(NOTE 3/8/06: Chapters have been restored to their original order! Assuming nothing ELSE goes wrong, here ya go!)
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Yadda yadda yadda, same stuff as usual...same begging on hands and knees for reviews...and now the REAL reason you're all here: a new chapter!
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Disclaimer/Claimer: see other chapters
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It was peaceful, deep in the darkness. A calming exhaustion enfolded the mind and body. Soon there would be sleep.
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Despite how restful it was, something flickered, a bothersome twitch that nagged, like an itch begging to be scratched.
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Wasn't he forgetting something…?
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…Well…
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There seemed to be something significant about the fading little flicker at the edge of his mind.
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As he tried to remember, it got smaller, and smaller…
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The last gasping flickers of a dying candle.
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…Oh. So that was it. He was dying.
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That explained it.
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An endless moment later he wondered if he should do something about that.
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Maybe…
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Death would be nice. A chance to rest…
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But there was something he was supposed to be doing, wasn't there?
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That sounded right. He was supposed to be doing his job.
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And didn't dying mean he'd failed…to protect…
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The fading flicker of Yami's consciousness and life suddenly exploded to full size, fed by the force of strong, remembered panic.
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What he returned to was even worse: his body, heavy and cold and aching, but something inside his chest was hurting, burning -
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'It hurts because you're not breathing,' some mercifully sensible corner of his mind screamed at him, 'Idiot! Open your mouth!'
The gasp of air was also a gasp of pain. Oh yeah, he'd cracked those ribs fighting the shifter, hadn't he…
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'NO!' Yami gasped mentally - using his voice hurt too much right now - as reality kicked him in the teeth, 'That THING is going after the others…and it's disguised as me! I have to stop it!'
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But first things first, though: the reason he couldn't move had to be dealt with. The last thing he clearly remembered had been a foot on his neck…now it was almost broken.
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Literally. A section whose size was only that of his thumbnail was what had separated Yami from instant death.
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Grimacing at the extra pain he had to inflict on himself, Yami gathered his magic and mentally aimed it at repairing the cracked vertebrae in his neck.
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His ribs needed mending too, but that would take magic which Yami fully expected he'd need to fight with. The throbbing in his chest would serve as a good goad, which he more than deserved for allowing this situation to happen at all.
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Walking proved most interesting.
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Thankfully, the warehouse Bakurah had spoken of wasn't too far away…but unless you knew it was there - something you really could only know if you had the ability to jump from roof to roof of the adjoining skyscrapers - it was effectively invisible from prying eyes.
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The shifter would have to trace the trail left by the mortals, but there were other, faster shortcuts. Still, without knowing exactly how long he'd been unconscious, Yami did his best to hurry.
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He was dragging himself along the side of the alleyway, only a few meters away from the wall of the lot where the warehouse had been built - back when people had come by and needed to be kept out - when the first magical blast rocked the ground.
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As expected.
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No shifter, no matter how good it was at imitation, would be able to pose as himself and manage to fool Bakurah, Yami knew.
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Even though the reason for the other's in-depth knowledge of himself also sickened him, if it was keeping the mortals alive and Yugi safe, he'd find a way to live with it.
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More blasts were thrown - the shifter was even capable of mimicking Yami's magic, a bad sign - along with whatever heavy objects the two combatants had at hand.
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Thankfully, the yells of the humans showed that none of them was being thrown…yet…
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'…Almost…there…' Yami mentally groaned, his throat still aching from abuse.
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In his current condition. the gate to the warehouse lot looked rather intimidating, not to mention heavy…however, before Yami got there, it was thoughtfully removed for him by someone's magical blast.