A/N: Well, this would have been up Sunday afternoon, but due to some technical difficulities on this site... Meh. Here it is!

A/N: An update, at last. As I believe I warned you, I am currently in the middle of what my drama teacher calls 'The Half Term from Hell'. Even though we're only building up to the Mocks rather then the real GCSEs, it's pretty tough; so, um… don't expect the next chapter for about another month. Thanks everybody!

As for this chapter, though, it's been a nightmare to write. All action. And I hate writing action sequences. Bleah. I do have FLASHBACKS though! Yay! Heh… I'm sorry, you've had to wait ages, and it's not the best chapter in the world… Meh. Here it is, anyways.

Disclaimer: I'm sick of typing these. Just assume it goes without saying from now on, okay?

We begin with a little look back at Penelope's final moments, and then we head into the darkness of another Seto-centric thirteen pages. Have fun…

Thirteen- A Trust

"My mom. My brother." Penelope whispered. "I won't let you do this!" She suddenly launched herself at him, hurling her whole body towards him, landing a punch on his face before he grabbed her arm and twisted her around, and she dropped out of the hatch.

The paper balloons, bright and cheerful in the smoke-filled air, turned and danced around her as she fell gracefully between them, the wind buoying them up and sending them swirling away. The sound of gunshots ceased, and, so high above the panic and disorder below, the only sound was the rushing of wind and the rejoicing sound of a solitary bird song, serenading her to her sleep. Penelope fell, wondering vaguely what she had done with her life, and wishing that things could have been how they used to, when life was so simple. It would have been nice to have talked to her brother again, just once more. She hoped Amane would get through this alright. But, as her few remaining seconds stretched, as endless as the fall before her, she could only wonder- Had she lived right?

Penelope fell through the suddenly peaceful air.

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"Didn't you have somewhere to go, Bakura, or is it your intention to stand underneath falling balloons all day?"

"I'm going! Goodness!" Ryou snapped back. He took a step forward, and then hesitated. "That is… we're going."

Serenity smiled grimly, and nodded.

Seto rolled his eyes and turned away, apparently finding this scene too sickening to bother with, and disappeared back into his domain. There was a man waiting for him there, lazing on one of the fallen metal shelves. Seto knew his name, and he knew what he was able to do. Little older than Seto himself, he had been there, aged only twelve, on the night of Tom Miller's attack. He had been one of the boys at the Orphanage, and even then you could tell what kind of kid he was; able to teleport and using it to pick on Seto's powerless brother. Amon Aiolos, who had not turned his back on the Trust.

"You again. I thought you'd given up when you and Tanith stopped stalking me." Seto stated, emptily. Amon sighed.

"Seto, you've let yourself down. Since when have you been batting for the good team?"

"I don't belong to a 'team'." Seto responded. "My reasons are my own. But what about you, Amon? Reduced to spying on me?"

Amon, standing a head shorter than Seto, with ruffled black hair and harsh, grey eyes, leered. "No, I just got here. When I saw Masquerade heading along past our building, well, I just had to follow him. He was pulled in here- and imagine my surprise when he came back out! You haven't done what was asked of you, Seto- Just like he suspected. Do you really think you'll get away with it?"

"Get out." Seto commanded tiredly. "You saw what I did to Masquerade. Even when we were kids, I beat you without even drawing on my powers. I am a telekinetic of prominence, and you are nothing but a teleport- a power for disappearing, hiding, running away. You don't stand a chance, and we both know it."

Amon shrugged. "Maybe, maybe not. You don't know what I've been up to- and into- these last few years. You could guess… but can you really be sure?"

Seto snorted derisively. "Talking and running. Your two sole talents, Aiolos."

"Oh, I'm very good at talking. I've kept you distracted long enough for some old friends to get here." He smiled, and gestured at the doorway, where two women and a man stood. Slowly, for their faces were in shadows, Seto recognised them.

"Oh, wonderful." He answered, easily. "A reunion."

Lloyd Sullivan and Aoi Motto stepped inside, followed a second later by Tanith Leto, a perfect copy of the old door appearing behind her, effectively closing them off from the outside world. Silence fell as the four slowly surrounded him.

"I warned you I'd ruin that pretty face, but from the looks of that black eye, I missed my chance." Tanith teased, waving a carefully manicured finger. "There's nowhere to run, Seto."

Seto calmly began to remove his coat, tossing it aside. He flexed his fingers slightly, trying to expel the hidden tension. "Who said anything about running?" He smirked.

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The television, on quietly, was not so enchanting that Seto would have kept it on, if it wasn't for two factors.

His parents were out, and the light from the screen chased the darkness away. He and his brother were not yet quite tall enough to reach the light switch, but he could use a remote control. Just as the light pushed away the darkness, the ten pm news pushed away the niggles that his parents should have been home hours ago, they'd only gone out for a few minutes, and how late it was…

"Seto?" Mokuba's anxious voice came in the doorway. He shuffled into the room, climbing awkwardly onto the tall sofa and nuzzling up to his brother. "I'm scared."

'Me to', Seto thought, although, of course, he did not say so. He was too scared even to sleep, unlike Mokuba, who now feeling safe with someone bigger than himself, dropped off immediately. Seto wondered about dragging the toddler upstairs to their room, but thought better of it as he glanced out at the dark hall and shuddered. Mokuba had been very brave to come all this way on his own. Sure, they did it all the time, when their mom and dad were around to stop their late-night explorations. But now, it was something entirely different and more sinister. He shivered, and looked at the television again, where it was showing miles and miles of perfectly still traffic, like tombstones in the night. There had been some sort of accident on the main road to town. People had died. Seto shuddered some more. Death was in the air that night.

"As you can see, cars have been abandoned and left they are; there are people just getting out and walking like some sort of great migration… Experts are saying that a faulty street lamp that had gone out, creating darkness at the junction, was to blame… Three people have been found dead; and now, their families have been informed, so we can give you their names… there was Trent Rowntree, a 36 year old Welsh tourist, and then, of course, there was the couple, pictured here…"

Seto did not need to hear the name as the picture of his parents filled the screen. He had seen this picture many times. Before his granddad had died, it had hung on his wall, a picture of his parents in some sort of bar for their anniversary. They were smiling. The picture was all wrong. How could they be smiling if they were…dead?

He felt numb. He couldn't feel anything. He would have been scared of this new state of nothingness if he could have felt some emotion. But he couldn't. His breathing became quick and shallow. Something was welling up inside him, billowing up inside him, under such pressure; his mind felt fuzzy.

Seto screamed. Groaned. Cried. Made some noise, he didn't know what it was. The television flew across the room, hitting the wall. It woke Mokuba, who screamed, and looked at his brother fearfully, who was kneeling in the middle of the floor, his hands clamped around his head, shaking.

"Dead… Dead… They can't be dead! They're lying! They wouldn't leave us! They're not dead! They're not dead!"

The rage was cold, unforgiving, and as Seto screamed, Mokuba cowered behind the door, watching his brother go mad and the furniture fly around the room with some strange power.

He wished his parents were here.

But they weren't. It was just him and Seto. At least it was some small blessing that he was sufficiently young as to not remember the details for much longer.

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"Do you have any idea what he's going to do to you when he finds out?" Lloyd taunted, steely. He was tall, pale; with his eyes containing a manic delight at this predicament. "Do you know what he'll do to you when you fail to do what he says?"

"Probably whatever he'll do to you, if you're admitting you won't be able to 'deal' with me." Seto answered, tired of this idiotic banter already but unable to let him have the last word.

Luckily, Lloyd was not a patient man. He smirked, the grin growing wider as his canines grew long, curved and serrated. Seto did not so much as flinch. He knew this was not the only power the vampiric creature had. He'd have to be careful.

And then there were the others. There were four of them, and one of him. Some would call it impossible.

Seto called it a challenge.

Lloyd pounced, fangs bared, reaching straight for Seto's neck. He did not so much jump as float, seeming to traverse the distance between them directly through the air. Seto, who had been expecting the attack, ducked, sending the man sailing right over his head and rolling into one of his comrades.

Easy.

Almost… too easy, in fact…

Seto turned just in time. The illusion Tanith had placed over his mind of Lloyd's attack fizzled away as the real enemy launched an arm around his neck and held it there; Seto struggling but unable to get free.

"I've always longed to taste your blood…" Lloyd's voice was harsh and cracked in Seto's ear as his tongue was torn to shreds by his over sized teeth. Some of his blood fell, running unpleasantly down Seto's neck and pooling, a tiny crimson puddle of blood and saliva, on his collar. Seto frowned.

This was his best shirt.

Annoyed now, Seto decided it was time to play the real game. He may not be able to get free on his body strength alone against the supernatural muscle of the vampire, but when it came to powers… Lloyd's arm flew back from Seto's neck with an unpleasant cracking sound, followed by the man's entire body as he was thrown bodily across the warehouse. However, before he could crash into the wall, the floor rumbled and a large pile of soil rose up dramatically, breaking the creature's fall.

So. Aoi Motto had entered the game. She stepped forward.

Seto turned to face her, feeling disgust at her. He had lost his parents so young, and the very fact that there were people out there who could abandon their children as easily as this woman had just-

Shaking beneath his feet!

Seto managed to throw himself out of the way as a geyser of earth exploded up from where he had previously been standing. No more distractions. But the soil was not done yet, roaring up like a living being at it's master's will, catching Seto's back as he tried to scramble up and knocking him flat again. Before he could be completely buried, Seto pitted his concentration and will against it, pushing as a physical force. The dirt hung in the air, uncertain, and wavered, finally flying back towards Motto. She avoided it, glaring, but Seto had expected it. She stepped back, and he mentally grabbed her, tossed her unceremoniously across the room. Her screams fell silent as she crashed onto one of the gargantuan metal shelves, most large enough to park a small car on. She shuddered, but would not be a problem again for a while yet.

Seto turned, searching for his other opponents, but he could not see them. The warehouse was silent, still, the only movement seemingly the throbbing black eye Bakura had given him. They had not left, of that he was sure. Almost certainly, Tanith had put up another of her illusions, showing him an empty warehouse. The question was, was this illusion wrapped just around his mind or around the building itself? And where, and when, would they strike again? The warehouse was not empty. It just looked and sounded like it. He closed his good eye, listening. There! A footstep. The illusion was on the warehouse, not on his mind. He wasn't being forced into imagining things, it was just tricks being played on his eyes. Luckily, not on his ears. There had not been any more footsteps. That almost certainly meant Lloyd was flying down upon him now, like an owl, silent, deadly. No, like a bat. A bat that would always call out at the last moment, to make sure the prey was where it was supposed to be when it sunk it's teeth into the living skin, with echolocation that made the hairs on the back of his neck stand on end. Rather like they were doing… now.

He ducked. The man with the powers of a vampire, common but horrid powers, a curse to those that embraced them, descended to the ground, hissing angrily. He charged forward, but here on the ground, with no illusion between them, Seto evaded easily. He grabbed hold of the muscular arm and tossed him the normal way, straight into Amon, who had just materialised behind him, ready to grab their inconsiderate victim. The two fell, a hissing, shouting tangle. Tanith's sharp laugh reverberated around the room.

"Seto, Seto, Seto…" She said, the three repeats due to the fact there were now three of her. Two were surely illusions and the third the real deal. They spoke in usion now. "Go on, attack, I dare you. Try your luck."

Seto raised an eyebrow. He also attempted to lift all three of them. It was difficult. Just as Tanith couldn't really cast many separate illusions, he could not concentrate on many separate things. Of course, you can't lift what isn't really there.

"Seto, put me down!" Tanith begged, dropping the illusions immediately. "Don't throw me Seto! Please, don't!"

Seto ignored her pleas, knowing full well the woman was completely terrified of heights. He dropped her onto one of the top shelves, above where Aoi Motto was beginning to stir, with one heck of a headache. The two looked down as Lloyd began to approach Seto again, suddenly breaking into a run. A foolish move, but he was too angry now to be thinking. The youngest, but possibly most powerful, hero in the room, side stepped him, and then sent Lloyd crashing into another wall with an awful clang. He was lucky his bones were as strong as they were. The average man would have had bone in his brain. Seto knew he did not have long, and was prepared to make a tactical retreat for now, until he could be more on his own turf. He took a step back.

Amon was suddenly behind him, his arms around Seto's neck, attempting to strangle him. Seto cursed mentally. Four of them, and one of him- and only one eye, to, as the other was still slowly swelling. Not that was his largest problem. It was just hard to concentrate when his air was being cut off. He couldn't focus enough to use his powers at all…

He saw them all closing in on him, surrounding him. Lloyd bared his teeth, a cruel, jagged grin, as Seto choked. He normally carried a dagger, but what use did he have for one when he could use his teeth? There was something so much more satisfying about sinking his own fangs into the flesh, just above the pulse, where the all the right juices would flow, where the pulse was strongest and the skin most tender… But Amon was choking him. Taking out all the air, the very texture and flavour, cooling the food, taking out the rhythm. He leant forward, his broken tongue rasping desperately.

"Amon." He begged. "Amon. Let me have him, Amon. Amon, I must feed, Amon. Let me drink first, Amon."

"He's gone blood-crazy again." Tanith sniffed, dismissing it. "Just finish him off, Amon, and try not to leave too many marks." She blinked down at Seto's face. "I'm impressed. He's hanging on a long time."

"He always has. Stubborn son of a…" Aoi stated, uninterested. "Get on with it, Amon."

"Amon! I need blood!" Lloyd cried, despairingly, as Seto's knees gave way. "I must have blood or I will not have my strength! You need me! I am in charge here! If I do not have blood, I will not fly or-"

Amon sighed. "Whatever. I can't stand seeing you so pathetic." He shoved Seto towards his consumer. "Just do it fast. And don't spill any. We have to make it look like suicide."

But Lloyd was no longer listening. He ran his tongue over his teeth, not even wincing as the flesh caught and tore. The taste of blood was good. It was life. It was good…

However, they had forgotten that Seto had no intention of going quietly.

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Ever since Seto's parents had been found smouldering on the side of the motorway, there had been a lot of things Seto had been unsure of. He was unsure of how his life would turn out, if he would be able to keep his promise to his brother and not use his powers again, if he would survive past his next birthday. Sometimes, especially as he completed Gozaburo's tasks with beaten in ruthlessness, he wasn't even sure who or what he was. But he did know that other people were all out for something. They all wanted something, and if you had to give it to them, you had to get something good in return. Or you just did not give it to them.

Ever since his parents had been found to be suffering from death, Seto had not been able to trust anyone, not even himself. He and his brother had been passed from person to person like a parcel with a blurred address. Some regarded him as some sort of letter bomb, in fact- but perhaps if they ignored him, he'd go away. Others had tried to rip open the packaging, get out what was inside and use it to their own advantage; if Seto liked it or not. He was well used to be exploited. Even at the orphanage, they had tirelessly tried to convince to use his powers, that they could train him to use them for 'good'. Seto might have believed them, but he always remembered Mokuba's face that night when he'd first found what he could do. Nothing that could scare his brother that badly could possibly be right. Or could it? The doubt ate at him. Perhaps, just perhaps, if he used his powers, he could be a real part of the orphanage 'family'. Train with the other children. Play with them. Fight on an equal level when they picked on Mokuba, use something stronger and all together more powerful than his fists.

But he couldn't. He'd promised. And that was why he'd left at the first chance, with the first man who would take his powerless brother in to, who did not know what the orphanage 'specialised' in. He had leapt on a chance and clung to a hope that had slipped quickly from his grasp, wrenched away by the tyrant that now ruled them. Seto worked tirelessly, worked until he was just a shell, worked till he could remember every fact and figure but nothing, nothing, of the boy his parents had taught him to be. There was nothing for that boy, that boy who wanted to belong, in this world. He knew it, and he kept it close to his cooling heart; like larva slowly, tediously cooling to stone; as this man sat before him and spoke decorated words.

"Seto, I'm your social worker. I can get you out of here, away from him."

Seto said nothing. If he was doing his job, they would have left long ago. And there would not have been a catch.

"But last time, you and your brother were… well, dead weight. You have to use your powers, Seto. Otherwise-"

"I'm worthless?" Seto guessed.

"I never said that." The man answered, but did not seem in the least sincere, and made no move to deny that had been what he meant.

"I am not worthless." Seto informed him, calmly. "I'll show you. I'll be great, and I will not use my powers. I'll prove it. I don't need them. I am not worthless."

"Seto, please!" The man pleaded. He was frustrated now. They were sure after a few months with this awful man Seto would have done anything to go back to where he was at least fed without having to recite A Level physics. They'd expected him to have had his spirit broken, for him to be timid and broken. Instead, he stood before them, not like a child, but like a man who's heart had turned away from the world. He seemed to be waiting, biding his time, as though his heart had frozen for now but would thaw when it was good and ready. His mouth held danger in his smile, and as he stood, stiffly, slowly, used not to movement but to sitting cramped over a desk all day. But he did not stand defeated. He stood in anticipation. The man grabbed hold of his arm, preventing him from leaving. Seto glared up at him, and tried to pull away. He could not.

"Go on, Seto." The man taunted. "You and I both know you can get away if you use those powers of yours. Without them, you're trapped, helpless."

Seto bit his lip, struggled, but could not pull free. Not until he moved forward, and began to crawl under the man's chair. Either he let go or he came down with him. The man let go, laughing.

"You're a fighter, I'll give you that. That's just what we need. Come with me." It was supposed to be an order.

"I'm sorry." Seto answered, not looking back as he headed out of the door. "I have work to do, so I have to go. But know this- I'm not for sale. I won't be used anymore. And I won't let my powers out. Never."

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In his last moment of consciousness, Seto felt the fingers loosen around his throat, and felt himself pushed forward. In that instant, air filled his lungs again and that instant was all he needed. He was off balance from the shove, but he used that to his advantage now, bending so his head butted the man in the stomach. Lloyd had a stomach of steel, so it could not really hurt him, but it caught him off guard, and gave Seto the chance to regain his balance, ignoring the resultant headache. He was going to come out of here with a few bruises, that was for sure.

"You…" Lloyd snarled, his voice barely understandable. He took to the air, leaping as only he could. Hastily, Seto caught him in his mental net and, as usual, set him flying across the room and into one of the reinforced metal walls. The poor things could not stand up to such a beating and the abnormally strong man went punching through it like a bullet, leaving jagged hole. And not even a vampire man would get up from that one. Not for a good few minutes, anyway. Before he even had time to catch his breath, Seto found himself being turned around. Aoi Motto, a cold grip on his arm, stared into his eyes. She had regained consciousness and simply brought the ground up to meet her, and so climbed down. She seemed about to say something, but seemed to change her mind. She spat instead, into Seto's good eye, and released him as the ground opened to swallow him, the earth rising like waves to clear a space, a hole, a pit, in the warehouse. As the hole in the floor rumbled open, she came to a sudden realisation that he still had a hold on her arm. He began to slide backwards, towards the chasm, as the ground sloped up beneath them. But he wouldn't let go, and neither would she.

"Drop it." He commanded. "If I fall down there, I'm taking you with me. Drop it."

"Why not just use your powers?" She shot back. "I'm not letting go. Save yourself, and save me to. You're not willing to die just to kill me."

"Neither are you."

The ground was still sloping up, tipping them towards the black pit. Now it was just a battle of wills. They began to fall backwards. Seto had sensed a change in their gradient. It was not becoming any steeper. She was hesitating. He braced his feet, but she continued to slide, ever closer to the hole, until his grip stopped her.

Seto let go. But he, to, was beginning to slide towards that black maw. She smirked up at him, only stopped from slipping over the rim of the hole by the fact Seto was clinging on and she was clinging onto him. Tanith and Amon looked on, seeming a little tired of this, waiting until they could have their turn again.

"Come on, Seto. Give in. I know you have no intention of dying here." Aoi tried again. "Give in."

"No." Seto replied. "I'm not going to die here." He focused on her hand, clamped around his arm, and forced the fingers to slacken, to release their grip.

Aoi realised she was about to topple in and instantly began to release the earth from the waves they were riding upon to fill the hole in again, but it was not quick enough. She fell in, and the ground fell on top of her. Seto came back into contact with solid land again, looking emotionlessly at the place where the hole had been. He turned to face Tanith, who had by now managed to climb down, and Amon.

"Those two were the offensive force." Seto informed them, plainly. "Are you going to fight me to?"

Tanith shrugged. "I'm just here to cover up the mess. You take your time, babe."

"You ought to know something about us." Amon said, quietly. "Particularly about Lloyd."

"Oh?"

"He refuses to die."

Seto whipped around as the serrated fangs were so close to his neck he could smell the blood on them. But it was Lloyd's own blood. He had not feed for some time. His powers were waning, and he was hungry. Seto almost pitted him. The vampire's powers- of strength, of flight, bones of steel and muscles that never tired- were one of the few powers that came with a price. If they did not take regular living blood, they would fade. Most turned their backs on their powers, ignored them until they went away, and lived a normal life. Lloyd had not. But it was a choice. His choice. Lloyd liked the taste of blood, and liked the power it gave him. Seto could not afford him sympathy. He jumped out of the way.

Something grabbed his ankle. Seto glanced down in shock. It was like something from a horror movie. The ground was slowly cracking open, and now, worming out of it, was Aoi's hand. It could take a while before she was completely free, but she didn't seem to have any intention of letting go. These people were not natural. The ground seemed to be fighting to be keeping her beneath it, her movements pained and slow, but she was climbing out, climbing back from the below the ground like the worst kind of zombie. She had nothing lose, and Seto's tired mind could not forced her to let go. Tanith and Amon both came and pinned one of his arms each.

"Well, isn't this nice…?" Lloyd rasped, taking a step forward. Seto looked at the ground, defeated, shaking. Lloyd took another step forward, anticipating that sweet nectar. He lifted Seto's chin, in order to reach his neck. He saw the boy's eyes. They was no emotion in those eyes, no hint of the rage. No iris or pupil or white. They seemed to be glowing, a glistening white, power running through the veins. And then the power exploded. The four of them were tossed aside, Aoi right out of the planet itself, shelves were torn from their bases and clanged against the walls, one section of the roof was pulled down with an almighty crash, leaving swirling debris, and even the very earth beneath the concrete floor seemed ready to tear free of it's roots. Seto Kaiba had entered berserker mode.

The moment passed. Panting from exertion, sweating from the loss of control, Seto knelt on the floor, exhausted. He looked around at the carnage he had caused, and cursed himself mentally. He'd done it again. He struggled to his feet, with the mind to get away, and then felt the hand clamp down on his shoulder. Amon had rematerialised behind him, and though also looking tired and worn, smirked.

"You and me, Seto, like old times."

No choice.

Seto flung a punch towards Amon, who caught it in the face and stumbled backwards, and then charged, a flurry of hits and kicks and punches wherever he could land them; with no method or thought. This was no longer a battle of powers, but a battle of physical strength. Seto didn't feel as though he had either. He tried to focus his mind, to toss Amon away, but it just wasn't there, he'd done too much when he had thought himself done for. It was all he could do to raise an arm to guard himself and throw the occasional punch or kick back.

Both were tired as they choreographed their intricate and malicious dance across what remained of the floor, each spurred on only by an age old feud that had spawned from when Amon had beaten Mokuba and Seto had beaten him. It seemed to wear on, beyond thought, beyond conscious decisions, just lashing out and being hit. They leapt over broken shreds of metal and concrete, ducked under scraps of the collapsed roof, stumbled over the slowly stirring Trustees. Still, they fought on. Aiming for Amon's stomach, Seto numbly realised that Amon had not been involved in fighting the others as he had. He was tired and could not keep this up for much longer. He was going to be beaten, he knew that.

But he could not accept it. He had to go down fighting. He pushed his tired legs and arms on, and on, until they would not fight any more.

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It had been the usual evening of barely veiled threats, boasts and small talk that came with a corporate business party. As far as Seto was concerned, the two words should never be mixed. As he waited on the stairs, finally ready to go, he stared out of the window at the London skyline, watching Big Ben chime another hour. He wondered what time it was in Tokyo, and if Mokuba was enjoying the time without their stepfather around. Probably not. The butler was left in charge, and Mokuba, usually ignored, was probably being worked harder then ever. Seto couldn't wait to go home. But right now, he couldn't wait to leave this party; even if, on some level, he was grateful for the break from work. He never had holidays. He'd been quite surprised to learn it was almost Christmas. He'd known it was winter, of course, but he'd lost track of the days long ago. He didn't know that his days were supposed to be numbered, and that a butcher lay in wait for him on the stairs.

"Seto! Hurry up, or I'll leave you here on this god forsaken Island and go back to Japan alone!"

Seto jumped at his stepfather's voice, and tore his gaze and thoughts away from the skyline. He took one last look at the Thames, sorely tempted to jump in as he heard Gozaburo walking away, still complaining.

"That kid! I bring him all the way out here to see how real business is done, and the ungrateful brat just stands in a corner all night, moping, and speaking only to correct his betters…!"

Gozaburo was leaving. Seto could just stay here, and not move. Find a new life in London. For a second, he was tempted by the sweet taste of freedom, but it passed. He could not leave Mokuba, and that, perhaps, was the reason the boy had not been brought on this trip. Sighing, he headed down the next set of steps, until it turned a corner, hastening after his master.

"…Seto?"

There was a man standing by the telephone box on the landing. Seto glanced over at him, sure he didn't know him, but paused in his step.

"I… I have to…"

Seto began to move away, half-knowing what was under that jacket, and what purpose it served, and half curious. He couldn't help but hope this was someone to take him away, to get him out of here, to rescue him and his brother… But the hope had long since gone from him, replaced by a careful cynicism. He began to move towards the stairs, but not fast enough. The man pulled out a knife, and advanced towards Seto; backing him into a wall. Seto had no choice but to die.

He looked up into the man's eyes, saw the uncertainty there, and suddenly, he knew. He knew that this had not been the man's choice. He knew the guy had everything to lose. Seto closed his eyes, perhaps a gesture of forgiveness, perhaps acceptance, perhaps something else entirely. He was resigned. He had known since he had refused the trust that it had to happen one day. In some ways, it felt quite peaceful. Life had not been wonderful to him, but it wouldn't be troubling him much longer. He hoped Mokuba would have the sense to escape from Gozaburo. He'd have no reason to stay.

Why hadn't the man done it yet? Get it over with…

"I…" His attacker faltered. There was the sound of breaking glass, and the pressure of the man's arms left his. Seto opened his eyes. This was quite unexpected.

A guy in a mask was on top of his would-be killer, pinning him down. The attacker was crying silently. The masked face turned towards Seto.

"Phone the police. You know the number?"

Seto did not answer, stabbing '999' into the phone next to him. It was at this point Gozaburo decided to reappear.

"What is going on here?!" He demanded, blustering.

"He tried to kill me." Seto stated, as though saying it was raining, and then turned to talk to the police.

Gozaburo stared down at the mask. "And you? You're that hero vagrant I've been hearing about, aren't you?! I'll thank you not to interfere!"

"Your son almost died!" The hero answered, angrily.

"He is not my son."

The words meant nothing to Seto as he hung up. He looked down on his attacker, his face expressionless.

"They're going to kill you, lad." The broken man whispered. "At whatever cost, they will kill you."

"They have to beat me first." Seto responded, but he shuddered internally. It was just a matter of waiting now. Waiting until they tried to kill him again, and living until they succeeded.

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Seto's legs finally gave up the struggle and buckled, Amon forcing him down, kneeing his stomach, his neck, his face. He saw them surrounding him as he fell to the floor, but then his eyes collapsed to, and he was helpless; lying on his back on a cold cement floor, far from any hope of rescue, surrounded by people that wanted to kill him. He could not hear what they were saying, and could not sense their movement, his body too tired to feel. It was quiet here, so quiet. It seemed a good time to review the situation.

He had no idea how he had ended up in such a precarious position. He should have just stopped Bakura and been done with it. His moral values had certainly chosen their moment to reassert themselves. He had certainly had them, once. He struggled to remember that time, back before the Orphanage and Gozaburo and the Trust, back when he was a child. And then his parents had died, and once things started to go wrong, they did not stop. He'd made plenty of mistakes in his time. Things had finally snowballed out his control. He had sworn not to serve the Trust. He had sworn that he would not use his powers that had caused so much damage at his home and nearly broken his relationship with Mokuba. He'd stuck to that religiously- until now. He had thought he could make it on his own, without his powers, but without them he had only gone so far. He'd given in and let them out. He had always known his powers would be his downfall. Now he had broken his promise to his brother. He had used his powers, and he wouldn't be able to protect Mokuba anymore as a result. All he could do was lie there and wait. As the blackness before his eyes slunk into his mind, shutting it down, he knew he would not wake up. All he could do was let himself fall unconscious, and wait for them to do their thing. There was just too many of them.

He had failed. For the first time, he had failed. And there would be no making up for it.

The Trust were beginning to finish with him, their eyes set on a greater prize- Masquerade. Seto had taken longer than expected, too long. If the hero stopped the Pyromaniac before they did, the Japanese Government would have been saved for free. And that would not do. Ignoring Seto's motionless body for the moment, they began to head towards the exit.

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"We need to get up there." Masquerade said, frustrated. He and Serenity had withdrawn slightly, watching the police shoot in futile hope at the plane drifting leisurely across the sky above them. "When will they realise this won't work?! I'm tempted to fly up there regardless…"

Serenity gripped his arm fearfully. "Ryou, you can't. You'll get shot."

"I'd like to see them try." Masquerade snarled back, but was defeated. He knew the police wouldn't stop now, and his arm was protesting from the last time it had almost been shot. The wound was still tender, and seemed to pick it's moments to hurt whenever he was in the most trouble. It was painful now. "But I can't just-"

"What the hell is that?!" Ayako screamed. "Stop the guns! Stop the guns!"

The two looked up at where the Police were gawping, and then saw her. Falling, between the small hot air balloons, a girl. Falling fast. To her death.

There was nothing to be done. People began to shout, move around, but what could they do. With a jolt, Masquerade realised it was Penelope. Then, suddenly, he seemed to wake up, and tugged on the air around her, making it thicker, slowing her fall; but the air had to come from somewhere and there was only so much he could do without suffocating anyone. Desperately, just as he had for the girl preparing to jump off the Remington Bridge all those months ago, he pulled every once of air lurking beneath the road, roaming uselessly in the sewers and drains, up and forming a soft, springy cushion. Penelope fell onto it, and as she shakily climbed to her feet, he let it drop. She looked over at him, meeting his eye for a second, and then began to silently cry.

"You okay, Miss?" Ayako asked, pushing towards her. Penelope ignored the police chief, shoving past her, and heading over to Masquerade. The chief looked like she wanted to stop her, but then gave up. "Okay, these guns aren't working! We need a new strategy! Hiwari, Minida! Get over here and tell me what you've got…"

"Ryou…" Penelope whispered, now they were out of ear shot. "…Why… why did you have to do that? Why did you save me? It was me- I was the one who got Amane kidnapped, the one that put everyone in danger… and you, you… you were supposed to be evil. It was supposed to be for the greater good. How can I… believe you're evil if you just keep… saving me and… and…"

"We've all made mistakes." Ryou said, from the safety behind his mask. "…I'm sorry for what happened to your brother."

Penelope shook her head. "It… it wasn't your fault."

Ryou said nothing, but relief flooded him. His mouth dry, he tried to speak. "I… I'm so glad… I've been feeling so guilty."

"We've all made mistakes." Penelope repeated his words, her voice stronger now. "Ryou… Forgive me?"

"As long as you don't hate me any more."

"I just needed someone to blame. I'm sorry."

"There's no need. I'm sorry…"

Penelope shook her head, and then hugged him; relief at having her old friend back running through them both. Her brother was unobtainable, but Ryou and Amane had always been the next best thing. Two out of three wasn't bad. "Man, I've missed you. It's been hard to hate you. But… it will never be like it used to be, will it?"

"No."

"…Let's go get Amane, and get on with our lives."

"Now you're talking."

She released him, and Ryou immediately turned to Serenity, who had turned away in slight embarrassment and, perhaps, even resentment. She looked at him reluctantly, but inside his mask, she could not read his expression. If she could, she would have seen that he was worried; but it was a harsh worry that knew no fear, a new recklessness with very little to lose.

"Ready?" He asked her.

"Yes."

"Alright." The three looked up at the jet above them, and silently wondered what would befall them within it.

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Joey saw them, the three of them, standing looking at the plane. Masquerade, Penelope, Serenity. He saw Penelope hugging the hero, but could not hear the words. He knew they planned to go up on that plane, and he had half a mind to intervene and stop his sister doing such a crazy thing. But he was beginning to realise that she had to fight for herself. Besides, Penny and Masquerade would look after her.

Especially if Masquerade was who his disbelieving brain was beginning to figure he was.

Joey may have been allowing Serenity to do what she had to do, but that didn't mean he didn't intend to help. He took a step forward as Masquerade began to move.

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There is a time for everything under Heaven. That's what I'm told. There's a time to cry, Serenity told me that. There's a good reason to cry. You have to, sometimes.

But there is a time to stop crying. That time is now. There's a time to stop thinking and just act. There's a time just to stop.

And go.

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A/N: Ah, I have to go out kinda now, which is why the monologue is so short. (Sweatdrop) My bad, but I really want to update… Anyways, moving swiftly on:

Amane still thinks Pyro killed Penelope- what lengths will she go to for revenge? What lengths can she go to when chained to a wall? What will become of poor Seto… and his brother? On the subject of brothers, just what are Joey and Ryou going to do next? Will they survive doing it? Join me for the penultimate chapter- A Superhero Story Fourteen- A Rebel…

Thanks for reading:D