A/N: *gets pelted with rotten fruit and vegetables* Augh! Augh! Okay, okay, okay! New chappie sooner than usual! Actually, I'm trying to get to a certain point before New Year's. If I make it to that goal, I'll let you all know. And then we can celebrate both New Year's and my accomplishment. Yay.

Wolf: Well, yes, Millennium Shield is a very nice card IRL. I hope to have it someday. Anybody out there with one willing to trade me for it?

Skraku: *turns from blue to purple* Allrighty, my friend, I think you made your point. I'll have to write more evil cliffies. Trust me, there WILL be more. But before they come out, I'm gonna have to make sure your hands are occupied!

Monica: Nitpicking is acceptable. And since you didn't hurt me, I won't hurt you. Sound fair?

Ankhutenshi: Augh, that's the worst threat possible, coming from you! Will this chapter make it better?

Penny: Continuation! Good?

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Kyle held up the shield by its outline, held it between himself and the gun barrel, as if by some miraculous happenstance, the gold of the shield was strong enough (and the strength in his arms great enough) to deflect a bullet.

Suddenly, a great light emanated from the shield, so very brilliant that both Kyle and Rieger cried out at the sight of it and turned away from it. Kyle clenched his eyelids shut, but it wasn't enough to block out the light, it was too bright, too bright–

The light faded, leaving both Kyle and Rieger blind. Kyle shuffled around, clawing toward the boulder – lemme just get back through, all I need to do is get out of here...

Clank.

Kyle frowned. His right arm had been flailing about, searching for some sort of purchase, and it had abruptly stopped in midair, held back by something. He pulled his arm back and struck out harder with it this time.

CLANK.

His frown grew deeper, and he reached over with his left hand to find out what was going on here–

Wait a minute. I'm reaching over... with my other hand? Wasn't I holding that shield?

He tried to touch his right arm, but found that a slab of something cold and metallic was blocking it. His eyes grew wide as he realized what it was. The shield's on my arm now. How the hell did it get there? He moved his arm around. And why doesn't it weigh anything? I can't even feel anything there...

He flipped his right arm over, palm up, and touched it carefully. There were now two thick leather straps tightly encircling his forearm – one just below his elbow, one around his wrist. There seemed to be no buckle to either one, and when he felt along the straps, he could find no bolts or any other method to account for the straps' connection to the shield. It was almost as if the straps had somehow been... melted or merged with the interior side.

An earsplitting sound resounded within the cavern. It was the crackling, crunching, scraping sound of rock against rock, stone against stone.

Another bright light appeared within the space. Kyle looked up at it–

It looked like a statue of brick. Its limbs, its torso, its head were all blockish... cubes of perfectly cut stone. Right down to the fingers on its gigantic hands, everything was cubic, precise.

And in the center of the square headpiece was a carving of a single, massive eye. It was from this eye that the light was pouring out.

Kyle stared into it, confused. You... you're familiar... but from where?

The dream.

The square eye.

Coincidence?

These thoughts never reached his lips. Because the statue was no longer a statue. It was a living thing.

It was moving. That was where the rock-crunching sound was coming from; as impossible as it seemed, the sound was coming from this statue that was moving.

As if it were alive.

And the more Kyle stared at it, the more he became convinced – it was.

It bent over slightly – though how this was possible for a pile of bricks, Kyle had no clue – and stared down at the shield in his hands.

The shield began to glow again. This time, it was only the front of it, but Kyle knew that it was glowing from the way the light was being projected onto the statue, as well as Rieger.

Rieger...

Rieger was simply standing there, mouth agape, just as unsure as Kyle was of what to make of the situation. His gun was lying discarded on the cavern floor; presumably he'd dropped it on sight of the creature that now stood before them both. He was frozen in place, just standing there against the wall.

Kyle dared to peer over the top edge of the shield, to see what was going on. He was almost blinded, but he could make out some sort of eye-shaped symbol across the front, similar to the eye that adorned the head of the statue-creature.

Abruptly, the statue looked back at Kyle, and then raised one of its massive fists.

Kyle flinched and leapt to one side, hoping to avoid the blow–

The fist shattered the boulder behind him into a million pieces. Kyle could hear the men screaming – surprised, I'll bet, maybe they got hit with rock-shrapnel – and he felt like joining them, but he knew it would ultimately be a useless and pointless endeavor. He hadn't yet been harmed, though there certainly seemed to be plenty of opportunities for that at this point.

Rieger began to shout incoherently, and he reached down for his gun.

The statue spun around, faster than Kyle would have thought possible, and smacked Rieger aside with its massive, blocky hand. Kyle heard an awful squishing noise, something he instinctively clenched his eyes shut against.

At that point, his legs seemed to do all the thinking for him. He got to his feet and ran out of there as fast as he possibly could, tripping over rocks and fallen men along the way, but never stopping, never stopping.

Behind him, he could hear loud crunching noises, and he glanced over his shoulder.

The statue was pounding its fists against the ceiling of the cave.

His eyes widened. It's going to collapse the cave on top of all those people... when it was just Rieger and maybe a crony or two who were the guilty ones... I'll bet they didn't know, either, just like I didn't...

He wanted to go back, as insane as the thought was, and try to get some of the men out before their doom arrived, but his legs wouldn't cooperate. He continued to run, faster and faster, until he was completely out of the cave and just beyond the tent where they kept all their tools.

He heard the unmistakable sound of the ceiling of the cave falling in on itself, and he simply watched in horror as a cloud of dust was violently expelled from the mouth of the cave.

For several moments, Kyle could hear nothing except the sound of his own ragged breathing. His eyes scanned the mouth of the cave, searching desperately for any survivors; he wanted to approach, but again, his legs confounded this intent by locking the knees and then turning to jelly.

He saw movement.

One man. Then two, and then three. Crawling on hands and knees, making their way out of the cave. Bloody, clothes ripped.

But alive.

Steadily, more men came out; each successive one was worse off than the last, but they were all still breathing and mobile.

Rieger was not among them.

Kyle felt himself begin to shudder. He shuddered uncontrollably and sank to his knees.

A man just died... and I was right there...

I have to get out of here...

He looked back up at the men, the tent, the cave. Abruptly, he knew exactly what he had to do – like it was another kind of premonition or intuition. Control of his legs seemed to return to him, and he raced into the tent and grabbed the shirt he'd left there, frowning as he did so. How very odd, to worry about my shirt when a man died... and especially when I've got this shield stuck on my–

The shield wasn't on his arm anymore.

He scowled. Where did that damned thing go?! Can't it decide where to put itself–?

His necklace felt heavier. He growled and looked down at it. Rocks catching in it or–

Oh. What the hell?

Next to the scarab on the necklace, there now sat a miniature version of the shield he'd been wearing just moments before.

The intuition hit him again. Don't worry about it now, I can figure it all out later, just get out, GET OUT...

His eyes flickered to the dune buggies. There were four of them, plenty enough for him to make off with one in order to get back to the city.

This is insane, he thought, as he got behind the wheel of one of the buggies. It still had the key inserted in the ignition. Completely insane. Go back to the city and everything will be okay? How naive is that?

But that didn't stop him from taking off.

--

It was well past the time his parents had set for him to get back to the van. He didn't have a watch with him, so he couldn't know for sure what time it was, except to say that it was sundown – the sun's last rays over the horizon were vanishing even now.

He left the buggy behind and wiped his fingerprints off the wheel. Whoever had it before would surely be looking for it, and even if it had belonged to Rieger, someone would be liable to try and track down who had their hands on it... He shook his head vigorously. Too much to think about, too much to think about... just get back, back into the safety of others, get out of here, get home...

He frowned at himself again. Okay, now that's REALLY naive. Since when the hell do I start thinking like that? It's like I was a little kid or something...

Shock. It must be shock. And going into denial. Wouldn't doubt it. After all, whoever sees a statue come to life and stays stable?

Then again... who's to say just what the hell I saw, anyway? Rieger and I were the only ones back there. The cave could have collapsed on its own. But how would I explain the lights? The flashlight, maybe? Some trick it was playing on us. Scaring the hell out of both of us – I dunno anyone who isn't jumpy when a gun is involved – and then boom! The cave falls down.

So how do I explain the shield? Necklace? Shield? Bleh. Hallucinations, all of them. Yep, that's right, I hallucinated the entire thing.

Damn it, I need some sleep.

He did the only thing he really felt he could do.

He flagged a cab.

--

When he trudged through the door, he found his parents were sitting on their bed, cheerfully watching some random chick flick on an equivalent to Pay Per View. His father looked over at him, perhaps intent on giving him a disapproving glare for being late... or perhaps not, but whatever he was planning to do, he abruptly stopped when he saw the ashen look on his son's face. "Kyle? Is something wrong?"

"Uh." Kyle took a moment to remember how to speak. Then he shook his head slowly. "Nah. Nothing. Just tired. Mind's playing tricks on me."

"You need some sleep, son."

Kyle would have scoffed, except he felt too worn out to do so. Instead, he simply nodded and fell atop his bed.

He was asleep before he even struck the covers.

--

Needless to say, Kyle stayed with his parents over the remaining days of their vacation – stayed very close to them, even though that wasn't at all where he wanted to be. In the markets he would hear muttering and whispering, and occasionally the name "Rieger" would pop up. That was on local television, as well as on the tongues of the locals and the tourists.

His body had been found in the wreckage of that cave, after a couple of the men that had been working there had chosen to answer to their consciences and tell the authorities everything. Among other things, his gun was found there, as well, and apparently the weapon had been fired at least once; a single bullet was missing from the clip.

On this news, Kyle couldn't help but shudder. And to think that bullet might have hit me...

The reports were saying that perhaps it was the concussion of the gunshot that had caused the collapse. The ceiling of the cave had still been very unstable, they said, and was just waiting for something to give out. Thus the gunshot might have caused an avalanche effect.

Only one of the men who'd come forward had known he had the gun with him. It was an unregistered piece, and it became rather clear what Rieger's true intent was. According to the witness, he'd purposely called out people who looked as though they had little better to do, and then planned to get rid of them in order to get all the riches to himself and his cohort by selling their findings on the black market.

The ones who came forward apparently were intent on taking the blame off the others, who hadn't known anything about Rieger's plans. They claimed they were the only ones involved. But despite this, Kyle hoped he wouldn't have the distinct misfortune to run across any of those men in the exhibits or marketplaces.

He tried his best not to pay too much attention to those reports. He feigned disinterest. His father mentioned it once while they were at an exhibit, but only for a few moments. "Did you hear about those men out at the cliffside about twenty miles away from the outskirts? Tragic. I don't know what they were expecting to find in a cave like that; did they really think the ancient Egyptians would be foolish enough to go traipsing into such a dangerous place as that? Surely they had more sense."

"Yeah, sure," Kyle said, in a distracted manner. His eyes darted through the collections of jewel-encrusted gold pieces hidden under bulletproof glass. Sure they did... those skeletons in there are proof of that, aren't they?

No more was said about it, though. For this, at least, Kyle was grateful.

--

When they arrived at the airport to return to the U.S., Kyle felt the weight on his shoulders lessen somewhat. Now I'll be far, far away from here... and hopefully I'll never have to come back.

But when he passed through the metal detectors, he was told to go back and remove all metal items from his person. He frowned. What do I–? Oh. Yeah. The necklace. He obediently removed the necklace, as well as some spare change he'd not bothered to convert to Egyptian money, and passed through the detector again. This time he was allowed to go through unhindered.

Almost as if on instinct, though, his hand shot out to the necklace and swept it up almost before anyone had a chance to see what it really was. His mother had caught a glimpse of it, however, and she watched Kyle curiously as he put it back on. "Those pendants are pretty, Kyle. Did you decide gold was more your color than silver and black?"

"Um?" Kyle glanced down at his necklace, which had both the scarab and the small, shield-like piece hanging side-by-side. He blinked for a moment, then said, "Yeah, sure. Gold's a good color. Looks good against a black shirt."

"That it does," she agreed, smiling.

He noticed the smile, and frowned slightly. "What?"

"Oh, nothing."

He blinked again, then shrugged. "If you say so."

They made their way through the terminal and waited to board the plane.

--

The return flight seemed both faster and slower than the flight to Egypt. It seemed faster in that Kyle chose to get some sleep during the flight to England, and ended up snoozing most of the way there. What time he didn't spend snoozing, he spent watching the in-flight movie. Ironically, it was Raiders of the Lost Ark, at which he could only roll his eyes, at first. Like fate was conspiring against me or something. Oh, well. Might do better with some popcorn.

After the movie was over, Kyle began to rummage through his carry-on. If I don't find something else to do, Dad'll go on yet another rant about my future, and I'd just as soon avoid that, thank you very much...

Sure enough, his father poked him in the side. "So, Kyle, have you given any more thought to what college you'll be attending?"

"Not really," Kyle said bluntly, as he grabbed his writing notebook.

"You ought to. Time's wasting away, and colleges like Oxford or Harvard or Yale won't hold their doors open forever."

"I'm not entirely sure why you think I'm looking at those colleges," Kyle responded.

"Why wouldn't you be?"

"Because those places are massively expensive and I don't have the money to go through their education programs." Kyle opened his notebook and grabbed a pen.

"Come now, Kyle, you know we would pay whatever fees are left over from the absence of scholarship money."

"Maybe," he conceded. "But if you'll excuse me, I've got something I'd rather be doing than talking about college right now."

"Such as?" his father sniffed.

"Writing."

"Kyle..."

He didn't look at his father, but his tone spoke the volumes that a facial expression left out. "Please, just leave me alone for once, okay? I don't want to talk about this now, and the more you talk about it, the more I'm going to close my ears to it anyway. You know that already."

His father frowned, but he went silent.

Kyle sighed. "If it makes you feel any better, I've been looking at colleges. I'll let you know if I need any help, but so far, I'm doing just fine on my own. So don't worry about it. I just would prefer not to discuss it now."

His father stared at him a few seconds more in incredulity, but when his son gave no indication that he was going to give any further response to his expression, he nodded once, slowly, and then turned his attention to one of the plane's magazines.

Kyle spent several minutes writing before he realized something very strange about the conversation he'd just had with his father.

He blinked at the strangeness of it, several times. Hm. How about that.

Then he turned back to his writing.

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I hope this wasn't as evil a cliffie as before. Can you figure out what was so strange about Kyle's conversation? If you know and you tell me the correct answer, you'll get kudos in the next chappie! Next up, Kyle starts down a path somewhat different from before... with some unexpected help. Stay tuned! Please review!