His hands shimmered with the aftermath of the flames, his frame quivered under the burden of exuding so much power.
He remembered nothing about how he returned to the familiar golden walls, or how he had crawled into its core to cast his cares away with a sleeping spell strong enough to induce a coma. And, yet, sleep was cruely elusive, and he felt nothing but his own body's plea for rest, and the Puzzle's silence. So, Yami found himself hunched over into a protective crouch,
his hands laced tight over his knees, his cloak drawn up in an effort to make himself smaller. He stared for hours at his hands, mused about the fire that surged through their torpid veins, trying to reconcile the noble Pharoah who had sacrificed himself as an offering for his people, to the vicious monster who tore his own high Priest to shreds. Yami whimpered at the memory-not necessarily at the memories of that priest's last moments, but the overwhelming, sickening satisfaction that he felt. Yami supposed he could have justified it.

Yami absently ran a finger over the brutal scars that forever marred his flesh and felt his own lips twist into a snarl, unbiddingly. There was precious little evidence in his own existance that he had done anything to deserve his fate, either.And for all his fierce, regal pride that he was forced to maintain until it was both a fortress he could retreat to, and a habit he could not break, Yami knew, with sudden, tortured clarity, that none of it mattered, now. His hands were forever tainted with the blood of a victim. When he had the chance to show mercy, he relished the fear, the pain, the suffering, loved the dizzying, godlike power of severing an existance. Yami did not know if he was simply drunk on the power of the kill, or if the Puzzle had finally succeeded in making him a monster.

And all of his thoughts of justification crumbled under the horrible weight of that admission. Being stripped of his pretentions, and forced to face his own demons scared him far more than any manifestion the Puzzle could bring forth.
And Yami shivered when he realized that the Puzzle was now spiraling back into itself, and quite hungry for a confrontation.

With a groan, Yami rose to his feet, crossed his arms over his chest, and narrowed his violet eyes in consideration as the Puzzle merged with its gold, and simply lingered in the air, drawing closer to Yami than he liked, but making no move to provoke him, more than usual. Yami was grateful for that. His defenses were far too weak, and he was still too heart-sick from his self-torture to mete out any more punishment or defend himself. And from the dangerous quiver that gripped his stomach, Yami was certain he wouldn't be able to, anyway.

He could feel the Puzzle relishing his vulnerablilty, and he winced as he felt the teasing glide brushing besides his mental shields like a cat might, as he fought the sudden urge not to cry out from the frustration.

"My king." The Puzzle's silken delivery began, as Yami stiffened, but did not visably flinch.

Yami simply stared, raising an eyebrow in inquiring challenge. "Yes?"

The Puzzle gave a particularly vicious blow to one vulnerable weakness in his shield, and Yami bit his lip to choke down the resulting pain that reverberated through his being. It felt like a gong might feel after a hard strike.

"You are far too weakened from your illusions to even attempt to protect yourself now, and we both know it. Do not mock me by pretending my suprise blow did not cause you a great deal of suffering. I have had over a thousand years to know how to hurt you."

Yami's face contorted as the Puzzle hit even harder. His rib throbbed, and from the tingling, warm wet that was trickling down his throat,
he could feel the scar was reopened and bleeding.

"You will desist this imediately." Yami gave a majestic growl as he drew himself up, though he knew that he would no longer be able to stand in a few moments.

He could feel the insidious gnawing of the Puzzle's subtle attack against him, biting here and there, stripping away a bit more of his essence the way a hungry rat might consume him one piece at a time. The Puzzle seemed to pay his order no heed, and Yami simply had no strength to retaliate.

He did not know that saving the child would mean that he would be sacrificing himself all over again.

"My king, you amuse me, with your lofty intentions. Do you realize that you are now being punished for saving the life of that child?
Had you honored your own darkness, you would be delighting in the victory of an easy kill, not almost falling on your knees and fighting the urge to plead for mercy."

Yami's lip curled in dismissal, as he opened his mouth to reply in regal scorn. The Puzzle glittered with malice as it drew back its hungry maw in expectation.

Yami felt the horrible sliding of his soul as it recoiled into the darkest recesses of his mind. The Puzzle was steadily clawing at his defenses, by then, and Yami shuddered at the invasion.

The Puzzle felt Yami's pain, drank it in as affirmation, flung open its own resources wide, and prepared to beat the weakening Pharoah into submission.

Yami felt the brutal blow against his shield, and he cringed to feel it shatter like glass, the shards fragmenting and cutting away at his spirit. He felt the Puzzle's victory, its glee, as he staggered like a wounded animal, and brought trembling hands to his head, unable to speak, unable to cry, or plead, as he felt the darkness rising to claim him.

. Every memory that he had ever lived through had been called forth by the Puzzle, each one clinging to his tortured soul for audience, as his mind was flooded with too much sensation and pain and dizzying chaos to maintain any of it. The Puzzle watched as Yami's fingers splayed uselessly, the fire instinctively rising without the consent or the control of its master, as the flames shot forth, only to sputter and die into pathetic wafts of smoke

He heard the Puzzle laugh at the sad display, and Yami's eyes were filled with tears at the humilation and the shame from losing control of his most basic self-protection, as the Puzzle happily tore through him.

"Very, very pretty fireworks, my king. If that spell was from an infant, it would be the equivalent of soiling one's self, would it not?" The Puzzle whispered sarcastically, as Yami's cheeks flamed in humilation, and helpless tears coursed down his cheeks.

The Puzzle's only answer was a mocking caress against his cheek, as Yami shuddered and tried to jerk his face away. The Puzzle noted with satisfaction the tremble of fear as Yami closed his eyes and desperately tried to block out the sickening violation of his soul.

It was to no avail.

Yami felt the fire against his scars, and he brought a shaking hand to his throat with a cry, as he sank to his knees, the tears openly flowing, mingling with the blood, and dribbling down his once white tunic, as the Puzzle gleefully continued inflicting its shards across his soul, as he shuddered, and sobbed, and clawed at his temples in a futile gesture to make the pain stop.

The torture may have continued for hours, or years, as the poor Pharoah lay suspended in the womb of agony, with no release or respite from the continual dark pain, and the crushing sensation against his mind.

The Puzzle paused for a brief moment, happily noting Yami's broken, wailing sobs, as the Pharoah only babbled incoherently in a heaved out plea...

"No more of this...please...no more..."

And the Puzzle stopped its torment, if only in preparation for another round. Yami sent a desperate plea to the waiting shadows, and found himself swooning into the dark.