A/N: Hurrrrr's a new chapter! I was planning to post this last night but I, er, accidentally fell asleep. Rainstorms do that to me sometimes D:

Disclaimer: The DN characters and historical figures are not mine.

Chapter 7: The Doomed and the Damned

Matt felt the blood rush from his face. Obviously the time-meddling boy of a pharaoh knew something that they didn't.

"What are you implying?" Mello said slowly.

Tut's tone softened. "Only the worst," he uttered.

Matt felt dangerously close to screaming – not unlike the other day when Mello had announced his intention to provoke Kira one last time, not unlike when Matt had wordlessly agreed to Mello's scheme, unconvinced by his friend's half-assed promises that Matt's chances of survival were very, very high. But Matt had kept his cowardly rage to himself, because after all, what could be simpler than a drive-by shooting?

The answer was glaringly obvious in the way the Egyptian ruler was now looking at him, sad and pitying. Him. Not Mello, not Near.

Matt.

Matt, the dreamer. Matt, the ever-consistent partner.

Matt, the destined martyr.

The flustered redhead then committed the fatal mistake of peeking at Near, whose calculating eyes were already trained suspiciously on his lesser rivals. It was evident that the younger prodigy was irritated about being purposely left out of the loop. Matt felt a stab of annoyance. It was entirely Mello's fault –his insatiable ambition to belittle and best the SPK leader, their suicide mission, and above all, Matt's involvement.

Matt made a split second decision. He was not going to waste this once-in-a-lifetime opportunity.

"Deal!"

Tut's face broke out into a relieved grin. "I knew I could count on you," he murmured.

Mello swung around to glare at his underling. "Matt, are you out of your mind? Didn't you hear a word this guy said? He's already sacrificed God-knows-how-many lives to save his own hide," the furious blond spat out. "We are no one's pawns, not even a king's!"

"There is no greater honor than to lay your life down for a pharaoh," Tut said pointedly. "My priests were willing participants."

"That's because they're a bunch of delusional whack-jobs!"

"But Mello, just think about it. Immortality? It's an offer we can't refuse," Matt insisted.

Near chose that moment to pipe up. "If we fail to succeed," the white-haired genius said warily, addressing Tut, "what will happen to us?"

"Your bodies will be safely returned to the future."

Near didn't miss a beat. "And our souls?" he pressed.

"They'll be eaten up by that crocodile!" Mello squawked, gesturing violently at the depictions of the heart-weighing judgment painted above their heads.

Tut hesitated. "...That's right."

"In that case, I have nothing to be afraid of," Near mused. "Eternal life would be quite beneficial, so I'm with Matt. Will Mello be joining us?"

Underlying Near's innocent question was his trademark condescending lilt; neither of the older Wammy alumni could fail to detect the apparent challenge being directed at Mello. Matt was certain that Mello would rise and take the bait as usual, and was already silently congratulating Near for his simple but effective maneuver.

"I just can't do it."

The significance of Mello's diction went unheeded. The ex-Mafioso bowed his head, avoiding his company's surprised and disheartened gazes.

"Very well, then," Tut sighed. "I shall ask my grandfather to send you back to your time, as you clearly desire."

"I am afraid that will be impossible."

Matt's heart stuttered at the arrival of the new voice. Four heads twisted toward the entrance of the palace chamber, where an old man decked in a magnificent set of armored robes had suddenly materialized. His plated chest was puffed out importantly, and though he had to be at least seventy years old, the newcomer looked astonishingly fit for battle.

Near finally came to his senses and snatched the cloak off the ground, shielding his nakedness from the new and prying eyes.

Mello was speechless.

He must be the Grand Vizier, Matt thought. Ay, Tut's grandfather. And, as a handful of Egyptologists, historians and forensic scientists speculated...

...the prime suspect behind Tut's questionably early death and alleged murder.

Ay was not alone. "There you are, Ankhe!" Tut bounded off the throne, running awkwardly but eagerly to embrace his half-sister and wife, who had appeared in the doorway alongside the second-highest ranking man in all of Egypt.

"Ankhe" was a beautiful woman. She shared her half-brother's dark, hooded eyes and bronzed skin, and her supple limbs were embellished with enough jewelry to buy a hundred vintage cars. Awed, Matt switched his attention to the beaded diadem draped around the young queen's skull, and his brows rose another fraction of an inch. A tiny cobra protruded from the mass of lapis lazuli gems covering her head, one that matched the one on the pharaoh's own crown.

"My king," she greeted her husband. Her gold-drenched arms were thrust outward to present to him a thick volume bound in brown leather. Tut smiled, kissing her hands before taking the book.

"As I was saying," the vizier – Ay – said loudly when he saw that Mello had opened his mouth again to protest, "there must always be multiples of three people to perform the ritual, one for each of the three parts of the soul – Ba, Ka and the Akh. This is the only way our spirits can be securely transferred into the afterlife without being split up into each of these three separate parts. Do you understand?"

Mello's face had gone completely white. "Then get another one of your priests to do it." His voice was barely above a whisper now.

That was when Matt realized that Mello wasn't fighting against being used.

Mello was scared of his inevitable damnation.

A/N: Trivia (I like trivia!) - The Egyptian goddess Ma'at also goes by the names Maat, Māt, and Mayet. Woohoo, "Matt" galore!

Special thanks to the latest reviewers: Kira the Wolf, Sailormercury117 (you have my best wishes!), akatsukifan, Sun Xiao, Writer Axis, TheCatchingLightAlchemist ~

Reviews would be... Magically Delicious! (;