Chapter Seven

The entity struggled desperately, trying with all its might to extricate itself from the bubble it had found itself in. It clawed viciously at the substance, looking terrified, and then tried in vain to spread open what appeared to be two shadowy wings on its back—but there was not enough room to accomplish this and it finally had to concede defeat.

"Where am I? Please, let me out! Where did you go? Why am I here all alone? I don't want to be alone! I've never been alone before. . . . Why now? WHY NOW?"

It continued to cry out pitifully, banging against the bubble until it realized it was no use. There was no one around to help it. Upon realizing this, it curled up in a tight ball, wrapping its wings around itself and weeping softly.

Alister gasped, startling himself awake and falling out of the windowseat to land with a loud and unceremonious crash on the carpeted floor. Slowly he tried to get his bearings, focusing on the room and its furnishings as he became more acquainted with being awake. At last he pulled himself into a sitting position, his heart still racing wildly. It had only been a dream, but it had felt so real. He had felt as if he knew the being trapped within the bubble, even though he knew that he actually did not.

"What was that?" he muttered to himself. "That's not like any dream I've had before."

He thought back on the creature he had only vaguely seen. It seemed to be humanoid, and the voice had sounded soft, yet masculine, but beyond that he had not been able to see many of its features. One thing he was certain of was that it had been frightened. But who it was calling out to, and why it was in a bubble, were mysteries.

Though . . . after souls were captured, and held in a holding area for a certain period of time, they were sent into another realm—a realm of bubbles, where they would be fed to the Leviathan. Alister remembered that from when he and the others had been victims during the original Doom era. What if the being in his dream was being held prisoner in that way? Though that still did not explain who it was, nor why Alister was dreaming about it—him.

He wished that the practice of souls being captured was simply a thing of the past. But with Doom Reborn around, he knew that anything was possible. He and the others had not heard anything concerning the organization for months, though he wondered, as did others, if they were responsible for the Duel Monsters that had been unleashed around the world. It did seem like a possibility that should not be ignored. Unfortunately, since there had been no trace of Doom Reborn anywhere, Alister did not know where to look to find answers. He could not know what Dartz had discovered, about the makeshift location for Paradius. As far as he was aware, the business had not returned as of yet, since they had not finished rebuilding the skyscraper in San Francisco.

He looked up when a shadow fell over him. Valon was standing there, looking confused. "What the heck was that all about?" he demanded. The brunette boy did not admit it, but he had been worried wondering if Rocky had broken in when he had heard the crash. Part of him, perhaps, felt slightly annoyed that he had been startled out of his reverie for a small household accident. Alister seemed to be alright, though he did look somewhat stunned and still half-asleep.

Alister grunted. "I fell down," he said flatly, momentarily forgetting in his dazed state that Valon did not remember things. It was wonderful to have him back . . . and yet, he was not truly back. He would not be until he did think of them as his friends again and recalled what they had been through.

Valon rolled his eyes. "Kinda clumsy, aren't you, mate."

Alister chose not to answer, instead pulling himself up onto the windowseat again and rubbing at his sore ankle. "Actually," he said finally, "I was asleep when it happened."

"Though," Raphael said, appearing in the doorway after overhearing the last part of the conversation, "he did get hurt in an accident the other day, when he was looking for you. His motorcycle overturned on him when a Dark Clown stepped right into the road and he had to struggle to avoid it. That's why his ankle is bothering him, just so you know." He knew that Alister would have never told Valon of that incident on his own, but Raphael had decided that it should be mentioned. He was already tired of hearing the two of them come to blows, and Valon had only been home for several hours.

Valon blinked in surprise, looking to Alister again as the redhead stretched his injured leg out on a small throw pillow. "I . . . I didn't know that," he said, seeming to be subdued for the moment. "Sorry. . . ." Yeah . . . they've gotta be on the level, he decided firmly, not wanting to change his mind again. He could not deny how at home he felt there, with them. I just wish I could remember them, for cryin' out loud!

Alister leaned back against the wall. "Don't worry about it," he responded wearily.

Rocky was undeniably angry. He and the other members of the gang had searched all around the mansion and the surrounding area, and there had been no further signs of Valon. Now he had come back to where the motorcycle tracks were and was studying them.

"Hmm . . . they're parallel with each other," he muttered, "so one wasn't followin' the other. They left together." He growled. "What's that moron up to? I've got a lot of dough riding on this." Slowly he reached into his pocket, pulling out the tattered wallet in which he kept hidden Valon's identification card. He looked over it sharply, pondering on what these strange occurrences could mean, and then narrowed his eyes.

Maybe he's been playin' me for a sap all this time, he thought, and he's really been spying on me! Maybe he's a lot smarter than I gave him credit for, and now he's havin' a rendezvous with his boss!

His crimson eye flashed with rage. No one ever played Rocky for a sap and got away with it. And yet he knew how genuinely clueless Valon had seemed when he had first regained consciousness. It had certainly seemed as though he was not faking his amnesia. But perhaps later on he had been approached by someone who wanted Valon to spy on the gang, and so he had agreed. Rocky was aware that Valon was not happy there and that he wanted to leave. He knew that the boy was smart enough not to trust any of them, even though the gang leader doubted that Valon knew that Rocky knew his real identity. If Valon had known that, Rocky was certain that he would have come to him, demanding answers.

"What's goin' on, Rocky baby?"

He turned at the sound of Angel's sultry voice. The blonde smiled, studying him and looking amused by how annoyed he looked. Then she moved closer, reaching to massage his shoulders. He let her, still glaring down at Valon's I.D. card before coming back to himself and quickly putting it away before she could get a clear view of it.

"Whoever the Aussie left with, they must've been pretty chummy," Rocky told her, indicating the tire marks in the dirt. "I wanna find out who it was and why they went off together."

Angel smirked. "Maybe he found some biker girl he liked," she suggested. "I'm sure he'll be back soon. Anyway, the house is vacant. We can start movin' in tomorrow night, just like we planned." She found that she was not that concerned about Valon's location. She doubted that the boy would tell the police about them, so she was certain that he had just gone out for a bit of fun. It made little difference to her, since she did not truly care about him anyway, and since she did not have the monetary stake in his fate that Rocky did.

"Not until we find that little brat," Rocky snapped. "There's no tellin' what he's up to."

Angel shrugged. "He'll turn up sooner or later. Don't blow a gasket worryin' about him," she smiled, giving him a wink.

Rocky grunted in reply, decidedly unamused. Idly he wondered if it was at all possible that one of Valon's friends had found him. He supposed it was a possibility, but he did not know how Valon would react to Alister or Raphael when he did not remember them at all. Valon seemed aloof and obnoxious a lot of the time, and Rocky did not imagine that Valon would treat his former friends any differently than he treated the gang members. It seemed to Rocky that Valon would be distrusting of everyone. Still, he had to wonder. . . . It bore investigating.

Morning brought with it many exhausted, irritated, and worried people. Yugi, Joey, Téa, Ryou, Serenity, Mrs. Taylor, and Solomon had not succeeded in finding any clues to Tristan's and Mrs. Kawai's whereabouts. Rocky had staked out the bikers' home, but as their motorcycles had all been taken into the garage for the night, he had not been able to see if Valon's was amongst them. In complete annoyance, he had remained in his concealed position amid the bushes, waiting to see anything that would indicate that Valon was back with the other two.

Marik had actually slept fairly well, relieved to be back in his own bed. But he was not looking forward to the meeting with Professor Hawkins that Ishizu had arranged. Around nine he had woken up hearing her conversing on the telephone with the man and scheduling a conference over lunch.

Marik wondered if he would prefer to skip it and to see how his friends were doing, instead. He had tried to call Yugi when they had finally returned home in the middle of the night, but he had only gotten an answering machine. After leaving a message, he had collapsed into bed and had instantly fallen asleep.

Now he sat up slowly, yawning as he ran a hand through his platinum blonde hair. The digital clock read 11 AM, but he was not that surprised. They had not even got home until it had been close to two, due to a road block caused by several Duel Monsters in the street. Then they had needed to unpack and spend a bit of time getting the house back in order—turning the water and gas on again and such. By the time Marik had actually laid down after having a quick shower, it had been around three.

He rubbed his eyes, muttering to himself as he threw the comforter back and stood up. He supposed he needed to see if Yugi had returned his call, and if not, he decided to simply drive over there. After the long and unusual airplane ride, he felt that bringing his motorcycle out would help him to relax. Slowly he reached for the navy blue tank top he had draped at the end of the bed and pulled it on.

As the Egyptian boy wandered out of his room and headed for the stairs, he noticed Rishid pondering in the living room. Curious, Marik went down the stairs and over to his brother, looking up at him and seeing how deep in thought he was. At last he spoke. "Rishid?"

The man started, brought out of whatever reverie he had been in. He smiled gently when he saw his younger brother. "Good morning," he greeted. "Did you sleep well?" He knew how tired Marik had been when they had finally walked through their door. Ishizu had been weary as well, but she had stayed up for a while after Marik had fallen asleep, thinking to herself about everything and desperately hoping that Professor Hawkins would have a possible solution to the worrisome problem. Rishid himself could not remember falling asleep, but he knew he had, as he had discovered not that long ago that he was waking up on the couch.

"Fairly," Marik answered, crossing his arms. "I guess Ishizu's going to speak with Professor Hawkins soon?"

Rishid nodded, not bothering to ask how Marik knew this. "She told me about the arranged meeting just a few minutes ago," he said. He was fervently hoping that if Ishizu and Professor Hawkins worked together, they would be able to figure out something that might help them. In addition, Rishid had thought over what he knew about the Paradius company and the original Doom organization. Ishizu was intrigued by how Duel Monsters had been set free during that time, and she was hoping to discover a connection between then and now. He also knew that she was hoping they could find where Dartz was staying.

Marik sighed. "I think I'll go see what's been happening with Yugi and the others," he announced then. "You don't know if he called back, do you, Rishid?"

Rishid shook his head. "I do not know, but I don't think he did," he replied. "The telephone is right here, and I am certain I would have woken up if it had rang." He gestured to where it was hanging on the wall behind the couch.

Marik glanced at it as well, then turned and headed back upstairs. "Well, I'm going to get dressed and then I'm leaving for a while," he said. "If I don't find Yugi or Mokuba at home, I'll probably just ride around the city for a while. Are you going to the meeting with Ishizu?"

Rishid pondered for a moment before answering. "I may," he replied.

Marik nodded as he reached the top of the stairs. A few moments later he returned to the main floor and called goodbye to Rishid as he headed out the door.

Tristan paced the floor of the room he was locked in, feeling edgy and nervous. "Duke," or whoever had been talking to him, had left a while earlier, leaving him locked in this small, windowless room. The only furniture in it was a broken-down cot and a rickety table. The walls were made of cement, but there was linoleum on the floor, though it was broken and cracked. There was a musty scent in the enclosed area, as if it was part of a basement. Tristan had felt along the walls, searching for a secret panel, and he had tried to break the door down, all to no avail.

"Man," he muttered in frustration and bewilderment as he sank onto the cot, "where the heck am I?" He could not think of anywhere in Domino that he had been to that fit the description of this cold, near-deserted place. There was not even the sound of traffic going by outside. Perhaps he was somewhere in the warehouse district, he decided. Or the walls could be heavily sound-proofed, though he could not imagine what the reason would be for doing such a thing. Maybe even both possibilities were what was the truth.

His thoughts turned back to the strange boy who had been there to greet him upon his awakening. Duke . . . what happened to you, dude? he inwardly cried, utterly baffled by the experience. It could not truly have been Duke that he had seen, his logic told him, since Duke was dead. Maybe he had even imagined the whole thing and no one had actually spoken to him. But then that did not seem likely either. Lifting up his shirt, he found the very real bruise from when Duke had kicked him. His eyes narrowed. "Whoever that was, it wasn't any ghost," he declared aloud in the lonely prison. "And Duke just wouldn't have flipped out like that! I know he wouldn't have!"

As his voice rose, he suddenly became aware that it sounded as though he could hear another voice nearby. Frowning, he quieted and listened for it again, trying to determine which direction it had come from. Then he did hear it again, coming from his right.

"Hello? Is anyone out there?"

It was a female voice, and it sounded cautious and filled with disbelief, as if its owner could not believe that another living person was down in such a dark dungeon. It also sounded vaguely familiar, but Tristan could not place it.

"Yeah!" he called, going up against the wall from which the sound came. "I'm here, locked in! Where are you?"

"I'm locked in too," came the reply. "I thought I was the only one down here, until I heard you talking to yourself." Tristan could now tell that it was an adult woman's voice.

"How long have you been in here?" he demanded.

"Since last night," was the reply. "I don't know how it happened. My daughter and I were attacked at our home, and I must have been knocked unconscious by those Duel Monsters. I woke up here not that long ago." She had still been unconscious when Tristan had first regained his senses, which was why she had not heard him and "Duke" talking.

"'Daughter'?" Tristan repeated, his eyes widening. He recognized the voice now—it was Ms. Kawai! He had only met her a couple of times, and she had been quite formal and almost cold toward him. He had gotten the feeling that she did not think much of Joey's friends and that she most likely did not care for his obvious interest in Serenity. "Ms. Kawai, this is Tristan Taylor!" he announced now. "Is Serenity okay?"

The woman gave a sigh of exasperation. "Well, she could have been taken too, for all that I know!" she snapped, dearly praying that this was not the case. But she was baffled as to why she herself had been taken. And why Tristan? It seemed that so much did not make sense. Were the Duel Monsters working for someone else, or were they acting on their own? She had not originally believed that they would be intelligent enough to either be someone's lackeys nor to concoct something like this by themselves, but it seemed as though she had been wrong.

"Well, don't get so touchy," Tristan muttered. "How would I know that you wouldn't know something?" Then he raised his voice again so that she could hear. "Looks like we're stuck here," he announced. "I've been looking for a way out of this place, and I can't find anything. What's it like where you are?"

"The same," Ms. Kawai answered curtly, concern for Serenity building with each passing moment. Her daughter would not have any idea what to do if she was taken captive. The woman had tried to keep Serenity sheltered for most of her life, and for the most part she had succeeded. But then Serenity had started being with her brother more and had been exposed to all kinds of terrible things, much to her mother's displeasure. She did not know the full extent of what Serenity had seen, but she knew that it must have been treacherous.

When Ms. Kawai's alcoholic ex-husband had disappeared a while back and Serenity had wanted to be able to move to Domino City to be with her brother, her mother had strongly objected. But at last, knowing that she could not simply leave her other child to live alone, she had consented—but only on the condition that they moved into a decent house. The home belonging to Mr. Wheeler had fallen into disrepair over the years, and it was in a questionable neighborhood as well. After the divorce, he had not been able to keep up with the payments on their old home and so he and Joey had moved into a much cheaper, more dilapidated abode.

Tristan sighed, leaning against the wall and staring up at the ceiling. "There has to be some way out," he said firmly, looking to the door again. It was wood, but he had the feeling that there was something heavy in front of it to prevent anyone (such as himself) from ramming into it in order to break it open. "I'm gonna figure out what it is, too." And what if Serenity really was taken too! Then I have to find her and rescue her!

Mokuba brightened when he opened the door and found Marik standing on the porch. "Marik!" he cried happily, hugging his friend. "I didn't think you'd be back so soon!" Seto had already gone to work, and since this was a school break, Mokuba had opted to stay at home. He did not have friends his own age, as he was ostracized for being the "rich kid" by the others in his class at school, and anyway, he felt that he had seen more and was more mature than others his age. He much preferred to be with people who were closer to his brother's age, such as Yugi and his friends, and especially Marik.

The Egyptian boy smiled, returning the embrace and stepping inside the spacious parlor. "We decided to come back and try to help with what's been going on," he explained. "Ishizu is meeting with Professor Hawkins right now to try to figure something out." He had gone to the Turtle Game Shop first, where he had found Solomon and asked him to pass along the message to Yugi that he was fine. Poor Yugi had finally gone to sleep on the couch after being awake all night, and Solomon had not wanted to wake him. Solomon had agreed to give Yugi the message and then had told Marik about Tristan's disappearance and Ms. Kawai's abduction. Marik had frowned, promising to help look for them, and then had gone to the Kaiba Manor after riding around the neighborhood for a while.

Mokuba bit his lip, shutting the door behind Marik. "Yeah, it's really weird," he said softly. "I wish we really could figure it out. I'm afraid that Seto might get hurt one of these days." He clenched a fist tightly. "I mean . . . he's got so much going on . . . and he got a weird phone call last night!" He had only been half-awake when Dartz had phoned, but he had vaguely heard Seto's part of the conversation before drifting back to sleep again. Then this morning he had found the article about Paradius and had become even more worried than before. Naturally he had to wonder if Dartz was up to his old tricks, and he knew that if that was so, Seto would be in grave danger.

Now Mokuba explained all of this to Marik as they sat on a plush couch. Mokuba was happy to have someone to tell his concerns about Seto. Of course he could not talk to Seto about it much, since Seto always would reassure him that he was fine and that he did not need to worry. And while he would talk to Yugi and his friends at times, he knew that several of them did not like Seto at all, mainly Joey and Tristan. Mokuba felt the most comfortable talking to Marik, and he was very happy that his friend had returned earlier than planned.

Marik looked at him in concern as he finished his tale. "That does sound suspicious," he admitted. He and his siblings had learned about the original Doom from Mokuba and others who had been there, and it sounded like a highly unpleasant experience. During that time, he, Ishizu, and Rishid had all been in Egypt, but they had come in contact with several agents from the Doom organization, and Marik was certain that they had even seen Dartz's three chosen "Musketeers of Doom" once or twice—but that is a tale for another time. "Do you have any idea who called your brother?"

Mokuba shrugged helplessly. "No," he said in frustration, "and they used a pay phone, so it's not like we can trace the number to a house."

Marik pondered on this. "Where was the pay phone?" he asked then. "Its location could be traced, couldn't it? Maybe we'd find something out from it, or from someone living nearby who might have seen something." He knew it was not likely, but he supposed that in a case such as this, every possible lead had to be followed up. When he had been the leader of the Rare Hunters, he had left no stone unturned in his search for the Pharaoh.

Mokuba brightened at even this slim chance for hope. "Yeah, it could!" he chirped. "The number's on our caller ID. We could put it into Seto's supercomputer and get a location for it!" He hopped up from the couch, eager to attempt this.

Marik smiled, getting up as well. "Do you know how to operate the supercomputer?"

Mokuba rubbed the back of his neck. "Well . . . I kinda used it a couple of times before," he admitted. "Seto didn't know." He ran down the hall to Seto's office to find the caller ID. "Come on!"

Amused, Marik followed.

Valon wandered into the kitchen, stifling a yawn as he opened the fridge to see what kinds of food there was. It seemed like such a natural action that he did not even think about it at first, but as he removed a container of leftover potato salad and looked inside, he realized what he was doing. "I'm actin' like I live here or somethin'," he muttered, replacing the container and searching through the cupboard to find cereal. "Heh . . . maybe I actually do." He grinned at the thought, finding it pleasant, and then took down a box of cocoa cereal that he had found in the back.

As he got out a bowl and spoon, a flash of memory came to him and he froze, staring ahead. He saw himself laying on the floor, being painfully shocked repeatedly along with Raphael by a green light. He could not see who was responsible, but it seemed to be a group of people. As they lay there in agony, the front door opened and Alister came in, taking in the scene. Then Valon saw the redhead's eyes flashing with rage and hatred as the same green light emanated from his being. Alister gave a scream, sending their attackers flying in every possible direction by the force of the light.

Then the scene changed. Now Valon saw himself and Raphael on a rooftop. He recognized that they were dueling, but at first he could not see their opponent. When he did, he nearly fell over from shock. "What the heck?" he whispered aloud. They had been dueling Alister, and he had acted maniacal, taking great delight in whittling away at their lifepoints. Valon did not know why, but he had the strong feeling that Alister had been trying to kill them.

His hands shook as he tried to pour the milk. What was going on? He had just started to become happy with being here, and then these memories had returned to him! What had been wrong with Alister? Why had the gray-eyed man acted that way? Valon saw another flash of memory, in which he was painfully blasted and ended up crashing to the roof. Raphael had been affected as well, and Alister had announced that they were both going to die by his hands.

Confusion and bewilderment swirled over him. The Alister he had met last night had acted so quiet and docile and genuinely caring. Had it all been an act? Or did he have some sort of bizarre split personality? And what was that green light? Now there were so many more questions that needed to be answered.

Valon was so caught up in his reverie that he did not notice Alister standing by him until the redhead was asking what was the matter. Immediately Valon was returned to the present, looking up at Alister with wide, accusatory blue eyes. "You tried to kill me!" he gasped, pointing a forefinger at him. "You tried to kill both me and Raphael! What the heck is the matter with you!"

He was not expecting Alister's reaction. The older man's own eyes widened and he took a step back, looking stricken. Then he clenched a fist tightly, again nearly drawing blood. "I . . . I didn't want to," he said quietly. "I wasn't in control of myself. . . ."

Valon stared at him. "And what does that mean?" he demanded. "You weren't in control of yourself? Are you tryin' to say you were possessed or somethin'?" he added in a scoffing tone. He did not understand at all what had gone on, but undeniably it was disturbing to him—to have amnesia and be brought to this home, and then to recall that one of the seemingly friendly people here had tried to kill him and the other person. Many thoughts tumbled over themselves in Valon's mind and he wondered if he should not have come back with Alister after all. Perhaps he should have stayed with the gang, even though he had not been happy there. But . . . why did it feel so right for him to be here? He had not been able to explain it before, and he was all the more confused now.

"Yes," Alister said after a moment of silence. "You could say that." He felt sick. Of all memories for Valon to regain, why did it have to be those of when Alister had been controlled by the Orichalcos after it had poisoned him? Now the Australian would likely never trust him. He might even leave, and Alister could not blame him if he did.

"That's crazy!" Valon said hotly. "What kinda nutcase are you?" He glared harshly at Alister, wondering what on earth to do. A voice in the back of his head told him to calm down and that he should civilly ask both Alister and Raphael for an explanation, but he ignored it. The frustration at these discoveries was too great. Valon had hoped that he had at last found somewhere to belong, but how could he stay around someone who had actually tried to kill him?

Alister knew that Valon would be impossible to reason with under these circumstances. He swallowed hard, hating himself again for the time that Valon was remembering. "What are you going to do?" he asked finally.

Valon glared into his cereal bowl. "I don't know," he mumbled. "Just . . . go away." He could not think with Alister lingering there. Now he had thoughts of wondering if he would suddenly be attacked at any given moment. He wanted the redhead to leave him alone until he could sort out his feelings.

There was a long silence, and Valon wondered if Alister had gone away. When he looked up again, the gray-eyed man was turning to the doorway. "So be it," he said quietly. Valon felt a pang of regret for how he had spoken to the redhead, but he pushed it back and ate slowly, trying to make some sense out of what he had seen.