A/N: Again, thanks to all who are reading and/or reviewing :)

I realised that Aten was not the creator God, nor is he a very pleasant God to name Yuugi after. But since I've already tweeked stuff in other chapters, I'll keep it that way. Again, lots of explanatory notes at the end.

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Apophis was the most dangerous of the chaos monsters who constantly threatened the divine order. As the negative counterpart to the snake form of the creator god, he was not easily destroyed. Legend had it that every night, Apophis attacked the boat of the sun god as it passed through the underworld. He was beaten back and slaughtered but, no matter how many times he was killed, he never stayed dead. The majority of souls siding with the creator god, both living and dead, joined to defeat him. While the dead battled him and his few followers, the living performed rituals in temples to ensure his defeat. All aspects of his being: his body, his name, his shadow and his magic, were cursed and no one wanted to bring this curse upon himself by creating any affiliation with this being. (1)

But for someone with nothing left to fear, this was the ironic ray of hope he needed. Apophis, who yielded to no one (especially not a mortal) heard his prayers and was intrigued. The deity had never witness such desperation, such willingness to reach out to the dark forces or such unwillingness to shrink away from him. He'd held back and watched as night after night, the mortal would beckon him, first with mere prayers, and later with sacrifices of increasing size. The advantage for Apophis in granting this mortal his wish was minimal, yet it was his jealousy that compelled him to do so. His army was miniscule compared to the legions behind the creator god and, although he was unbeatable regardless of the size of his army, he was always envious of his opponent.

He came upon Bakura in the form of a crocodile (2). The first indication of his presence was a sudden, abrupt, shake of the earth that was so short lived that few realised it even occurred. The crocodile slithered his way unnoticed toward Bakura's tent where he found the white-haired human preparing to slit the throat of a bull he'd spent the majority of his day capturing.

"You have not eaten today." Bakura turned at the hallowed, disembodied voice that seemed to hover around the crocodile. He locked eyes with it once before relinquishing his hold on the bull and dropping to his knees. The massive creature galloped away in a fury, desperately seeking escape from the thick, foreboding aura.

Bakura could not remember the last time he prostrated himself. Particles of dirt wafted up his nose and made him irritable but he could do nothing more for god himself.

"You sought my audience, now tell me what you want."

For a moment, Bakura was incomprehensive. He was robbed of all senses, both in body and mind, and could do nothing but crouched like a feeble dog. He was well aware that the presence of the true Apophis would probably have killed him. "I want what I justly deserve." The words were drawn from his throat.

"Why not summon the creator god?"

"He is on the side of my foe."

"And you believe that will compel me to help you?"

"It compelled me to seek you."

The crocodile flared his nose. He wasn't impressed by what he saw but he sensed potential in this beggar. He'd rarely seen any human so pathetically devoted and, in a twisted way, selfless. For one, the man was willing to burn away a meal that could have lasted him ten fortnights. There was no point in asking what the human could do for him since he really couldn't do much at all. Apophis was arrogant, he liked to be worshipped, and since he had so few followers, he was very sensitive to the brief pockets of the living and dead who bowed to him.

"You will have no choice but serve me with all your being after this point."

Bakura agreed, but it soon became apparent that the mind of a god was very different from that of a human. His Ka was the first to feel Apophis' poison. Diabound had been a direct reflection of Bakura. It was a lowly but stealthy canine that relied on agility instead of strength. It aided the amateur thief in his many excursions through the market, acting as a distraction here, footstool there, and the like. The hybrid human-snake form it too thereafter was all due to the dark god and would later prove to change the nature of Bakura's occupation drastically. Bakura's Ba was taken from him as proof of this binding contract. As a result, his being became ephemeral, translucent, viable to change and transformation. However, this also meant he was doomed to wander the surface world, robbed of the opportunity for eternal peace with the gods in the afterlife. At the moment, he didn't care. Fuelled by his blinding hatred and unquenchable thirst for revenge, Bakura offered everything Apophis desired, even if this meant losing part of himself in the process. The ritual left him momentarily paralyzed in agony and disbelief. He arose more god than man and more a vassal than someone with a will of his own.

Guidance from his god assured his victory but the inhuman lust for revenge simply could not be satiated. As the god's eternal jealousy burned with a fiery passion, so did Bakura's. This evil twisted and grew within him like an unkempt vine, eventually becoming an addition that demanded sustenance. There had to be another route for the self proclaimed thief king and, indeed, there was. Apophis had anticipated this and, with an invisible hand, guided his puppet back to the weapon that instigated it all, Mahaado's Ring. Both immediately saw potential in the noble yet proud Seto, cousin of the late pharaoh and son of the infamously shrewd Akunadin. This was exactly where Bakura struck. Using the usurped power of the Millennium Ring, Bakura implanted a part of his spirit deep within the unsuspecting High Priest. Although small, this seed would germinate in due time, gradually polluting the priest from the inside.

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Like a clap of thunder, the sound of the gong ripped through the room as the crimson curtain parted and Seto stepped through in measured paces. On either side of him nobles and high ranking officers prostrated themselves in his presence as he made his way towards the throne. At its height, the sun shone through the many windows in the throne room, illuminating the golden chamber with great intensity. The inlay of jade on the stone pillars flanking the North and South walls of the palace shone with a captivating green, a reminder of the mysterious Asian countries from which it came. He gradually closed in on the singular throne at the centre of the East wall. Mirroring the relatively minuscule seat on both sides was a careful depiction of the creator god's snake form accompanied by a rather large rendition of the Eye of Horus (3).

Although this breached protocol, there was no other way to get Yuugi to comply with this without someone essentially forcing him down the isle behind Seto. Although mute, the little one was largely aware of what this ceremony entailed and did the best he could to make the process as difficult for those around him as possible. He hid from the servants who brought him his robes for the occasion and ran from anyone who tried to reason with him. Even Anzu and Jou had very little luck and, as servants, failed further in trying to explain the context of the ceremony. In the end, there was nothing left to do but drag the child into a separate room and beat him until he complied (this was done by Shimon who had wanted to do this for a very long time).

"He's never been beaten before." Anzu said in a hushed voice as she and Jou secretly watched from an entranceway off to the side.

"Yeah…" Was the sad reply, "But he'll get used to it."

Anzu bopped the blonde on the head in irritation, "How dare you suggest this will happen again!"

"Well," And in his blunt honesty, Jou turned up to meet the older girl's gaze with a matter-of-face expression, "Look at the way he's bein,' they don't got a choice."

She couldn't help but agree.

Seto was somewhat conflicted. While the enjoyed the attention and promised status, the fact that a child was being dragged noticeably against his will behind him by a highly irritated old man produced a different overall effect. He tried to maintain a composed demeanour but every so often those blue eyes would turn to his peripheral at the sound of dubious rustling and harsh whispers. Maintaining the same pace as the child without knowing when he'd stop or go was also an inconvenience.

Yuugi winced and sucked in a breath as Shimon jerked his arm forward, aggravating a green bruise the old man had recently given him, "Keep marching, child!" Shimon rasped sternly, careful to keep the words between them.

He stumbled onwards, unable to match the stride of the older men but not really trying either. At one point he let himself purposely fall against the old man's back, causing both to lurch forward unexpectedly and almost running into the relatively oblivious Seto who'd kept walking like nothing was happening. Although almost everyone in the room had their faces to the ground, they could hear the awkward noises and quickly lost patience for it.

"This is a sacred and very, very important ceremony, do you understand?" Shimon held the boy in place by the shoulders and turned Yuugi's chin upwards so the watery purple eyes would meet his gaze, "It's not about you, it is about the entire country, so behave or I will not hold my hand later on."

Yuugi gritted his teeth and frowned defiantly. He stood his ground unmoved, challenging the old mage. Seto had kept walking, unaware of the events behind him and it was only after Shimon cleared his throat loudly that Seto turned around, noticed the gap between them, and proceeded to close it as inconspicuously as possible.

"We will finish this!" Shimon rasped, anger permeating his tone like dye diffusing through water, "And I will pick you up and cart you to the throne if I have to."

The mage went to grab for the boy but Yuugi smacked Shimon's hands and backed away. At this distance, the prince could run if he wanted to and both Anzu and Jou prayed that he wouldn't. The old man and the young child stared each other down, the tension growing as they plotted their next move. Seto stood patiently with his back to the two, listening intently to the struggle behind him and silently counting the number to paces to his destination.

"For once don't do this," Shimon begged, gesturing to those on the ground, "You have all these people, with their faces to the ground (to the ground!) and all of the people outside who have travelled days (days!) for this, do you understand what I am saying child? Do you understand?"

Yuugi looked around the room at those bowing to the High Priest and himself as well. He remained stationary, enormous eyes pleading for the man to understand.

"What's he doin' down there, Anzu?" Jou pointed to the odd scene at the centre of the room.

"I…don't know. But I hope it's not going to turn bad."

"The prince won't do anything bad."

Anzu looked at the boy beside her in bewilderment, "Why do you say so?"

"I think he knows better."

"He does."

"We do this so we can have a future, my prince," Shimon continued, unsure of what Yuugi really wanted, "So all of us can have a future, including you."

Yuugi looked down at his protruding belly.

"And I'm only asking you to participate because I know you can." That was a partial lie but it seemed like a good argument at the time, "It's what Great Egypt would want, what your father would want as well."

The prince's lip quivered at the mention of his father and his eyes glistened with wetness once more, blurring his vision.

Shimon held his hand out, "Come now, the people will one day look to you, so do this, for them."

A few people turned their heads up to see what was happening, finding it difficult to do so without notice from the High Priest. Seto remained patient, waiting out the process with full knowledge he'd have to deal with this attitude for years to come. He wasn't going to be bothered by a child of all things. It was only after Yuugi caught sight of Anzu and Jou from far back in the distance that his attitude saw a dramatic change. Without fully comprehending what was going on, they nodded enthusiastically and urged him forward. Jou gave his big old grin that only Jou could muster without looking completely idiotic and Anzu's smiled with the whole of her countenance.

The last ten steps went smoothly as Shimon held Yuugi's hand all the way to the throne. When they finally climbed the last staircase to the top, Yuugi stood obediently and waited. The three counsellors stood in the places: Shimon represented the spiritual body, a man by the name of Bato stood for the temporal body of the state and Honda, captain of the palace foot soldiers, stood for the military authority. The three lifted High Priest Seto to the throne of Egypt and placed the prince on his lap. This union was highly uncomfortable for both the prince and his uncle for obvious reasons. However, Seto held the boy firmly in place for practical rather than ceremonial purposes. The chorus of people stood at the sound of the gong and raised their voices in royal salute to cheer the new regent and the prince to the great throne of Egypt. Those outside the palace heard the shouts and joined in the celebration, their voices carrying into the room right up to the throne.

Shimon strapped the false beard of the kingship upon the High Priest's chin. Lord Bato bound the lion's tail around his waist and settled the red and white crown of upper and lower Egypt on his brow. Finally, Honda stepped forward to place the golden crook and flail in his hands. These two symbols of Egyptian Gods and kings entrapped Yuugi to Seto, binding him where he sat. He watched through the hooked ends as, one by one, the great lords of Egypt knelt before the throne and swore their allegiance (4). The last to do this was Honda, who Yuugi recognize as the man who impeded him in his quest to find his father.

The gong clanged once more, signally the start of the festivities. In a blink of an eye, the political overtones of the situation became one of mirth and celebration as people flooded into the room in a whirl of colours. The place soon proliferated with cooks (and their meals), performers and people from a wide range of rank. They celebrated the start of a new beginning and the promises of freedom and prosperity that was soon to follow. Only one person in the room felt trapped: the one bound by the crook and flail, the one whose voice was silenced and the one who would never get the claim the throne as his own.

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Osiris stared at the comatose body on the stone slab in front of him. The arms of the former pharaoh were neat folded across his chest and a serene expression graced his countenance. The five great gods, including Anubis, master of the dead, surveyed him for days on end, probing the recesses of his mind and treating his Ba with spells to force the resurfacing of knowledge long dead. Their search produced nothing important except for a strange piece of debris found lodged in his brain. It was a scale, that Osiris was sure of but who the scale actually belonged to was a different matter. He held the thing up to the light with a fine pair of tongs, examining it for the hundredth time. A microscopic black speck dotted its peripheral, something he'd failed to notice before, and, upon closer inspection, the speck dissipated in a tiny smoke of black. Nothing did that. No, that wasn't true. There was something that could do that and Osiris shook at the thought. This was none other than the enemy's doing.

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Notes:

(1) and (2): This description of Apophis was taken from Geraldine Finch's Egyptian Mythology: A Guide to the Gods, Goddesses, and Traditions of Ancient Egypt. Apophis can appear in the form of a snake or a crocodile but snakes were not regarded as evil in Ancient Egypt. For one, the creator god sometimes took the form of a snake.

(3) This description of the throne room was taken from episode 201 (so you can't say it's not canon!)

(4) The general outline of this ceremony was taken from Wilbur Smith's River God. I'm not completely sure this one's fact or fiction though.

Also, since this story is taking a turn for the depressing, I've written a one-shot side story to it:

Title: I Hate it
Summary: For his third birthday, Atemu gives Yuugi an… interesting gift. Fada knows best, right? Not really.