Hello Ladies and Gentleman!!!! (do I even have any male readers? LOL O_o;;;) First off, I apologize for the brevity of this chapter. But I think it deserves its own chapter….. (I have chapters in my real book this length too). Also, I just want to let you know that my internet is on the fritz. As in… for the last couple of days I've only been allowed (by the internet) to get on three times or so for periods of about twenty seconds. (I'm actually using my neighbor's internet right now. 8DDDDD;;; OHOHOHOHOHO.) So if I don't reply quickly, that's why—I actually had to move at lightspeed to get chapter 3 up, so be happy for that. 8DDDDD Yes, I'm hard at work on 5 and it's already 8 pages long Orz|||| Now that I'm done with that d*mn chapter 3 I'm having a lot of fun, so…. I hope you guys like the way it goes from here. :3 And if you don't understand what's going on in this chapter, don't worry. All will be explained. For those of you who DO know what's going on (and it wouldn't surprise me if most of you do [what with the description of the story and all]), congratulations. 8DD;;; I can explain more in the comments of Chapter 5 I suppose…. Oh well. 8DDDD;;; Enjoy reading!

~The Author-lady

Chapter 4 -_-_- A Place I'm Not Used To

Yami Bakura opened his eyes and looked around him. He was in the dim chamber of the Room of his Mind; scarlet flames set on long gold stands blazed in the four corners around the raised platform in the center of the room, casting a red light over everything. He scoffed and put his arms behind him, keeping him in a reclined position. He remembered everything, as far as he could tell—fighting Yami in his shadow game, the horrible defeat from the Dark Magician, wrestling with Yami to steal the puzzle. Hmph. He'd thought he was so damn clever when he tried to part Yami's soul from the pyramid-shaped object, but that damn Pharaoh had swept in and used his own power to try and place himself back. He wondered slightly how that fight had ended—he and Yami had been fighting, and then everything vanished. And now he awoke here, in the Room of his Mind. Had the Shadow Realm punished them both by casting their souls to the shadows? Was this what it was like to wither there? Captured in the room of your own mind, doomed there to eternity? He could take some comfort in the fact that he had damned the Pharaoh to the shadows, but he was too frustrated taht this meant he could no longer achieve his own ends.

He leaned back further, giving the room a passing glance. No… something seemed alive in him. Or as alive as a 5,000-years-dead spirit can feel. He wasn't in the shadows. Was he still in his host? In the ring? Did this mean the Shadow Realm had simply annulled the game after Yami Bakura's transgression?

How merciful of it.

Yami Bakura felt deep in his own conscience through to his connection with his host. The connection was dull and closed off—dammit, his host was so deeply unconscious that Yami Bakura couldn't even take control of the body. He pushed himself into a fully sitting position and crossed his arms over his chest. What a bother. It'd been a while since he'd been stuck in this chamber—for the last few weeks he'd been piloting Bakura's body almost non-stop, working it to a level that his host's pathetic body clearly couldn't handle. Really, his reincarnation was useless. He had never been that weak, even in the days of his earliest youth.

The room reflected that youth—the walls were made of sandstone, most likely yellow, though the red light made them look orange. Those that weren't hidden in shadow, of course. The room was circular, reflecting the shape of the Millennium Ring, which housed his soul. There was nothing in the room but a single door in the far wall, and the raised platform in the middle, less than a foot above the ground, with its four torches blazing a foot away from each corner. In the middle of the dais sat the Millennium Stone—not the real one, of course, but it nonetheless reflected which items were in his possession.

The stone had had only the Millennium Ring for far too long.

He reached backwards without looking to stroke the polished curve of the Millennium Ring and met only air.

Yami Bakura whirled around in shock. The Millennium Ring! It was gone! His fingers searched frantically in the divot set for it near the middle of the stone idol, but it wasn't there. He began to grow frantic. Where was it?! Where was the Millennium Ring?! This was his mind! He couldn't just lose it! He clasped frantically at his chest, at his neck, looking in his shirt. But he wasn't wearing the Ring, either.

It was gone.

He mind was reeling with shock and a sudden sense of emptiness. No! It was impossible! The Ring was his! It had been his for 5,000 years, it housed his very soul! How could it be… He couldn't even think of the word, it made him sick.

He put his hand down, and a stabbing pain suddenly shot up his arm. He looked at his hand, and saw that it had landed near the neck of the idol. He didn't move his hand for a second. The chaos in his mind had suddenly been washed away, swept away by a thought. It felt like a… spike. Or a corner of something was sticking into his hand.

Very slowly, he lifted his hand and brought it to his side.

There, glinting almost evilly in the red light, was the Millennium Puzzle. It was sitting awkwardly in its space, which was why one of its corners stood up instead of being hidden away by the stone.

Yami Bakura's mind was empty with shock, empty with ideas and a realization he knew was completely true. He fit it into its slot so it sat correctly, the ever-watching Eye of Horus glaring up at him. There was no loud bang, or flash of light, or stream of sparks. It just sat there, existing.

Yami Bakura looked up, and instead of the flat ceiling, he noticed that the four sides of the chamber all tilted upwards, their meeting points left in shadow. He looked around, and noticed that the room was no longer circular, but multi-sided.

He laughed darkly.