Pegasus in chains is pitiable, silver hair tumbled over his forehead, rusting steel links criss-crossing his chest, then wrapping around his wrists and ankles. His expression is shocked, unbelieving, even as he says "I knew this would happen." Heaving a tragic sigh, "this is what always happens when I trust someone."
The trouble is that Yami no Yuugi has no reason to think he looks better. Chains are chains, and they don't look good on anyone, on Pharaohs any more than on American businessmen.
"This is my fault," Pegasus says mournfully. "I'm the one who believed him. Tell me, Yuugi-boi, why would I do such a stupid thing?"
And Yami no Yuugi knows he's never going to get a better opportunity to advise Pegasus about over-confidence, about letting his emotions take control of his reason, or about the corrosive power of lust. The only thing is, he's here too, and Kaiba's got him chained as well. "I have no idea," he mumbles, then he falls silent.
"You really are a fool, Pegasus," Kaiba returns from wherever he was, apparently, just to sneer at them. "Both of you are. Did you really think I wanted you? Either of you? Or anyone, for that matter? I told you before, I can take care of myself. You're both here," he adds, "because you wanted me so badly that you ignored everything I told you. And I'm going to keep you here," he turns to leave, "and if anyone else comes sniffing around me I'll put them down here with you, so they won't bother me either." And he exits in a swirl of trenchcoat, without leaving so much as a mocking laugh behind him.
Yami no Yuugi looks at Pegasus. "I didn't know he'd be so adamant," he tells him.
And "I didn't know he had a dungeon," Pegasus says.