I have no idea how this became a multi-parter at all, much less how it got this far but – behold! We have actual plot! We're also cutting a little slack (well okay, a lot of slack) on the original 80-percent dialogue rule, but I do believe it's necessary. Anyway standard disclaimers apply and reviews and concrit are appreciated.

Chapter Six.

Vienna Airspace, 5000 ft. 11:33 pm.

He can tell they're in trouble the second the tremors start.

Doesn't matter what Marcus tries to tell him. Mokuba has felt turbulence at its worst in the back seat of the Blue-Eyes-White-Jet, cruising at an altitude of twenty thousand feet, and it doesn't even come close to this.

'Marcus, gimme a break already, to heck if that's just air resistance! There's something wrong, now tell me what.'

Marcus rubs his head a little.

'…The autopilot's failing sir. But we do have experienced pilots…'

Like hell. The only experienced pilot Mokuba Kaiba would trust to get them out of this kind of situation isn't on the aircraft.

'Yeah, well… how experienced are they with the kind of stuff we saw on the news, Marcus? Let me in the cockpit.'

'Sir?

'You heard me, move aside.'

It's funny, really. A part of Mokuba wants to feel kind of glad that at least one of his employees (who he can actually try and trust this time) seems to be trying to shield him from worry, but since he'd been worried (not to mention very annoyed) ever since they left Japan, Marcus hasn't really helped him., (the shaking is only adding to his irritation), so Mokuba shoves his way through the door.

And freezes dead in his tracks when he gets there.

It looks like something out of a horror movie. A really bad one with substandard visual effects that manage to look more sick than terrifying. The entire viewing window is glazed over with a mess of sticky whiteness –whiteness which glows like midnight fungus or something out of a radium laboratory and as Mokuba keeps looking, he sees the stickiness take on forms. Human forms. Really, really, creepily human, with hands and nails (sort of) and web-like fingers gripping the glass and Mokuba really feels like the fifteen year old kid he is when he manages to whisper. 'Oh, shit, Marcus what the hell is that?'

Whatever it is, it's coating the plane like an extra skin, clinging on against freezing winds' as their downward decent becomes more and more unstable.

Whatever it is, it's not going to help them land.

Vienna Airspace, 4000 ft. 11:33 pm.

'This is Brava three-two-one sending out request for assistance to all available flight paths and stations, Brava three-two-one over.'

'…'

'Repeat this is Brava three-two-one, connection and main flight vehicle of Kaiba Corporation intercontinental business transportation. We are experienced technical and navigational difficulties and require urgent assistance, calling all systems; do you read me, over?'

'……He… call…'

'Hello? Hello! Brava three-two-one calling incoming signal, do you read us?

'….Crkle. We're… no… he… fi…signal… ver.'

'Oh, for god's sakes, speak up man!'

'…Va… three… one? This… Brava… two… thr… three, also Kai… Connection. O…er?'

'Wait Kaiba Corp? You're Kaiba Corp? I'll be damned the kid was right. I… can you try to clear your signal, connector? I can't understand a word you're—'

'Brava… three-two-one… my… we're both… Ba Corp.

'You did say Kaiba Corp didn't you? I… repeat your serial number, attendant, repeat – restate your serial code and define your designation. Jaikana, hell is that you down there? You telling me he actually took you into this?'

'…eah. What the… ll're you… up there… Dais… why?'

'God, we'll explain that one later. We're having trouble landing here. We were originally destined for runway twelve, Vienna International Airport. Landing has been jeopardised by… by an unidentifiable factor, repeat – flight destined for runway twelve is currently experiencing severe technical difficulties and suspected attack. It's our window it, they're everywhere, for God's sakes!'

'Wa… wha… you do… we can't… state yo… ination?'

'There's no time to explain it, man, for god's sakes, we're going to crash here! Get us landed before we get the heir of Kaiba Corporation killed in his own airplane!'

Vienna International Airport Runway Twelve. 11:37 pm.

'Well as you'll no doubt be glad to hear, a situation that couldn't possibly get more fucked up that it already is actually just managed to.

Kaiba knows he's gripping the fabric of the chair a little too tightly but just looking at his "cargo" is making him tense up right now for reasons he simply can't explain. Usually they're not worth this much attention anyway. 'Remind me never to do you people a favour ever again.'

…In fact, he doesn't really trust them to remind him. He'll just have to write his own post it notes.

'Oh-kay, and you're talking about what, exactly, Kaiba?'

'Turns out a Kaiba Corporation jet is approaching flight path twelve and it isn't under my authorisation which means it can only have come from one person.'

'You mean Mokuba?'

'Who else? We two are the only ones who have the clearance. The kid has probably followed me all the way from Tokyo.'

'…You trying to tell me a teenager is flyin' that jet?'

His remark earns him only a second's worth of scornful glance and by the time Joey's realised the problem with what he just said, Kaiba's moved on and doesn't seem to care.

'Oh-kay. Not to be obvious, Kaiba, but aren't we landed on…'

'Exactly, Valentine. We're on that runway. So if you'll excuse me and sit back down already, I've got a jet to move.'

He doesn't as much as glance at them as he disappears into the cockpit. Really, he should have stayed in there the whole damn flight and saved himself the bother.

'Ah… Mister Kaiba—?'

I know you heard me say that, Pilot, but I don't see you following my orders.'

'But we have to re-establish the engines sir it… it could take several minutes.'

'You've got two of them.'

'But sir, I—'

Air rushes past his cheek and Kaiba assumes it's the turbines restarting. 'One minute fifty four seconds now! Do it!'

'Sir… look.'

Hs voice has changed now. Changed to something more dazed than frightened and… And that's not right, so Kaiba looks up from the control panel to find out what the hell he means.

The white eyed face has returned to the smashed up glass, frozen in a moment, like a bad illustration. One of those very much non-human hands is reaching through, to spear a pilot through the heart.

Seto doesn't hear the screaming because there's too much white noise blocking it out.

Vienna Airspace, 3500 ft. 11:40 pm.

'Brava two-three-three this is Brava one-two-three again, what is your current status on our problem?'

'…'

'Damn it they were there, I swear it I… Brava two-three-three this is Brava one-two-three, are you receiving my messages? Come on Brava, answer me here.'

'…'

'Brava this is the stricken Kaiba Corporation aircraft. Signal distortion is increasing, we… we may be losing hold of your signal and…

'…And I don't know how well I can concentrate with those things. It's like fog, Jaikana… Tetsuo. Like the fogs alive and clinging to the glass, freezing over and just breaking away and more of it layering. It's alive and… and we can't see anything. I know it sounds crazy I know I don't I-I swear I'm not taking anything. Brava two-three-three please answer our signal.'

'…'

'Brava, listen to me, we need landing guidance and we need it now. Brava two-three-three are you receiving me? Hello? Are you receiving? Where the hell did you go?'

'…'

'Jaikana, gods damn it, help me out here!'

Vienna International Airport Runway Twelve. 11:43 pm.

Seto Kaiba is running out of patience.

Which, given his current circumstances (and his rather strategic position –located with his back shoved firmly against a well locked cockpit door), is kind of understandable.

'There's no sense acting like such a fool about it, Wheeler. I wasn't expecting to be in this situation in the first place and you sure as hell haven't helped me along. Don't you think we've already tried to find another way?'

'So what, you telling me that the engines bust? We're stuck here, totally? No way out?'

'I'm telling you we lack the fuel, time and pilots to even think about even taking off right now anyway, mutt.'

'Kaiba, will you seriously try to be a little clearer about this. I have no idea what's supposed to be happening.'

'…Yeah an' whaddya mean, we lack the pilots? We had two of em, last I checked!'

'Yeah, well, now we don't.'

The shocked silence lasts the whole time it takes for Kaiba to reappear from the under-floor storage unit.

'Kaiba…'

'Oh, God.'

'You're kidding me, right? They can't have been… Kaiba?'

'Forget the pilots. To be totally honest I can fly a plane anyway, if worst comes to worst. We don't need them.'

Shocked silence continues for an over drawn-out pause, but any considered attempts to tell him he's heartless are met with impatient glares that warn them not to even think about it. 'Look we don't have time for raising moral issues. They're dead or gone or whatever those freaks are planning to do to them. But the people on that incoming plane are not. If my brother's amongst them you'd better pray it stays that way, because god knows I should've known better than to even consider doing you idiots a favour like this in the first place and it wouldn't have happened if Yugi didn't owe me the duel of a lifetime!'

'I thought you said that you owed him?'

'Be quiet, Valentine. Or do you go by Wheeler now?'

'Oh-kay… Kaiba, I'm going to let that one slip on this one little occasion, but just where exactly did you get those big lights? Actually scratch that – never mind where they came from, just tell me what you're doing with them?'

Kaiba doesn't dignify them with a response that time, which is so very like him that hardy anyone notices.

It takes him only a few seconds longer before he makes his mind up and releases his shoulder block on the cockpit door –mercifully, it's no longer rattling. So he races for the airplane exit and grips the metal in both hands.

The handle sticks when he tries to force it. So he tried to force it harder still, opting for delivering a kick to its front that could floor a martial arts kancho. It's kind if funny, really, how the only thing none of them wonder about was exactly where Kaiba had learned to kick down doors like that in the first place.

'Kaiba, wait, you can't go out there!'

'Can't I? Just try and stop me.'

'What the hell, Kaiba? What good's it gonna do if you just get yourself ripped to pieces?!'

'Let go of my arm or regret it, Taylor. I'm not about to let my little brother die in a plane crash because we parked badly. If it's him in that jet –and I have every reason to believe it is– then he's going to smash right into this craft at one hundred and thirty miles per hour if I don't either get this damn thing out of their way or get them out of ours. Gardner, shut the door behind me.'

Before Téa can open her mouth to answer, argue with or comment on this suggestion, the airplane door is open and Kaiba has vanished into the darkness, leaving them standing in a disturbed silence, waiting for the sounds of screaming and cries that are sort-of, yet-anything-but human. They never come. Nobody relaxes.

'God… I take it all back, Joey. He really is a lunatic.'

'…Do you know, guys, I really think Kaiba might be lightening up a little. I mean he actually bothered to explain things to us before he charged out into the—'

'Not now, Bakura.'

'…Sorry.'

Vienna Airspace 2000 feet, 11:43 pm.

On the bright side, at least the monsters have started to peel away from the glass.

They've been struggling with the reinforced surface for several thousand feet now, and their frozen bodies are breaking to pieces – and yet some still continue to cling with their hands and toes and hair and whatever else. It doesn't make Mokuba feel any better because now he'd got to thinking about what those things could do to his brother and what he's gotten their last good pilots into.

He's still thinking this when the pilot in question sits up yelling.

'Sir, there's someone on the runway! They just came into viewing level, we're being given a signal to steer several degrees right.'

Mokuba loosens his grip on the back of the pilot's chair, blinks and forces himself not to overreact.

Seto. '…Daisuke, can you control the plane that much?'

'I… we can try to, sir.'

'Do it, now. You're supposed to be experienced.'

'Sir?'

'You see the guy with the lights down there, right? So move the plane in that direction, already!'

Highway En-Route to Vienna International Airport. 11:50 pm.

Yugi Muto hates driving. Especially in the dark.

'You… you sure you're okay up there, Yami?'

'I'm fine, Yugi, keep your eyes on the road!'

This kind of explains why he's failed his test three times, (while also running over two garbage cans and ending up with Jounouchi swearing never to get in a car with Yugi sitting behind the wheel ever again. Which is really saying something; given that Jounouchi has experienced Honda's driving way more often than Yugi's.)

He is still, however, better at it than Yam is and probably ever will be.

That's why Yugi keeps on driving, even with white-grey shadows curling around the vehicle and the rather uncomfortable sensation of shadow magic, creeping around his ears like the smoke of cigars.

'Keep my eyes on the road. Yeah. Sure. That's working. Yami, how fast do those things go exactly?

'The speed of darkness, I'd expect. Nothing close to the speed of light but enough.'

'But this jeep has a limit of—' A bump in the road followed by a heavy swallow and Yugi has simply no idea at all how Yami manages to keep his footing. '—Of one hundred and fifty, Yami!'

'And I notice you're not pushing that limit. This might be a good time to do so, Yugi. I don't know how long we've held them off for!'

Yami's hand appears through the skylight and Yugi can practically smell the brimstone, like something out of a hellfire, pulsing on his Other Self's fingers- the darkness of the shadows clings long and hard. He'll smell like this for days afterwards – a sign of what he's gone through in his mastery of darkness.

The body of another creature collapses against the bonnet and Yugi would've run over it as it slipped down onto the tarmac, except the body seems to have totally disintegrated by the time the ragged remains of its clothing are snatched beneath the wheels.

'Ah! Y-Yami is it just me or was that one…?'

'Falling into pieces before it even hit the windshield,' Yami's voice is cold and dangerous, filled with the rage Yugi always hates to hear from his Other. 'The dark spirits are pushing these human bodies far beyond their limits. They use up all the body's energy, then they just step out of the carcass and leave it to rot.'

'Yeah… that sounds pretty gross. And the people they just…'

Yugi tries to figure out how to say it as he thinks about the guy who met them getting off the plane, and the taxi driver who didn't speak Japanese and the hotel manager who did and who wanted him to show her the cards they were using in the tournament.

Yugi feels his eyes water just a little. His fingers grip the wheel too tightly and one hundred and twenty miles per hour seems to slow to a crawling space. 'Oh, man… It's going to kill them all, isn't it? It's really going to… they're all gone.'

He has to tell himself it's not their fault now. They're just normal human bodies taken over and turned into shells and none of them will remember the moment they went crazy. It's not them trying to kill him and his other – it's not their shadows wearing him down. They're just lost bodies and soon to be lost souls and…

And Yugi just can't blame them for that, no matter how they try to kill him. They don't know what they're doing. Its humans his other is taking apart and they don't deserve to be destroyed this way… no wonder he could feel so much guilt and anger pulsing against their soul-link.

'Yes. The shadows drain their bodies and take their minds. Every single one of them! There might be nothing left to rescue now.' Yami somehow must have heard him from up there in the raging wind. And, again, that's really something.

Not quite as big a something as the fiend that attacks them from in front, though, taking a back-facing Yami by surprise and sending him jolting into the jeep's glass rooftop. The already shattered glass of the front breaks a little further beneath the pressure and Yugi feels the pane above shatter, the shards glancing off the inside of the windshield. 'Yami!'

'Yugi! Stay down!'

The warning isn't heeded, because there's no way Yugi can get down. Yami's leg glances against his shoulder far-too-hard and he can practically feel the claws of the beasts overhead, scraping across his others cheeks.

It's not their fault; it's not their fault…

He can feel them, and hear them too, the shockwaves of the creatures attack at just over a hundred miles per hour. The shock sends both of Yugi's hands flying from the steering wheel. Overhead, he hears Yami yelling but can't quite make out what he's saying.

It's not their—

His eyes aren't on the road any longer.

—Fault.

And a few seconds later, neither is the vehicle.

TBC.