Yugiou was written and created by Kazuki Takahashi. It's licensed by Viz LLC, and Shonen Jump under Kanakashi(sp?) publishing who owns the right to Weekly Shonen Jump. All new characters are my creations and if you want to use them please ask me. Thank you.

AN: I had another story up but I realized it needs work and to understand that story you have to start at the beginning of all this. So without further adieu, may I present to you

The New Chronicles of Yugiou.

Duel 0: Egyptian Nights

Egypt. Exactly two months after the fateful duel between Yuugi and Pharaoh Atem in the dead of night an excavation team has finally broken through to the remains of the underground temple where the doors to the afterlife lay closed for all eternity. The work men, some in dress native to their home land, others in western jeans and shirts, move rubble from the hole in the earth where the items have fallen.

The men seem nervous; their eyes dart from side to side as if trying to see a hidden enemy in the shadows. Standing near the back of the workers, a man with brown hair and glasses reads over a chart. His brown eyes linger on photos that were taken days before and he tries to identify the images. He moves his fingers over the words again and again, and scowls.

"This makes no sense," the man huffs to his translator, and plays with a button on his polo shirt. "Why is it that we haven't found anything?"

"Professor Bricken's these things take time, and we are doing this illegally. Were we given proper authority we wouldn't have need to dig in the middle of the night. It is going far faster then I expected. The men have made such head way." The interpreter stated and scratched his gray beard.

Bricken cleared his throat and adjusted his glasses, "Well that might be your feeling, Abasi, but I do not share your enthusiasm."

"Why?" Abasi asked and Bricken snorted.

"The man that's paying for this, all of it, has made it clear that if we don't find the items by tonight he may just bury us all here to join this Pharaoh that he's lusting after."

"Mr. Drakon," Abasi said slowly forming each syllable of the man's name. "He is a strange one in your country?"

Brickens slapped the notebook shut. "You could say that. He's quite an enigma. He never really explained to me why he wanted to dig up this place. But when he told me that I would have the chance to become better known then Hawkins, and might put that old goat in his grave with this discovery, I jumped at the chance."

"Sir Sir!" a worker rushed over suddenly, waving his hands wildly, sweat pouring from his face. He bended forward and cupped his knees with his hands to catch his breath.

"Jahi, what is it?" Abasi asked in his native Arabic. The man coughed and panted then spoke slowly.

"We found something sir. A pit, a large pit. Come see!"

"What is it?" asked Brickens who could tell by the way the man was waving animatedly that something important had happened. "Was there a collapse?"

"No, no, they found a pit sir." Abasi assured him and clasped him on the shoulder pulling him slightly. "Come we should follow him. Jahi will lead the way."

Brickens nodded and followed them. He had been canvassing the underground temple for the longest time, in hopes of discovering some clue to the true nature of the place. Images on the wall were unusual hieroglyphics of monsters at all stages of maturity and size. Some were beautiful creatures, with wings of angels; others were demonic creatures that looked more at home in hell then inside a sacred temple. Eyes narrowed, and chin tucked to his chest, Brickens followed the two Egyptian men to the far end of the temple. He stopped dead when he saw the large pit that split the floor. Ropes had been hung down and he barely made out the light of some of the men brave enough to venture down into the darkness.

Something seized his chest as he looked down into the shadows. Something heavy and oppressive squeezed at his lungs, so hard he found it difficult to draw a breath. Brickens backed away, near some of the men who seemed frightened by the pit. They were murmuring of a killer that dwelled in there.

"What? What are they saying, Abasi?" the young professor asked and Abasi asked one man what they were talking about. He listened quietly and frowned as the man explained. Brickens apprehension did not quell as he saw Abasi's look change from puzzlement to out right terror, then quickly went to the pit and called down to the men to come back up.

"What is it!" screamed Brickens and grabbed Abasi by the shoulder. The translator looked frightened and spoke in a hallowed voice.

"They said that the voices of the dead cry for vengeance from inside there. They have heard stories of men that encountered a demon, a thief that once roamed this desert. He was a killer, and they fear that his spirit will kill their friends.

"We found something," a heavily accented voice called from the depths. "Pull us up!"

Brickens's fear numbed slightly at this announcement. He waved to one of the cowering men. "The fastest one of you, which is the fastest among you?"

Abasi repeated it in Arabic for those who didn't understand English.

"I sir," a boy wearing a scarf to cover most of his face, brown long sleeves and kaki pants, called out. He approached Brickens when waved over, and some of his blonde hair stuck out from under the cover. His eyes were a light lilac, sharp, unflinching. They were, as one man remarked of him, 'The eyes of a weary merchant who had seen the horrors of the world and committed too many sins.' Brickens saw none of this, nodded to the boy and said quickly, "Do you understand English?"

"Yes." The boy replied, his soft voice stifling the blows that his eyes cast when they fell upon Brickens's face.

"Good, I want you to run to the main camp, it's not too far from here, as fast as your legs can carry you and tell Mr. Drakon, that we've found something. If he doesn't believe you tell him Brickens can attest to the discovery and that he should come at once," Brickens slapped the boy on the shoulder, "Is that clear?"

"Yes." The boy said once more, turned and exited the temple. Abasi watched him cautiously as he left.

"Sir, I have a strange feeling about that boy, there is something dangerous about him."

"No more dangerous then Mr. Drakon, he's a fire breather that one. I wouldn't trust him with my life." Brickens told his interpreter and wandered back over to gaze into the pit. "I hope they hurry, we don't have time to waste."

"Sir, if they should find anything," Abasi said quietly, "I don not wish to touch it sir."

"Fine, fine," Brickens motioned to him as he moved away again from the dark pit feeling sick to his stomach again.

Deep into the darkness the boy darted, not daring to take off his veil, it would take him to long to put it back on again. He shuddered at the thought of what might happen if his face was seen. He knew very little about the man he was about to meet, but he had heard rumors. Rumors of nightly digging in the valley and of men speaking of monsters in the dark, most were far fetched fables, but even he knew that some lies held an ounce of truth. If someone was digging near the temple, he thought at the time, than it had to be someone who wanted the items that were buried below there.

His pharaoh, his family, could be in danger if anyone were to discover the temple and find the items. His fears had silenced him from his brother and sister; he needed proof first before he could explain things to them. He pushed through the sand, bracing his calves to the pain they were enduring. If this was what it took to learn the truth, then so be it. After all he had dealt with far worse then some pain in his legs.

He could feel the sweat rises as droplets on his back and soak his shirt. The boy reminded himself to take a long bath after this was over, his sister would insist upon it. Licking his wet lips, he halted by the camp and took a long needed breath. He'd seen this place before at a distance. His inquiries in town about where to make a good amount of pay had led him here, and he watched the camp from a high sand dune. But now, he was going inside the camp itself, and he prayed to Horus that he would come out standing, not in a body bag.

Willing his body not to tremble, he marched into the camp and asked in Arabic where Mr. Drakon was. He knew already that the man he was looking for was in a large tent on the far side of the camp. He'd seen him from his hiding spot, never his face, but he knew he was a westerner by the way he dressed. The boy didn't want to arouse suspicion by seeming to know where a man of powers home was. After all here he was a lowly massager, and that was the part he had to play.

The worker he asked pointed him to the tent, and he paid him for his information. Better to keep the man from turning on him later if things didn't work out. The boy dashed to the tent, and wiped his feet before entering. He bowed to two Arabian guards that held guns, and said, "I'm here to see Mr. Drakon. I am to give him a message from Professor Brickens about the excavation."

The guards waved him in, and the young man paced his steps inside. Not to quickly, that would make it seem like he was overly anxious to see Drakon, and might arouse the guards into thinking the boy had more then just a message to give. After all children were used as human bombs, so it was a logical assumption to shoot first and question the corpse later. But if he walked to slow that would also cause the guards to believe he was lying and they would stop him from going in, and might just shoot him if they removed his scarf. So he kept a smooth pace and soon found himself face to face with the man named Drakon.

He was a tall man, and slender, dressed in a loose white shirt that was opened to show some of his chest. As far as the boy could tell, the kaki pants and loose shirt hid the man's muscles, and his long frame reminded the boy of a cobra. Mr. Drakon pushed back his thick blond hair, before putting a camel colored fedora, and stood up, bowing some to the boy, who returned the gesture, and smiled. The smile, the boy noted, did not meet his coal black eyes, which drew in the light and never let it escape. It gave the boy the chills, but he held his ground.

"And what honor have I that a fine young man such as you would honor my presents," Drakon said in a voice that was surprisingly sweet, and kind, and the young man wasn't sure if he was being serious or mocking him. Treating it as the former, to keep his cool, the young messenger bowed again and said quickly.

"Mr. Drakon, Professor Brickens requests your presents at the dig. They have found something there, and he believes that you should be present for it's unveiling."

Drakon tilted his head, then poured some white wine into a glass and held it out to the boy, "Drink? You must be thirsty."

The boy waved away the spirits, "Water if you have it."

Drakon smiled, "A man of morals, I see."

If only you knew, the young man thought and bit his lip, then said, "Will you come?"

Drakon took a long sip of his white wine, and smiled, "In a bit. Tell me something. Do you know what they found?"

"No," the boy admitted, though he had a hunch with the way the men were whispering. "I only know that it was something that made the Professor ask for me to fetch you. And I wish to be paid for this task. If I don't bring you, I won't be paid."

Drakon smiled, "Worried about your family?"

"No, worried about myself," the boy lied. He knew what men like Drakon wanted to hear. Being selfish would be a good thing to them. Drakon's smile tightened some, as if he was trying hard not to laugh at his own private joke.

"As you wish." The boy took a moment to observe the inside of the tent. Drakon had several tables set up, with a few chairs, several different maps of Egypt's valleys covered the walls, along with a cot for sleeping, though it looked like it had not been used. There were also hanging lamps for light, and some computer equipment in the corner. The boy wondered if he would have time to come back and check what was on the hard drives.

"Simple isn't it," Drakon commented and smirked. "I like to travel light. Makes it easier to leave."

Drakon finished the last of his wine and stood up, grabbing a coat that hung down to his waist, and slipped it on. He glanced at the boy, "Shall we go, then?"

The young man nodded and followed the taller man to a waiting jeep. The driver eyed him hostility, but Drakon waved him to dive as the young man sat beside him. The ride was a silent one, Drakon kept looking ahead, whatever he was staring at the young man could not translate. He swallowed some, the tension mounting as they neared the excavation, would they find him out. If Drakon knew, he wasn't indicating that he did. Pulling up to the site, one of the workers rushed up to them, and chattered in Arabic to Drakon who understood. One thing the young man gave Drakon credit for, was that he mastered languages at a rapid pace. He couldn't have been in Egypt very long, and already he had an excellent handle on the native slang.

The young man followed Drakon down inside the temple, and felt the knots in his stomach clench. He walked over to Brickens and pointed, "I brought him."

"You're late," Brickens hissed, and threw him half his pay. The young man didn't care about the money, but he couldn't just take what he got, it would look suspicious, yet making too much of a fuss would also draw the wrong sort of attention.

"I deserve an extra five dollars," the young man stated, "I had to wait for Mr. Drakon."

Brickens looked at Drakon, who just nodded, and the Professor gave him another five dollars to the fifteen he already had. The boy pocked it, and went back into the crowd of workers who were now near the exit. He watched with them as Drakon walked over to the pit, and held his breath.

"So what did you find?" Drakon asked Brickens as he looked down into the pit.

"We're not sure Deacon," admitted Brickens, and Drakon gave him a glare that could have stripped his flesh from his bone. Brickens quickly back peddled, "I mean Mr. Drakon, Sir."

Drakon nodded slowly, and cast his eyes down into the darkness. "Someone's gone down there?"

"Yes," Bricken explained to him about the workers fears and Drakon smirked.

"They're right to be scared. The way those objects were created, is it any wonder that they're scared?"

"Created?" Brickens asked puzzled, "How do you mean created?"

Drakon met his eyes, and the smile became darker, harsh and evil, "By the blood of ninety-nine men, women and children. Their bodies were boiled down into a soup and then mixed with sacred gold to cast the items."

Brickens paled, "But…I thought that they were just cast, then cursed."

"How do you think the curse came about?" Drakon laughed and Brickens took a step back from the taller man. He swallowed, and started rethinking working for this excavation. Drakon wasn't being serious, people killed, and boiled so that seven items of the Millennium could be created. It was a harsh thing to grasp, beyond barbaric, especially if they were innocent.

Shouts from below caught Brickens attention, and he looked to Abasi who seemed quiet and worried. "What now?"

"They found something."

"One thing." Drakon looked annoyed, and waved the men, shouting in Arabic, his voice hard and barking orders. "Pull them up!"

"Yes," the men replied and started to work the cranes that drew the men in the pit up to the surface.

"Faster," Drakon commanded. From where he stood the young man could hear the excitement in Drakon's voice, and it made him more anxious. Brickens could see Drakon's eyes, the jet black was shining with a frightening light, and they seemed to grow wider as one of the men came close to the top of the pit. As the worker reached the top, Brickens and could see that he was holding a gold ring with several daggers hanging down, and a pyramid with the eye of Horus in the center. Something in the back of Brickens mind began to reel. There was something dark, dangerous about that ring, and he didn't want anything to do with it.

Drakon reached out and took the ring in his hands, and smiled softly, "Well we at last meet."

The worker was still holding the rope as the other men came up. One talked in soft tones to Abasi who nodded and went to Brickens. "Ebo says that there was signs of another person down there before they came down. He thinks they took the other items that were down there."

"Are you certain?" Brickens's looked alarmed, and noticed that Drakon was looking at them.

"The other items?" He inquired.

"Gone," Abasi told him and Drakon looked at the worker that was still holding the rope of the ring. He pulled some at it, but the man did not let go. From where he stood the young man could feel the energy of the ring still beating, but it was weak, and that made him feel safer. Abasi saw a look grow in Drakon's eyes, and tapped the worker on the shoulder.

"Leave it go," he insisted, but the worker shook his head. His eyes were glazed over in a look of mania, and Abasi moved back, fearful of the man.

"No, mine," the man said and pulled his knife intent on killing Drakon. The motion was too fast for the young man to catch it, but Bricken gasped out in horror, as did several other workers. Drakon had grabbed the man's wrist and snapped it, pulling the dagger from him he slit the man from the neck down. The worker screamed, and Drakon pressed the ring to the mans bloody chest. The ring glowed brightly and the man screamed as if being burned by a thousand fires, and Drakon watched calmly as the blood seeped into the ring, making it radiate bright gold. The young man suddenly bolted from the scene as other worker cried out seeing their comrade reduced to ash before their eyes.

Outside the young man ran as far as he could from the excavation site, making sure the driver didn't see the way he was going and, once far enough away, ducked behind a dune to catch his breath. He stripped off the head wrap, and tied it around his waist. In the cool night of the desert he wiped his tan face and cast his lilac colored eyes into the stars. His blonde hair was slicked with sweat, but he still had to move, this was too important. The ring had been brought back, and a man had just been killed before his eyes. The other items were missing, and he could feel in his gut that no good would come from any of this.

He prayed silently that his sister and brother would listen to him and believe him. Getting up he made his way to a long rode where he parked his bike. Climbing on he let out a deep breath. He thought his hell was over, that with the items buried he could start his life over.

"No rest for the tomb keepers," he muttered, and revved his bike, sending it down the dusty highway.

"Sir, we can't find the boy!" shouts came from outside. Drakon crouch over the pit, dangling the ring down, and stared with a smirk on his face over at Brickens who was on the other side looking scared.

"So Malik Ishtar escaped. Oh well."

"Ishtar?" Brickens asked and Drakon nodded.

"The brother of Isis Ishtar, a well known political figure here. She's been working on the conservation of the tombs here in Egypt." He smirked, "Her brother was here spying on us, and it seems he knows quiet a bit."

"But…but…what do we do now if they find us! The workers, they'll talk." Brickens said and Drakon smiled

"What workers?" He stood up and looked at the ring, wrapping it in a black cloth of silk, and headed for the exit. Brickens followed him, as the other men were cleaning up, Abasi right behind him. The sun was rising now, casting a harsh red light over the desert, making it become a sea of blood. "The workers that are right now cleaning up!"

Drakon turned and smiled again, the cold look in his eyes made Brickens stop. "What are you thinking Drakon?" The look changed, and it dawned upon Brickens. "You…you mean to murder these men? I can't let you do that! It's wrong it's…"

Drakon looked to Abasi who seemed conflicted. He said, "Just let me get the younger men out if you intend to…"

"I don't think so," Drakon hissed, then pulled out a small pistol and shot Abasi through the back between his shoulders. The translator tumbled head over heels and came to a stop at the bottom of the stairway with a sickening crunch. The shouts of the men below mixed with the surprise shout of horror from Brickens. Before he could protest, Drakon shot him through the chest too, and Brickens fell back into the temple. Some workers charged up, but were shocked when several armed men stood at the entrance and forced them back down.

Drakon got in the jeep, and looked at the leader of the armed men, "Bury them. I want it to look like nothing ever happened on that spot."

"Yes sir!" said the leader and Drakon drove off. Far from the temple, he pulled out his cell phone and called the camp. Here another man answered, "Sir?"

"Are the maps and other items I brought with me secured?"

"Yes Sir, they're on the plane, and we're ready to go." said the man. Drakon smiled.

"Excellent, burn the camp. Leave nothing behind."

"Yes Sir."

Drakon hung up chuckling. His smile only grew as he got to the small airstrip where his private jet was waiting, and he boarded his plane. Touching his newly acquired prize in his pocket he thought of the boy that had come to fetch him.

We will meet again Malik Ishtar. We surely will meet again.

The plane took off, and nearing Cairo, Malik felt something in his heart clench hard. He had to jam on his breaks to keep from crashing. Throwing off his helmet, Malik watched the skies and felt a chill run through his blood. Something evil was coming, and he just prayed that the Pharaohs vestal was up to the challenge of stopping it on his own.

In Domino City Japan, Yuugi Mutou woke up alarmed from the nightmare he had been having. Gripping the covers with his fists, he took some deep breaths and looked out the window. The street was deserted, and yet he had felt like something had been watching him, and laughing at him. Whatever it was, he would have to face it, something inside him was telling him that it would be up to him to stop it.

At the same time Ryou Bakura shut the cold water off in his shower, and sat on the floor, in his pjs sopping wet. His other half, the voice, the thief, had come back into his mind, haunting his dreams. He sat back, remembering the face, remembering the fear that plagued him and for a moment he saw blood on his hands. Covering his face, he prayed silently that it was just bad dreams, but something in his gut told him other wise. If whatever was coming wanted him to become the thief again, they would be surprised, he wasn't going to be a pawn anymore. Even if it meant taking on the thief himself.