Chapter Two
Marik Ishtar paced around near the small pond in his family's extensive backyard. Muttering to himself, he pulled his leather jacket closer around him and threw a small stone into the water. I'd forgotten how cold it is here, he thought to himself. Being in Egypt again spoiled me.
And yet inspite of the frosty weather he knew that he would rather be in Domino City than Egypt. In Egypt there were far too many bad memories. He associated it with being trapped, unable to have freedom, and suffering immense emotional and physical pain. He had ripped apart their family when he had set out on his mission of revenge against Atemu. He and Rishid had looked for the elusive Pharaoh all over Egypt before finding him far away in Domino City. That place was more of what he considered a symbol of release. Battle City was another hated time in his memories, but it had also been the beginning of what had led to his change of heart.
And now Ishizu thinks that something else is about to go wrong. Well, that's just wonderful! I was wondering how long the peace would last. We never have it easy, do we?
He glared out across the small pond, watching the clouds forming near the mountains. They would be having a storm before too long. Then Domino City would most likely be adorned in white, and Marik would be determined to stay inside. I suppose it's too much to hope for, that the Duel Monsters will hate the weather and go home. They probably feel that they haven't done enough damage yet.
A shadow fell over him and he looked up, only to see nothing. Frowning, he turned to go inside. "So now I'm seeing things," he said dryly, not caring that he was talking to himself. "Oh joy."
But a large white feather floated down into his path. Marik blinked in surprise as he reached to pick it up. He had not been hallucinating after all.
Again he looked up into the sky, trying to see what sort of bird—or Duel Monster—belonged to the shadow, but now he could see nothing. It had flown off once more. He supposed he should not be surprised. Shaking his head, he headed inside to the warmth of the fireplace.
Alister was quite displeased when he arrived home and was told of the bizarre creature that had been visiting Raphael. He was quite disturbed as well, but he could provide no answers—save to mention the dream of seeing a winged creature trapped in a bubble. He remained silent about the dream-memory of hearing that same creature's voice calling to him during the penalty game with Raphael and Valon. That had been a painful time for all three of them, and he knew Raphael especially did not like thinking of the past. He preferred to focus on the future, while Valon's specialty was the present. Alister did not want to bring up memories of the duel, and he doubted that Raphael would be any less confused than he was, so it seemed pointless.
"You don't have any idea what that thing could've been?" Raphael frowned after they debated over what the bubble could have meant.
Alister shrugged. "No, I really don't," he replied, and then frowned. "Did you say that it said it was me?" To his memory came the unseen being's words from the dream-memory. "I live in your heart." What did that mean? How could something have been living in his heart? It did not make any sense. But he supposed that could explain the visitor's remark to Raphael. If it lived in his heart, would that not make it a part of him?
And yet if that was the case, then it seemed that Alister would feel as though he was not complete now. But he felt perfectly complete. He did not feel that part of his soul was missing—at least, not any more than what he had always felt since his brother's death. None of this seemed logical. The being existing at all was not logical.
It also did not make sense that Alister had been spared from the Orichalcos's wrath at the end of the penalty game. He had always assumed that it had been because he had not possessed the actual Seal of Orichalcos card, but the more he thought about it, the less plausible that sounded. The Orichalcos had been there, and its power had been very real. Alister had claimed that it would not take someone's soul, but that instead it would kill whoever lost. But it had done neither. Why was that? It went against everything Alister had been taught and had come to know about the ancient force. Raphael and Valon had always been content to accept it as a miracle and to not question it, but Alister sometimes found that he did. He wondered if there was something more to what had happened, though he did not know what that would be.
Raphael's voice brought Alister back to the present. "Yeah," he said with a nod, "that's what it said right before it disappeared—that it was you and that's how it knew what you wanted." He sighed, crossing his arms. "I guess it must have been a 'he,' if it even has a gender at all." It all still confused him, and he ran over the creature's words for the umpteenth time in his mind, without coming to any solutions.
Alister grunted. "I guess," he agreed. "How did Liu react?"
Raphael shook his head. "She wasn't bothered at all. She went right up to him and purred. But that's normal for her." He ran a hand through his hair. He hoped that Liu would sense dangerous people, as many cats seem to, but her overly friendly and docile personality often made Raphael wonder. Liu might innocently think that everyone was a friend.
"Heh." Alister crossed the room and started to sit down in a chair, when he noticed the large white feather half-stuck in the cushion. Raising an eyebrow, he pulled it out and studied it. Liu made a happy sound and leaped onto the chair's arm, reaching to bat the downy substance. Alister held it out of her grasp while he examined it, but soon found nothing especially striking about it and gave it to Liu to play with. "I don't get it," the redhead said flatly.
"Welcome to the club," Raphael muttered.
The blonde ran a hand through his hair. He knew he needed to ask Alister if what the creature had claimed was actually true, but he still hesitated. It might annoy Alister to be asked if he still wanted to die. After all, the redhead had struggled to stay with his friends through whatever life-threatening experiences happened. For Raphael to suddenly inquire if the younger man wanted to die anyway might seem to be an insult.
And on the other hand, what if it was true? Would Alister even tell him? If he did, how would Raphael deal with it? How would he be able to offer comfort and help to one who was as his brother? Raphael would have liked to have fervently prayed that this would not be the case, but he knew that praying would not change what was. If Alister still wanted to die, just praying for it not to be so would not alter feelings that had lain in his heart for years.
Raphael finally growled to himself, knowing that he had to ask Alister no matter what the answer would be—or what Alister would think of him for asking. "That thing was mistaken, wasn't it?" he spoke quietly in the lingering silence.
The stillness that followed was so profound that it was deafening. It could have been minutes or even seconds, but Raphael grew more concerned the longer that Alister did not respond. The redhead was turned away from him, gazing out the window. His friend narrowed his eyes, watching him until at last he heard him speak.
"Of course."
Alister turned slowly to face Raphael. There was not a lie in his gray eyes. And Raphael relaxed inwardly. Alister wanted to live.
Dartz looked up boredly as Alexander teleported into the room. The creature had a blissful expression, but Dartz had found that it did not take much to make his self-appointed son happy, so the Atlantean did not know whether something momentous had occurred or not. He really had other things to worry about.
Those at the Paradius company were catching on to the fact that a mysterious person had been buying up stocks. Dartz assumed it would not be much longer before they would track him down. He still did not have enough shares to again claim the company as his own, though he had been certain that regaining Paradius would not be as simple as that. There would be a fight, and Dartz was ready for it. He was not afraid of Doom Reborn. They should be the ones afraid, but alas, they did not know how the Orichalcos was manipulating all of them. Dartz knew, but they would not listen to him.
"Hi!" Alexander chirped now, immediately glomping Dartz with gusto. The Atlantean was completely caught off guard.
"What on earth are you so cheerful about?" the man frowned, tensing at the embrace. Alexander looked to be twenty years old, even though his mental age was obviously quite a bit younger. And Dartz found it quite uncomfortable to be enthusiastically hugged by what appeared to be an adult male that was of no relation to him at all.
"I met his friend," Alexander said proudly.
"Oh how wonderful," Dartz remarked dryly, a hint of sarcasm to his voice. He looked at the being, somewhat baffled by his delight. "But I thought you hated his friends?"
Alexander pulled back, nodding vigorously. "I do!" he exclaimed, sitting on the floor and laying his head against Dartz's knee. "I hate them both very much, because he loves them. But that's why I was happy to meet his friend, because his friend is special to him. I should meet everyone who's special to him. And I wanted to be sure to let his friend know that I'm planning to kill Alister." He blinked up at Dartz, who only looked more puzzled than before. "I mean, wouldn't he want to know that I'm going to make Alister happy?"
Dartz just shook his head slowly. He was never certain what to tell the boy when he spoke about the subject of his "mission." The first time Alexander had told Dartz that he was going to kill Alister in order to fulfill the gray-eyed man's deathwish, Dartz had been stunned. He had tried to find out why Alexander believed that Alister wanted to die, but he only received a strange, vague answer in reply that he could not decipher. If anything, Dartz was more confused by the creature now than when they had first met. The only things he was truly certain of were that Alexander was innocently sincere and that he honestly wanted to help Alister. Beyond that, he could make sense of hardly anything that the redhead said.
Alexander snuggled, not seeming bothered by the fact that Dartz had not answered his question. "Maybe," he said suddenly, as if the random thought had just come to him, "you should try to make up with them." He spread his wings, which was generally another sign of contentment, and let them hang down onto the floor.
Now Dartz simply stared at him in disbelief. "Are you suggesting that I find a way to apologize to them?" he said incredulously, feeling somewhat annoyed that Alexander had abruptly brought this subject up. It was not this odd creature's business what Dartz did. The turquoise-haired man doubted that Alexander even understood the seriousness of what had transpired during the reign of the original Doom.
"Well, why not?" Alexander asked, tilting his head to the side.
Dartz narrowed his eyes and looked away. "Really, it isn't that simple," he answered, standing up and crossing to the window. He looked out at the softly falling snow that had begun to descend several moments ago. It isn't simple at all, he thought to himself, feeling a mixture of revulsion, disgust, and guilt.
Alexander got up and wandered over to him, his wings still outstretched. The being hated to keep them folded on his back. He found it uncomfortable and too reminiscent of when he had been trapped in the bubble holding cell. From that experience he had gained both claustrophobia and a fear of being alone. To be truly happy, Alexander had to be around people. He thrived on it. And he could never be kept in an enclosed space for very long or he would fall into a panic.
"You could say you're sorry," he spoke up now, blinking childlike blue eyes at Dartz. The man could see this in the vague reflection from the window.
He whirled then, not thinking about what he was saying as his golden eyes flashed. "'Sorry' can't fix everything, Alexander!" he scolded. "It won't bring back their families. It won't take away the fact that I betrayed them all in the name of my idealistic, selfish, hypocritical goals!" He gripped the creature's cotton and polyester covered shoulders, Alexander shrinking in shock under the pressure. "To go to them after everything I did, and to merely be able to say that I'm sorry for destroying their lives, would be utterly unthinkable. Simply saying that would not make up for the wrongs I committed. Don't you see?"
His guilt over everything that had happened was still strong. He could not understand why he, of all people, had been given a second chance at life. The Orichalcos had ruined him and he had not been in his right mind, but he still did not consider that an excuse for his actions. He could not entirely blame the stone, not when he had honestly wanted to purify the world of the wickedness he had seen in it. He had never intended for things to turn out the way they had, but since they had, he had to live with the consequences. And so did the ones whom he had hurt.
Coming back to the present, he looked into Alexander's confused eyes and then slowly released him. He had not meant to become so incensed, but the thought that anything could be fixed with a word sounded so ludicrous. He knew that it could not be. To him, it seemed almost pretentious to go to those whose lives he had destroyed—as if he would be hoping that they would forgive him because he had gone to apologize. He certainly would not go to them for forgiveness, nor think he even deserved it. He felt that it was better to leave them alone to live their lives. They were surely trying to forget their pasts. How would it be if he then appeared and made them dig into their painful memories once again? Dartz sighed to himself, turning away.
He started when he felt arms go around him from behind. Alexander was cuddling again, and burying his face into Dartz's thick, fluffy hair. The man tensed, wishing Alexander would not do such things.
"It might be a start, anyway," came the boy's muffled voice. "I mean, if they knew you really meant it. . . ." He seemed to be entirely unfazed by Dartz's outburst, and most likely he was. Not much ever fazed Alexander.
"What would it matter anyway?" Dartz pointed out after a moment of contemplation. "If you kill Alister, he won't be here to even hear such an apology, and you don't like Raphael and Valon, so why would you care if they did?" He moved away from the creature and walked over to his desk, but Alexander followed and sat on the floor again. He smiled proudly.
"Because Alister loves them," he answered. "That means I have to look out for them whenever I can, even though I hate them. Alister would want to know that they're going to be taken care of when he's gone. And if you made up with them, then maybe you could help them and be there for them if they needed you." The unorthodox thing crossed his legs Indian-style and leaned forward, gripping the front of his calves with his hands. He was quite pleased with himself. He had everything planned out, and now it was almost time for him to finally get to see Alister face to face. Then he would fulfill Alister's wish and they could both die happy. Raphael and Valon would be happy too, to know that Alister would no longer have to be sad.
Dartz could only shake his head again. "You are a strange, strange creature," he remarked flatly, his frustration having faded away. It seemed impossible to stay angry towards this innocent being. And really, why had he let Alexander continue living there? Was it because of how well he and Chris got along? Dartz did find it good that she had a friend to play with and talk to besides her wolf Sky.
But Alexander was definitely not an ordinary friend. Chris herself had tried to talk to him about his view on life and on Alister, without much success. Dartz knew that his daughter was worried about the consequences of what would happen if Alexander went through with his mission, but he doubted that anything they said would deter him from it. The boy's mind was made up and he continued to insist that he knew what Alister wanted because he had felt Alister's feelings for years. Dartz could not seem to argue with that logic.
Blast, how would he know but what Alexander might actually be right about what Alister wanted? Dartz was aware of Alister's past suicidal tendencies, and he knew that if Alister believed he was a threat to his friends' safety, he would not want to live. But in any case, he was certain that Alister's friends would not have the reaction that Alexander fully believed they would. They would be crushed to lose part of their new family.
Dartz simply did not know what to do. On the one hand, it did not seem as though what happened to his former warriors was any of his business. But Alexander was in his care, so Dartz was responsible for what he did. It seemed impossible to stop the being's intentions, however.
Alexander closed his eyes in contentment. Dartz's words did not bother him. Yes, he knew he was a strange creature. He was the only one of his kind, and he was the only one who knew how to make Alister happy.
He pondered for a moment. Did he have people who loved him? Chris did, and he was certain that Dartz did. Ironheart, he was not sure about. But would Chris and Dartz be sad when he died? Surely, they would be happy that he had completed his mission. Yes, that must be true. They loved him, but they would not hinder his mission because they knew how important it was for him to fulfill it.
Seto Kaiba growled to himself, listening to the phone ring for what seemed to be the hundredth time that morning. There were not many sounds he found more annoying than a ringing telephone. He relaxed slightly when he heard his secretary answer it. Most likely it was one of the new prospective partners calling about the business deal they were considering. But he supposed it could also be a reporter. Oh how he hated it when one of them leaked through.
He sorted through his emails, finding nothing of interest. Things had been busy at the company for the last few months, which was something to be grateful for. At last the stock prices had finally risen, and now they were even higher than they had been before the Paradius fiasco. He just hoped things would remain that way.
His attention was turned to the intercom when he heard it buzz. Frowning, he pressed the button. "What is it?" he demanded of his secretary.
"Sir, Roland's on the phone," came the reply. "He said something strange happened."
Seto's eyes narrowed in irritation. "Strange?" he repeated. "What kind of strange?" We can't afford to have anything ridiculous go on now! he said to himself. We're just coming out on top again!
"I'll let him tell you." There was a click, and in the next moment the telephone rang. Seto snapped it up.
"What's going on, Roland?" he demanded.
He could hear Roland's stressed voice on the other end. "Mr. Kaiba, someone in the shipping department said that a truck carrying the new duel disks to Hamburg, Germany was hijacked," came the astonishing announcement. "A distress call came in from the driver and was traced to a location. When the police arrived, they found the driver was found unconscious by the side of the road, and the truck has disappeared." Roland also sounded highly confused, which he no doubt was. Something such as this had never happened before, in all of KaibaCorp history.
Seto stood up, slamming his hand down on his desk. "What?" he cried, his flashing blue eyes narrowing in bewilderment. "This is ridiculous! Why would someone steal a truck filled with duel disks?"
Roland brushed a handkerchief over his brow. "I'm sure I don't know, Mr. Kaiba," he replied. "We're investigating now, trying to find out information from anyone who might have seen what happened or who might have even seen the truck, but we're running into dead ends." He then proceeded to explain how the truck driver seemed to be in an almost comatose state. The man had been taken to a hospital owned by SchroiderCorp, but so far there was no indication that he would awaken at any time soon.
Seto was exasperated. "Not again!" he grumbled. That sounded too much like the earmarks of what happened to victims of Orichalcos duels. But Doom Reborn had their own duel disks. It would not make sense for them to take those belonging to KaibaCorp. And he had been hoping against hope that their foolish movement had been halted months ago, even though he had known that it was not likely that the entire organization had perished during the temple's collapse.
"What should we do, sir?" Roland asked now. He winced as first one phone, then another, rang in the background. He could not answer them all at once.
"Keep looking everywhere!" Seto ordered. "Don't give up until we find that truck and those duel disks. And the moment the driver regains consciousness, question him!" Somehow he doubted that the man would be able to come to, but Seto decided that they would simply have to believe that he would. After all, Doom Reborn could not be responsible every time someone was found unconscious.
As the young CEO hung up with his aide, he sank back into his chair with a frustrated grunt. This was absolutely bizarre. And he did not intend to sit around twiddling his thumbs while others were searching for the solution. He would look as well. Quickly he began a search on his laptop to find out exactly where in Hamburg the truck had been when it had been hijacked.
He growled low to himself, wondering if there was possibly someone he knew who would be able to tell him something about what had occurred. It seemed odd that the robbery had happened there, of all places. The duel disks were being shipped to places all over the world, and yet the villains had chose to attack the ones going to Hamburg. Was that a coincidence, or would it prove significant? Seto would soon find out.
Armina typed furiously at her computer, her sharp sapphire eyes boring into the screen. Her employer would find these latest developments quite interesting, she was certain, but this situation had the potential to become disastrous. There was the possibility that they would be suspected in this event. The tabloids would have a field day with the story, at any rate. They loved making the company look guilty for anything that went wrong.
"This is all we need," the turquoise-haired girl murmured, clicking out of the word processor as the message came up that she had mail. When she pressed the button and was taken to her Inbox, she found the new email swiftly and narrowed her eyes at it as she saw the name of the sender: Clarimonde.
Another communication so soon? What's going on? Armina wondered. She clicked on the email's subject line—Battle Over—and waited as it opened. She held a hand to her mouth as she grimly read the contents.
We're defeated. All of this is coming to a head right now, even though we thought we would have more time. Everything we've been struggling to protect will suffer. There is not any hope, unless you can lead Master to victory. I am gravely wounded and Erma is missing. The others are unaccounted for as well, but the chances are that they are dead or dying. Doom Reborn is about to win! They are more powerful than we even believed.
Armina slumped back in her chair, continuing to gaze at the message before her. She did not want to believe that it held any truth. This was not possible. If they could not stop Doom Reborn, then who could? It seemed that there was no one.
"Erma . . . missing?" she whispered now. "Sister, no. . . ." She would hold out hope that Erma was missing because she was constructing a plan. Erma was the leader. She could not be taken down so easily.
And what of Clarimonde? Would she survive? It almost looked as though her email had been sent in haste and had not been finished. Where had she sent it from? Exactly how "gravely wounded" was she? And what had happened to the others?
She scanned the fourth line of the email once more. "Lead Master to victory," she mused aloud, removing her glasses. What did that mean? Was she not supposed to protect their master? Leading him to victory made it sound as though she needed to send him into battle. But he would not know how to stop Doom Reborn. They used magic to fuel their plans, and he had no knowledge of real magic.
"Lead who to victory, Fraulein?"
Armina started and whirled at the voice. Siegfried was just entering the outer office, gazing at her curiously. Instantly his secretary was all business. She replaced her glasses and closed out the email. "No one, sir," she answered. "I was . . . glancing over the news story of how KaibaCorp's shipment of duel disks was hijacked here in Hamburg, and wondering what sort of victory the thieves believed they had gained." Siegfried could not see that email, nor have any knowledge about what it could mean. Armina had to solve this problem herself, without their plans being exposed. But suddenly she felt so helpless. What if she truly was the last one left?
"Ah yes," Siegfried nodded, brushing his hair over his shoulder. "I had heard about that. Strange, isn't it?" He looked at Armina, wondering what it had actually been that she had said. She was an honest, hard worker, as far as he knew. And he did not think that she was the type to read novels during the time that she should be working. So what was it that she was hiding from him? He looked closer, frowning slightly. Her eyes displayed her inner turmoil, though she appeared calm. He did not think that he had ever seen such turmoil in her eyes before.
She looked away. "Yes, it is, Herr von Schroider," she replied quietly.
Siegfried turned to go into his office, recognizing that he would learn nothing from her at this point. She had always been somewhat aloof with him, and it was obvious that she did not want to talk about what was going on now. If it was something to do with the company, she would have told him, so he assumed it was something personal. Still, he calmly remarked as he began to walk away, "If something is troubling you, Fraulein Armina, you are welcome to speak with me about it."
Still she did not look up. "Yes, I know. Thank you, sir."
Siegfried opened the door to his office, glancing back to her in confusion. Something was obviously wrong. He had never seen her behave this way. And after he had left the outer office, Armina leaned forward over her desk, feeling as though she would sob in despair.