I know that no amount of apologizing will make up for how long it's been, but I just wanted to let you guys know that I'm still alive! Please see the AN at the end of this chapter for info on future updates.

You've been waiting long enough, so don't let me slow you down!

Enjoy! Hopefully it was worth the wait!

Chapter 18

There wasn't a moment during art class the next day when I didn't want to rip out every strand of hair on my head. The stop-motion animation project that had forced Atem and I to work with the mother of all Queen B's turned out to be the worst experience I had ever had in my life.

Besides, you know, getting kidnapped. But it was up there.

Everything started out fine, with Atem and I trying to figure out how to build the storyline around his misshapen cat, and even sharing some laughs. But then Astrid had to come into class ten minutes late and crush our hopes of having an Astrid-free day. She walked her hip-swaying, I'm-better-than-you walk right over to the empty chair beside me and sat down, the picture of grace and amazing posture despite the heavy glares she was receiving from me. My mood, and probably Atem's as well, darkened considerably at her appearance.

"So, guys, what're we doing for the film?" She asked nonchalantly, like she had always been a part of our project, despite not having participated in any of the brainstorming sessions Atem and I had had the previous class period.

I clenched my teeth, and was about to reply with some not so nice words, but Atem opened his mouth before me. "We're figuring out the plot for the cat."

Astrid knitted her eyebrows together and looked down at the table, upon which sat the half-scared-half-surprised feline Atem had sculpted. "That's a cat?" She gave a sheepish giggle. "Sorry. It just looks so funny."

"That's the point." I snapped, quick to defend Atem. "Weren't you listening to anything we were saying last class period?"

She examined her nails, then made a face. "I thought I was. Something about naming it Oscar and having its friends throw it a surprise birthday party, right?"

I felt my eye twitch. I wasn't angry that she had gotten it wrong; I was pissed that she had gotten it right. "Yeah. Care to help us with the details, or are you just going to sit there and pretend you're posing for some candid high school magazine photographer?"

Astrid looked at me and grinned, perfectly-straight teeth glinting in the sunlight from the window to our left. "Wow, Erin. With that attitude, I don't know if I want to work with you."

"Then be my guest and find another group." I growled.

"Erin." Atem said softly, a warning undertone in his voice. I glanced over at him to find he was staring intently at me, eyes willing me to drop the venom in my words. The slight shake of his head was only noticed by me.

Taking a deep breath, I looked back to Astrid's inquisitive eyebrows, temper calming long enough for me to say, "Look, you're going to have to help us if you want to get any credit for the project. And at the rate you've been working, you'll be getting a zero."

Astrid shrugged, and for a millionth of a second, I could see her old mean-girl expression return before being replaced by her too-fake-to-be-real smile. "Fine, fine. But I want to be the director."

"We're all directors." I said, trying to keep my voice as steady as possible. As to be expected of Astrid, she was asking for the job that involved bossing people around. And I was not excited about that idea.

She sighed and looked to the ceiling for a moment like she was being forced to explain nuclear astrophysics to a small child. "Of course we are, silly. I just mean, I want to specifically be the director. You know, since I'm not great at the whole art thing."

Atem raised an eyebrow. "What does that leave for Erin and me?"

Astrid gave him a killer smile. "Glad you asked, partner. You will be creating the script and storyline. Erin, you're the artist and animator. Questions?"

"Yeah," I raised my hand, then put it down quickly, unable to hide my glare. "Just one. Who the hell put you in charge?"

She glared back at me for a moment. "Well, someone had to step up."

"It's called a group project for a reason. Meaning we all do equal amounts of work for equal amounts of credit." I avoided Atem's please-don't-do-this look. This fight was between Astrid and me, and it was long overdue.

"We will be doing equal amounts of work. Every job has its own work cut out for it." Unlike my voice, which was growing harsher and harsher, Astrid's remained calm and steady. It was like our personalities in every previous argument had switched.

I clenched my fist on the table. "Bull. All you'll be doing is ordering us around while we make the project by ourselves. You're going to help us, Astrid, whether you like it or not. We will all work on the script, and we will all work on the art and animation. Got it?"

"Now who's ordering people around, Miss High Horse?" She said, eyes flashing. "Stop acting so righteous. It's not a fitting look for you."

"I could say the same about that innocent pout of yours."

"Now you're just being rude."

"You started it."

"You're a pain."

"You're a bi – "

Atem cleared his throat and put a hand over my shaking fist for a moment, just to remind me that he was sitting right there, before retracting it so I would follow his movement. When I finally met his eyes, I found that he was scowling, an obvious sign that he was enjoying our verbal sparring match about as much as one would enjoy having their spine ripped right out of their backs. My rage ceased to exist, leaving me only feeling guilty for acting so immature in front of him again. Knowing he had gotten attention from the both of us, he said, "Stop. Can we please get back to work?"

Astrid's crush on Atem might have still been there, or she might have just decided to stop taking her anger out on me for once. Either way, Atem's words silenced the vicious brunette. Without an apology or even an "okay," she took one look between the two of us, and just stopped moving. Her bright green eyes grew dark with an emotion I had never seen in them before, shifting to her hands in her lap.

If I didn't know any better, I would have said she looked...sad.

She didn't speak for the rest of the class period, nor did she so much as twitch when Atem tried to ask her if she was alright. I even poked her hard with a structure wire, gaining another stern look from Atem, but she still didn't stir.

It seemed that Astrid, my number one enemy in Domino High, had been defeated by an exchanged glance between Atem and me.

Weird.

The museum was huge, much bigger than I remembered from my drive to school every day. Big white pillars framed the entrance, which one could only reach via a large set of stairs or wheelchair ramps at either end of the steps. The building was done in a Roman-esque fashion that was typical of government buildings and other museums, but somehow, this one seemed grander. It may have just been because this structure in particular possibly housed answers that I had been searching for for weeks.

And also, though I wasn't quite ready to admit it to my friends yet, I was something of a history buff. There was a reason it was my best (and favorite) subject. The sight of a museum made my heart jump in excitement, much like it had every other time I had taken a trip to one. When we finally ended up on the steps of the columned, magnificent building, I couldn't help but smile. A real one. The banners hanging outside proclaimed the newest exhibits: Twelfth-Century Fashion and Ancient Roman Kings. Though I cared about neither at the moment (but noted the latter for a future visit), my mind's eye replayed every other museum I had been to in my lifetime, the ones I had begged my parents to take me to when we traveled. In museums, I felt a kind of familiarity and ambiance in the history I got to see before my very eyes. I could see plainly my father's amused smirk when young, outgoing little me got excited about the sarcophagi at the Smithsonian, or the restored ancient Greek paintings in a walk-around show in Montana. Though museums had never been Dad's favorite places to be, he had always volunteered to go with me. Those hours looking through glass cases at objects that had once belonged to someone long dead were some of my fondest memories with him. And that made every one I stepped foot into, with or without Dad, special.

I had met up with everyone at the museum after school, Ishizu and Marik already waiting for us when we got there. There was a kind of tense excitement in the air, like we were about to learn if we had won some kind of contest or something. It only made the fluttering in my stomach and the weight of the amulet in my bookbag more intense.

Ishizu saw my smile, and returned it with one of her own, but didn't say a word. There was an almost knowing look in her eyes. As she had the night before, the elder of the Ishtars wore a traditional Egyptian dress that once again forced me to think of Isis.

I turned my eyes back to the museum, scolding myself. I needed to focus on finding answers. Only that.

"Are we making a beeline for the Ancient Egypt exhibit, or are we going to look around a little beforehand?" Tea asked, speaking of her own accord for the first time since Marik and Ishizu had proposed the museum visit.

We were inside by that point, standing in the gigantic lobby that housed a large grand staircase leading to a second floor, and various doorways leading to different time periods. Everyone exchanged glances and shrugged.

"Wasn't the whole purpose of coming here to see that one?" Marik asked, something underlying his snark that told me the question was implying more than it seemed.

"Well, I mean, yeah, but..." Tea made a face, then looked to an archway to our right. "I wanted to show Erin something in the Roaring Twenties exhibit."

"Show me what?" I asked. By that point, I was growing anxious to look around upstairs, where a sign told me the Ancient Rome and Egypt exhibits were.

"Tea, we came here so Ishizu and Marik could show us that new addition to the Egypt section. Remember?" Yugi asked.

"Besides, what do you know about that exhibit? We haven't even been in there before." Tristan added, watching her warily.

Tea crossed her arms, eyes flashing. "What, you don't think I've come here on my own before? In case you forgot, the Roaring Twenties was a Renaissance for dance and pop culture, both of which are topics I enjoy."

I raised an eyebrow at her. While I knew that Tea loved anything to do with dancing and was an avid magazine reader and music fan, I was confused as to why she suddenly wanted to put her interest above those of the entire group. That was very un-Tea like. "What do you want to show me?" I repeated slowly.

She looked at me, happy that I was giving her a chance. But there was something wild still – something frantic – in her expression. "There's a fashion exhibit that just opened up, and I think you'd really like it." She paused for a second, ignoring the dubious looks of her friends, then added, "It'll only take, like, five minutes, tops. Please?"

Everyone exchanged glances. Five minutes wasn't very long to wait, especially considering we had at least three hours before the museum closed.

Finally, I shrugged and decided to speak up, since Tea was still staring at me with that crazy (and slightly terrifying) look in her eyes. "I guess it wouldn't hurt anything to wander for a few minutes."

"Great!" She took my arm a little too quickly, pulling me toward the doorway to the Roaring Twenties exhibit, which was sure to house dozens of glamorous dresses and beauty products left over from the glitzy age. I felt the others follow us, still wondering what the heck was wrong with Tea.

After a couple of seconds of speeding around corners and dodging people (Tea was moving much too fast, especially considering that we were in a museum. Wasn't it a sort of unwritten rule to not run through museums?), we ended up at the end of a long glass case that housed a number of different ensembles from the time period. Stylish gowns began the line, but as we moved further down, their hems grew farther and farther from the ground, signaling the uprise of flappers.

I had to admit, the dresses were beautiful in a way that many nowadays weren't. However, my anxiety about getting upstairs had gotten much worse while I was dawdling in this hall of fashion.

"Look at this one!" Tea said, eyes bright as she pointed to a knee-length flapper-style dress, which was heavily bedazzled with sparkly gems and draped with tassels all the way down from the chest to the bottom of the skirt. "How would you like to dance with that thing on?"

I forced a smile. "Yeah, it's all fun and games until one of those tassels gets caught on some guy's shirt button at the club."

Tea grinned and gave me a playful shove. "Come on. Isn't it beautiful, though?"

I nodded. "It is." For a moment, there was a flash, as if from a camera, and then loud, upbeat music played in my ears as I saw figures clad in these same garments doing the Charleston. But just as quickly as it had come, the noise and picture were gone, leaving me standing there, dumbstruck. I glanced over at Tea, but she hadn't seemed to notice my lapse in sanity. Had I just imagined things?

The others had caught up to us. "Jeez, Tea, training for a three-legged 100-meter dash?" Tristan asked, reaching us first.

"No, you guys are just out of shape." Tea said, voice sharpening at their arrival. I cocked my head at her, unable to decipher why her attitude was bouncing back and forth so rapidly.

My eyes found Atem, who had moved closer to me than the others. He noticed my staring, and stared right back, eyebrows arched as if to say, "What?"

"Wow, get a load of that dress." Joey said, bringing the attention back to the gown Tea and I had been ogling. "I bet that thing must weigh at least twenty pounds on its own with all that bling."

"Not that much, but the more glamorous ones could be pretty uncomfortable." I spoke without thinking, not even registering the words that came out of my mouth. I was back to looking at the dress. "But when you throw on your glad rags, looking spiffy outweighs the pain."

Tristan guffawed. "Glad rags? Spiffy? I'm sorry, but is this exhibit frying your brain?"

I shook my head, turning to find everyone watching me with dumbfounded expressions on their faces. "What?"

"Were you trying to be funny?" Marik asked, nose wrinkled in a mild form of disgust.

"Marik!" Ishizu scolded.

"What are you talking about?" I asked.

Tea's eyes were wide, like she had just seen her worst fear recognized. "You just spoke fluent 1920's slang."

I scoffed, like what she had just told me was ridiculous. "No I didn't."

"Okay, Erin, then tell us what you actually said." Tristan said.

My eyes fell to the floor as I thought back to the words that had spilled from my lips just seconds before. Though the two slang terms I had spoken sounded familiar in my mind, I could not name one time I had ever said them of my own accord. They were definitely not a part of my ever-growing weird slang dictionary. In fact, I didn't even think I had remembered they were actual phrases until I had said them. A wave of nausea hit me as I realized what this meant, and suddenly I didn't feel so good. "Oh my god, I did."

There was a short silence that was both awkward and tense, but to me, it stretched on forever. No one seemed to know exactly what to say. The situation was weird.

And I hated where my mind was going with things, but I couldn't help myself: could this somehow, some way, be connected to everything else that had happened to me lately? I mean, did the short glimpse of a random dance party count as a vision? If I could have visions of Ancient Egypt and Rome, why not the Roaring Twenties, too? And if I could understand – and possibly speak, though I hadn't really tried it – Latin, then who's to say I couldn't speak an old American dialect?

A hand placed itself on my shoulder, jerking me out of my head. "Erin?"

My head shot up to find Atem attempting to regain my attention. "Yeah?" I managed to say despite the anxiety blocking my throat.

"Are you ready to go up to the Egypt exhibit?" His question wasn't pushy, but I could tell by the look in his eyes that he was trying to nudge me in that direction anyway.

I took a breath, then nodded, slapping on another fake smile. "Definitely. I need out of this one."

"Great." Marik said, turning around to lead us back out of the room. We all followed, everyone momentarily forgetting about my strange lapse into old slang.

Atem stayed by me, throwing curious glances my way every so often. His shoulder almost brushed mine as we walked, which sent a warm feeling through my chest even though he wasn't actually touching me. A small voice in the back of my head told me to grab his arm or his hand or his jacket sleeve. I made a face at that voice and shoved it back into the junk drawer of my subconscious.

Because doing any of that would be crossing the line between "friendly" and "creepy."

The entryway to the ancient Egypt exhibit was much more overdone than the others. It was lavishly decorated to resemble a doorway to a temple, engraved with hieroglyphs and copies of famous pieces of ancient art. Murals on either side heightened the effect, showing stone walls that ended with a bright, sunny afternoon in the desert. I felt a shiver run down my spine as I glanced at some of the carvings on the underside of the archway.

"Why is this one so...decorative?" I asked as we made our way to the center of the room inside, which split into five others. Banners and posters hung around the walls in this particular one, summarizing each era of Egyptian times, and pointing the way to the doorway that led to the rooms carrying objects from those eras. In the center was a life-like horse "pulling" a large one-man chariot, inside of which sat a wax figure of a soldier dressed in a knee-length kilt.

"Let's just say that the Domino Museum has some...generous archaeological donors." Yugi explained. His quick glance at Ishizu did not escape my notice.

"I see." I murmured, doing my best to pretend that everyone was acting normal, and not watching me like some kind of ticking time bomb as I looked around the room for something that caught my attention.

My backpack, which I still had with me because we had all walked up there right after school, felt heavy with the weight of the amulet inside. I had gotten up the courage to touch it without flinching the night before, but the thing still made me wary. I had hoped that bringing it with me might help me put together more pieces of Sagira's puzzle.

Unfortunately, I had no idea what era of Egypt she had (prospectively) lived through.

"Where do we start?" I asked, glancing over at Atem, who was closest to me.

He stared at me with his level, careful eyes. "Wherever you want."

Marik muttered something, which in turn caused Ishizu to elbow him. When I raised an eyebrow at the siblings, Marik had so much sass residing in the set of his face that I knew it had been some kind of sarcastic remark about either my question or Atem's answer. He seemed to be urging me with his eyes to just move already.

"Okay..." I said, moving towards a doorway whose poster boasted was the "Time of Tutankhamun." If I was going to start anywhere, I may as well start with one of the only things I saw that was familiar to me.

Everyone followed me like I was some sort of tribe leader. The only one who dared to walk side by side with me was Atem, who had visibly relaxed in the last ten seconds. Though I wouldn't tell him at the moment, I was glad he was there. He made me feel less alone.

Apparently, the time period I had chosen was the New Kingdom, when architecture and religion had flourished in ancient Egypt. The room was full of slightly newer, but still time-beaten and half-faded artifacts, anything from eating utensils to a large reconstructed throne against a back wall. Large posters were hung between cases, marking the time during which the items would have been used, as well as a view of what life in Egypt was like then. Many of the photos and artifacts that I passed seemed vaguely familiar to me, but I couldn't pinpoint a time and place to any of them besides similarities to objects I had seen at other museums.

Near the middle of the room, I picked a glass case to approach at random and closed in on it, confused as to why nothing I was seeing in the exhibit was clicking in my mind the way the amulet or the necklace in my history textbook had. The tablet propped up behind the glass was covered in faded writing, obviously hieroglyphs. Beneath it, a plaque explained that the symbols formed a sort of prayer to Osiris, king of the underworld. A rough translation was written beneath, but I didn't get time to read it.

"They left out some words." Atem's voice was right next to me, and I jumped a little, forgetting that I was being followed. I met his eyes only to find that he was smirking at how startled I was. After a long moment of my questioning gaze on his, he turned his attention back to the tablet. "There," he pointed to the second row of hieroglyphs, and then to the corresponding line in the translation, "it should say, 'May my mortal soul be deemed worthy of your acceptance.' Instead, they put, "My soul will become worthy of your acceptance.'"

Recovering from my shock, I breathed out a small laugh. "Makes it sound a little less formal and a little more demanding, huh?" I asked, then realized he had just read an ancient text and practically dissed a historian's careful translation of it. "Wait. How do you know that?"

He chuckled. "You think archaeologists are the only ones who know how to read hieroglyphs?"

I felt stupid for assuming he didn't know how – after all, his grandfather was an Egyptologist. "So your grandpa taught you that? Does Yugi know how to read them, too?"

He waited a second before replying. "He's still learning. It's a very complex writing system." I couldn't help but notice that he had avoided the first question.

But that wasn't relevant to the situation. I had remembered why I had come to the museum in the first place. "Do you think there's anything in here about...?" I glanced over at the rest of the group, who was pretending they weren't watching the two of us from a few cases down, then held up my bag, inside of which the amulet was tucked.

He understood my hint, glancing down at my bag. "I couldn't tell you, to be honest." He looked around the room, and then turned back to me with a wary look in his eyes, also seeming to have picked up on our friends' strange behavior.

"It's no big deal." I said, though we both knew that was a lie. Of course it was a big deal. Even if I hadn't told him about the visions, the amulet played a huge part in the whole cult ordeal, something I had unwittingly dragged him into.

Dread settled itself in some deep part of my chest. I was a little frustrated that I wasn't finding anything yet, despite only having looked in one of the five rooms of the Egypt exhibit. With every empty-handed search for answers, I was growing more and more afraid that I really was just imagining those visions. I clenched my teeth at the thought of another dead-end.

"Why don't we ask Ishizu for that tour of the exhibit she promised us?" Atem asked, cutting into my thoughts.

"Right. Yeah." I replied, remembering that the Egyptian girl had, in fact, told us she would give us a grand tour of this part of the museum. I wondered why she had just let me wander off without any objections.

When we got back to the others, Joey and Tristan were staring at a sculpture of a half-naked woman, wondering out loud why she didn't just pull her dress up. When Atem and I, along with the Ishtars, gave them "seriously?" looks, they jumped away from the statue and feigned innocence.

"So, find anything interesting?" Yugi asked, trying to play off the boys' antics.

I shrugged. "We found a prayer to Osiris. But that's about it."

Marik gave Ishizu a meaningful look. "Sis, why don't we show them the newest addition to the exhibit? I'm sure Erin would love to learn more about Sagira."

Another flash of familiarity with that name went through my mind. I ignored it and nodded. "Yes, that would be wonderful."

Ishizu smiled. "Of course. Follow me."

As we waded deeper into the New Kingdom room, I fell into step beside Tea. Like she had been doing the last few days, she'd lapsed into a tense silence that seemed to grow louder and louder every day. "Hey, are you okay?" I asked in a low voice so no one else would hear. Atem was a few steps in front of us, just out of earshot.

"Who, me?" Tea asked, then shook her head. "I'm great. In fact, I'm better than great. I'm fricking phenomenal."

It didn't take a genius to realize she was lying. Besides, Tea Gardner was not one of those people (such as myself) who used words like "fricking" in normal context.

"Tea, I'm not an idiot. You've been acting weird for the last week. What's wrong?"

She didn't respond for a few seconds, leaving me watching her expectantly. She kept her eyes locked ahead of her to avoid mine. Finally, she sighed. "I really want to tell you. I really do. But I can't."

I frowned at her vague answer. "What do you mean?"

She shook her head. "It's complicated, Erin."

"I'm a good listener."

"I know you are. But this...I can't say." Her voice was strained. I could tell she was trying her absolute hardest not to break.

I nudged her with my elbow, curiosity peaked. "Come on. Spit it out."

There was a long moment where I was afraid I had crossed some sort of line. Tea was silent for a few more seconds. Then, "There's a lot about us that you don't know."

"What?"

"Erin, I don't want you to leave me. You're one of my best friends. Remember that."

Now I was just confused. "What? Why would I leave you?"

"Because – "

Our conversation was cut off abruptly when I almost slammed into Atem, who had been waiting with the others at the new exhibit. I had been so involved in Tea's cryptic words that I hadn't realized we had fallen way behind the group.

"Could ya guys walk any slower?" Joey asked jokingly.

"Please don't take that as a challenge." Marik said, arms crossed. He sounded kind of bored.

I ignored the two boys. "So, what did you guys want to show me?" Though I was concerned about what Tea's deal was, I really wanted to find out more about Sagira, so I pushed our strange exchange to the back of my mind for the time being.

Ishizu piped up from next to a metal podium, which she gestured to. "This."

"What is it?" I asked, walking up to meet her at the stand. Turns out, the thing wasn't a podium. It was another artifact case, only the glass to view the artifact from was on the top so you had to look down.

"See for yourself." She said. There was something that sounded like excitement in the Egyptian woman's voice.

I obeyed, taking a few steps closer so I could bow my head and see what she seemed to be so excited about.

Surrounded by black velvet was a tablet that looked to be in very poor condition. Pieces were missing, and there were some parts that looked like it had been glued back together. It was made of some kind of dark stone about the length of my forearm, and the heiroglyphs carved into it were a faded whitish-gray color that would have created a beautiful contrast when it was first created. Like the prayer Atem and I had seen when we had first arrived, there was a plaque in the corner of the glass, explaining its origins and, again, a rough translation.

And when I say rough, I mean very rough.

I mean, how did they get "We go about our days in sorrow" from "Sleep evades me in these dark days?" And who decided that "My secret lies with the one whose eye I wear" actually meant "I wear secrets eyes cannot see?" Who translated this? Who thought this was okay?

Wait. What was I doing?

It took me a long moment to realize exactly what I was doing.

"Erin?" Atem asked from behind me. I felt the slight brush of fingertips on my shoulder, and I jerked away.

"Hey, Blue, are you feeling okay?" Joey's voice seemed so far away from where I stood, despite the separation of only a few feet.

Why was he asking me that? Did I look sick?

Then it dawned on me. My position had changed dramatically in the minute I had been standing at the podium. Now I was leaning very heavily on it, my hands clutching the edges so hard that my knuckles were turning white.

"Erin?" Atem tried again. He didn't attempt to lay a hand on my shoulder again, but I could hear the obvious worry in his voice.

"Atem." My monotone wasn't in reply to his question. Instead, it was the beginning of my own question. "Could you tell me what this thing says?"

I felt rather than saw him come up next to me. With gentle fingers, he pried mine off the podium so he could get a better look at the tablet. Instead of dropping back to my sides like they should have, I found my hands grabbing his and squeezing them like a lifeline. I had no control. I could feel my mind drifting off, to that far-off place where Sagira's memories clashed with my own. If Atem was fazed by this, he didn't show it.

As he began to read, his voice changed. Instead of his steady timbre, I now heard someone else, someone that sounded a lot like me in video recordings.

Sleep evades me in these dark days. It is not the absence of tiredness that is causing it, but rather fear of what is to become of me. I am not ready to face this life alone. I can't stop my mind from going to dark places. Let this be a testament to how erratic I have become.

The scene around me faded into a dark bedroom. A large bed and wash basin were illuminated in the little moonlight that made it through from the balcony doors, but otherwise, the room was bare. I was sitting in a chair, writing stele in my hand, etching the words I was speaking to myself into a dark clay tablet.

These words will not be forgotten, for I am writing them on a very permanent surface. You who are reading this now cannot even begin to fathom what I have done, why I am making sure my thoughts are heard. But my writing this down does not mean I will make it easy for you to understand. I hardly understand.

My secret lies with the one whose eye I wear.

I looked outside the doors of my balcony, where the cool desert night was almost up. With a deep breath, I closed my eyes.

I wouldn't live to see the sunrise.

Aaaaaand there you have it! Chapter 18! How was it? It took me a really long time to write this, not because I didn't want to, but because I haven't had much time. So if it seems a little choppy, I'm really sorry.

How terrifying was that little verbal battle with Astrid? Was Erin taking it a bit too far? What must have been crossing Atem's mind at that point?

And what was with the weird lapse of consciousness in the Roaring Twenties exhibit? Could there be more to this story that I haven't revealed yet?

The last scene kind of speaks for itself. What was Sagira thinking when she wrote those words? I know they don't make sense. They're not supposed to. She was kind of in a weird frame of mind at that point in time.

Anyways, school just started, so that means my updates might be a little sporadic for a while. Between work and school and extracurriculars, I'm going to be pretty busy from here on out. I'm going to try really hard to get new chapters up on Wednesdays, but from now on, if they're not up then, my new backup day is Sunday. So make sure you check in on both of those days just in case.

Ciao for now,

creativelybored