled, "grabbing" at the string of Malik's aura, sending a powerful shock of his own energy screaming back at his hikari.

The momentary distraction was all that was needed for the scythes to break free of Marik's grasp, crashing toward the ground like a wall of guillotines.

Bakura saw the new danger and stopped in his tracks, skittering backwards to prevent his feet from being taken off at the ankle.

Marik wasn't so lucky. The blades, now out of his control, fell however they pleased with each one falling around him. But a rogue, still swinging like nothing was wrong, descended on the guardian. He fell under the attack in a vicious spray of silver/red blood, the phantom Ring falling free from his neck.

Bakura gasped in shock, his heart tearing out of his chest. He'd seen this before. He'd lived it...

"You can't win against the power of my Diabound. Just give it up already!"

A small smile. "I may not win now, Kasirika, but I will return." Amber eyes danced as a foot landed on a supposedly hidden trap. The Priest looked up at the thief Bakura. "And when I do, it will be to finish what we started."

"You're not going anywhere," Bakura growled, almost desperately. He couldn't finish this alone, not with his conflicted heart...

"Yes, I am." The Priest gave a small nod and stepped back into the blades, disappearing in a fall of rich crimson blood.

"Mahaado, NO!"

Bakura pounded his fists against the sand and scrambled to his feet. No, no, no... He's not dead. He can't be! The thief couldn't bringing himself to move forward, taking a deep breath. This isn't real... That wasn't him...

"Bakura, snap out of it!"

The snow haired Spirit looked over a fallen scythe, his dark orbs clearing of the panic induced haze. "It's not real..." Bakura shook himself clear of the memory.

"Are you okay?" Malik asked, still kneeling over a now alert Ryou.

"Fine," Bakura replied. He forced himself forward, stopping once he reached the wall of blades. "Are you two all right?" When the two hikaris nodded, the thief gave a relieved sigh and reached up to grab the top of the scythe before him and climb over.

But, the giant blades had morphed somehow and cut into Bakura's hands the moment he tried to haul his shaking frame up. With a startled yelp, the Spirit fell back to the ground.

"What happened?" Ryou asked, his voice a little hazy still.

"I can't get over," Bakura replied.

"We'll find a way around. You just find the stupid Pharaoh and we'll meet up later," Malik called. "I'm sure Ryou can feel his way around just fine."

"What's that supposed to mean?" Bakura demanded, afraid something had happened to his other half in the fall.

"I'm just fine, yami! Stop trying to put me in my grave a second time," Ryou sighed. "I can find you again, don't worry." The Brit smile wryly at Malik. "And don't worry about Malik, I'm here to protect him."

"Hey!"

Bakura chuckled, shaking his head. "Please be careful and don't do anything rash," he cautioned, sounding like an overprotective mother.

"We will... er, won't," Malik answered. "Same to you, Bakura."

"You know me. I'm the model of carelessness!" the thief shot back. He heard Ryou snort derisively and shook his head. The Egyptian turned to survey his surroundings. It looked a lot like a desert, what with all the dunes and expanses of flat sand. And from the looks of it, they were getting bigger by the second.

Wait. The dunes aren't getting bigger... Bakura looked around, praying to the gods that his own mind wasn't turning him into a midget. But, a closer inspection showed that the thief wasn't shrinking.

He was sinking.

Quicksand, in my own head... I hated this shit in Egypt and I hate it now! Bakura lifted his foot up and tripped, stuck in the deadly sand from the calves down. "Shit, shit, shit, shit... Where's a camel when you need one?" Wait, don't panic, you'll sink faster. ((Ryou, watch out for quicksand,)) he warned his other half.

(I don't know what it looks like!) Ryou replied indignantly.

((Malik should know.))

(And just how do you know about the quicksand?)

Isn't this embarrassing? ((I nearly stepped in a patch of it,)) Bakura grumbled, still looking for a way out of the sand.

(Suuuure. We'll keep an eye out for it.)

Bakura rolled his eyes and slowly started to lift one foot out of the cloying sand. Admittedly, in his first years as a thief, he was nothing short of dense towards traps. As such, quicksand wasn't anything new to him and the Spirit was in the clear after a humiliating amount of time.

The King of Thieves does not get caught in stupid sand traps. Bakura's brows furrowed. King of Thieves... Hmm, I think I could get used to the sound of that again. Grinning at his own sanctimonious dialogue, the snow haired Egyptian searched the ground for more quicksand, finding instead a thick trail of shimmering blood.

* * * * *

"How are you holding up?" Ryou asked in a soft whisper, looking up at Malik with a concerned light in his eyes.

The Egyptian shrugged, his gaze wandering all over the place to look for potential traps. "For nearly having my leg sliced off, I'm okay."

"It doesn't hurt, does it? I mean, we can stop so you can collect yourself," Ryou rambled. "It looks like the bleeding isn't letting up. You-"

"Ryou! Calm down, creampuff!" Malik broke in with a small smile. "I won't suddenly collapse from blood loss. If I were in my body, I'd be worried. But I'm not, so there's no problem."

"So... It's your spirit that's bleeding?"

Malik nodded. "That's the long and short of it. Yeah, the injuries reflect on your body and leave nice scars, but the bleeding and pain are next to nothing."

Ryou winced. "What about your spirit? Does it heal?"

A hand strayed to the collar around Malik's throat, playing with the edge for a moment. "Not really. They'll stop bleeding, but they never go away. They always look fresh."

"Oh." Ryou lowered his head so his snowy hair fell across his face. He'd gone through enough tortures with Bakura in the past to know that Malik carried some wounds himself. And with a dark side like his... The Brit shuttered at the thought.

"Don't look so depressed," Malik chirped, nudging the other duelist lightly. "We've both got a... colorful past. Some questions are gonna be awkward and there's nothing we can do about it."

Ryou shrugged. "Yeah. I guess you're right."

Malik smiled, restraining himself from leaning over and kissing the sixteen-year-old. He sighed deeply, leaning into Ryou a little more to sate his selfish need for contact and resigned himself to scouting the area out for real. Just as he was about to announce that there was nothing to be found, he felt Ryou give a small start. "What?"

"Look! Malik, that door over there! I think that's the last door!" the teenager replied excitedly.

As quickly as Malik's injury would allow, the pair headed for the door, the Egyptian tugging it open in a trademark fit of carelessness. Fortunately, there were no traps to be had and the teenagers headed in.

The room was almost identical to the Puzzle, with doors and stairs in nonsense places and rich architecture adorning the area. On the opposite wall lay the only door that was accessible, seemingly harmless like everything else in the Ring thusfar.

"Should we go for it?" Ryou asked nervously.

Malik rolled his eyes. "No. I see a nice door on the ceiling we can try for."

Ryou swatted the blond. "I'll stop being your crutch."

"Then I'll fall."

"Then I'll laugh at you."

"Then I'll... I'll leave you here."

"You wouldn't?"

Malik smirked. "Of course I wouldn't." He patted Ryou's head patronizingly. "Onward, faithful creampuff!"

Ryou sighed, dragging himself and Malik towards the door, the flutter in his stomach turning into a lead ball. Something seemed wrong about this whole thing but it was too late to turn back now. The Brit took a steadying breath as he laid a hand on the knob. "If this is a deadly trap that takes our heads off, I'm holding you accountable."

"Fine by me," Malik replied, resting his hand over Ryou's. "We'll do it together."

Ryou smiled and twisted the knob, letting out a small gasp as it swung inward. "Oh my God... This-this is just-"

"Wow," Malik chipped in.

The room they were now in was unlike anything they had seen. One side was ivory and the other was onyx, with splashes of crimson all over. The floor and ceiling were made of crystal with small candles floating against the abyss, giving the room an ominous feel to it.

Most importantly though, doors lined all the walls and everyone one but the topmost levels were accessible. And, in the middle of the eerie room stood Yami, looking just about ready to die of boredom.

* * * * *

Bakura had decided that what he was seeing was without a doubt blood, freshly shed from what seemed to be serious or mortal wounds. Deviating from the sickening trail would have done him good, but at the moment, it was leading him safely around the sinkholes.

Still, it unnerved Bakura to no end, not knowing where Yami was or just whose blood trail it was he was following. He didn't want to think that it was his Pharaoh that was wounded so badly, but some part of him was hoping that it wasn't Marik. Whether or not this part of him wished that Marik was dead was left up to debate.

Clutching his own bleeding hand a little tighter around his shirt, Bakura hopped over an obvious sand trap and sidestepped another, more cunning one. I hope Malik and Ryou are all right, he suddenly thought, not having heard anything from the pair since they had been separated. Fortunately, he could still sense them, so they were alive.

Dodging potentially deadly traps and almost lost in thought, Bakura followed his savoir blood trail until it trickled to a stop some ten or fifteen minutes later. Looking up, the thief only saw a door at the other end of the room.

No spikes, no scythes, no crumbling stonework or sand. Just an ordinary door with what looked like a bloody hand print trailing down it. It was this distinct lack of traps that sent a chill racing down Bakura's spine.

Something decidedly dark was behind that door, the thief could taste it. On the other hand, something told him he was closer to the fabled memory rooms then ever before.

Bakura stepped lightly, traipsing across the expanse with any sort of resistance whatsoever. The Egyptian studied the door hard, weighing his options.

Ryou or Yami?

It was that simple to the thief. Finish his quest with Ryou or go back and find Yami? Either way, he would be betraying someone in favor of another. Still, what if Yami was already ten steps ahead of the; waiting around some hallway in the middle of a mess of memories dying of boredom?

That's probably it. Yami had the best sense of what we were doing, so he's undoubtedly waiting for the rest of us to show up. Nodding to himself, Bakura finished his trek to the door and opened it, taking no time to think about what he was doing before letting the door close.

The snow haired thief now found himself in room so much like Yami's soul room it was uncanny. Doors were placed wherever and stairs led off into no-man's-land, giving the whole area an out of proportion feeling.

But, it wasn't the room's likeness to the Pharaoh's soul room that had caught Bakura's attention. The minute he entered, he could smell blood and now had his eyes fastly trained on the source.

Laying in a mangled, gasping heap and surrounded in a pool of his own silvery red blood was Marik. A jeweled staff of emerald was clutched in his shredded hand and his amethyst eyes were almost dead as they turned to regard Bakura. "I-knew you'd... find me."

The thief approached carefully, not knowing if this was another trap or not. He eyed the staff carefully, something about it seeming familiar. "You survived your own trap," he noted pointlessly, kneeling down by the other Egyptian.

Marik found it in himself to comfort Bakura with his typical, sneering smirk. "I have before." He coughed, rolling onto his back with a groan. "The difference is that it was yours."

"Mahaado... That was your name before you died."

Marik gave a halting bark of a laugh. "Yeah it was."

Bakura couldn't help but feel guilty for landing Marik up in his current state. "Why did you step into that trap? I-I don't get it."

"You wouldn't," Marik replied darkly. "There's a lot you still don't get." He held the staff up so he could see it. "It's like I'm the teacher and you're the student, just as frustrating too."

Bakura sneered. "Funny."

"I think it is." Marik's gaze darted over to Bakura.

The thief shuttered, realizing Marik's eyes were a clearer shade of purple, almost identical to Yami's with crimson tinting the outside of his iris.

"You know, I found this in here. I guess it's mine." Marik's voice was growing softer. "The one thing I don't get."

"What's that?" Bakura saw the second form appear over him a second too late, clad in red armor and holding a staff identical to Marik's.

The armored newcomer swung his staff hard, knocking Bakura to the side while Marik disappeared in a plume of black smoke. He floated over to the stunned thief, holding the jeweled end of his staff in his face.

"This is your time to die, Kasirika."

Bakura's head jerked to the side and a strangled cry escaped his throat. "Yami!"

The Pharaoh smirked nastily, torn and blooded like Marik had looked a moment ago. As he moved forward slowly, Bakura's heart fell.

This was Yami. The illusion of Marik was just that. An illusion to put Bakura off. Yami… Was it him who was doing this all along? Bakura couldn't help put wonder.

Yami gave a snap of his fingers, calling out, "Magician of Illusion, destroy the King of Thieves... Once and for all."

Meep! I'm so sorry minna-san! My laptop decided it was high time I dealt with a virus infection and I had to get the damn thing sent in for an overhaul 'cause I couldn't figure out how to purge the strain myself. [hangs head] I'm currently in the town library bumming one of their archaic computers.

Acid Reign: See, no bloody mess a la Malik or Ryou. [grins] To make up for that, the wonderfully thick trio has to figure out which one is facing the real Yami. [sings] Will the Real Slim Yami please stand up? ^)^ But, thank you so much for the fan art! It's so pretty! Domo arigatou!

Sailor Comet:[giggles] I'm mean to Ryou, but I wouldn't go so far as to have him glomp… Scratch that, I would go that far. :] But, I'm not letting anyone off easy 'cause you've all gotta figure out which Yami is the real Yami. XP

Shade Azuna: Out of one problem and into another! [grins] I love screwing around with everyone's head. (ie: Malik, Ryou, and Bakura. The readers are an added bonus! XD j/k) So, it's now out of the frying pan and into the fire for our lovable idiots! [cackles]

blu chocobo: Everyone's confused right now! Total chaos, just the way I like it. [grins and giggles] But, I'm not going to reveal whose who until the very last second! :] I'm just that evil!

Roen: Yes, I am incredibly sadistic and lovin' every second of it! But, don't rip your hair out, that's a definite fashion don't. But yeah, I won't deny it, Marik's taking a one-way trip to Hell, but not until the very last second. [grins] So far, you're rooting for the winning team, that's all I'll say. ^)~

Akuro: Wheee! I have people trying to pull their hair out and stab their computers! [cackles insanely] I'm gonna make sure this next trailer's good and suspenseful. :] There's much embellishment, but I'm basing Malik and Bakura on their interaction with each other in Battle City. It's… interesting. And yes, smart Ryou is sexy! ^)^

Marik-and-Sanshin: ^)^ Arigatou! I hope I've still got your curiosity piqued still; I love keeping people in suspense! I'm glad you've enjoyed the chaos!

Elle-FeTe2x1: Arigatou! It's good to know I'm still drawing in new people! [grins] If it's Hell to write twenty-two chapter, I can only imagine what reading it's like. ^)^U

Jantra: Hee hee! Arigatou! The traps are so fun to come up with! :] But, I get my inspiration from a lot of places. Mainly the Egyptian arc in the manga and the Japanese version of the show. [shrugs] Some silly shit from my life's thrown in, along with some personal theories and viola! Instant catastrophe!

not telling!: How can I be so cruel? [grins] It's easy, start typing and don't think about it at all! [looks down] Hopefully I did I good enough job with the trailer. ^)^U

Sam: Domo arigatou! [grins] It's so nice to know that I'm not making a total ass out of myself with the characters! I hope to see you around and that you enjoyed this chapter. ^)^

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Chapter Twenty-Three Trailer:

"Your father's debts became yours when he died," Bakura shot back. Sadly, the more time he spent in this room, he more he started to remember about his past life. The one thing that stuck out most brilliantly in his mind was that Marik was in his life first, as a friend as well as a lover.

Yami had only been a fluke and that knowledge tore Bakura's heart up mercilessly.

Yami shook his head sadly. "But I'm dead as well. Any debts I held are millennia dead. Besides, more then just your life was destroyed."

Bakura snorted. "You were Pharaoh, of course you destroyed more then just one person."

The Puzzle guardian smirked. "But, enough reminiscing. How are we going to end this struggle?"

"There is no struggle!" Bakura exploded. "Yeah, I said I loved you, but..."

"Mahaado was there first."

The snow haired thief looked like he had just been smacked. "H-How did you know Marik's real name?"

"He was a Priest of mine. I should know those who served under me." Yami shrugged. "Marik did, Seto did, Malik's father and sister did, even the elusive Shadii did. They all served me unerringly... Well, Mahaado was always a problem child, bringing street trash in all the time."

Bakura snarled. "Enough, Yami. I don't know what's gotten into you, but I'm pretty sure I can beat it out." To enforce his point, the Ring Spirit brought his makeshift weapon up.

Yami merely chuckled, waving his hand casually. With the gesture came a wave of sweeping power that knocked Bakura to the floor before forcing him into an opposing wall. "You can't do anything against me. You are a fiend, but I am a god. Your days will be sadly numbered if you try anything."

Bakura growled. "What in the Hell's that supposed to mean?"

"You won't live long enough to find out, I'm afraid."

"But you just said-"

"I changed my mind."

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