Sorry for the wait! Life got a little crazy.

Chapter CXII: Stakes

"Stand before me, hatchling," the Uria snarled. "I have no reason for you to slither like a common snake."

Yami almost flinched as he got slowly to his paws. He felt even shakier as they considered each other. The God Dragon stared back at him emotionlessly, golden eyes like pools of melted metal. His scales were the same shade as Yami's own he realized, stunned, but he held himself as Atem did—with raw strength and power unmatched. He looked at Yami as if he were some small, insolent creature sent before him for judgment.

"The place you see before you—this sea of red," Amun growled, voice laced with cold indifference, "is the land of the dead. It is the Red Meadow. A soul comes here to see themselves judged—given Paradise as their final resting place, or Purgatory to rot away as their names are forgotten and their identities slowly stripped from their memories until they become nothing and eventually are reborn to either better themselves or suffer another life of torment."

He shivered and glanced around slowly. "It's, um…lovely."

"Cease your flattery," Amun spat, and Yami flinched as his eyes burned into his. It was as if he were truly staring into the sun, doubled and amplified to the point it made his entire body burn and ache. "You came to me, Yami, son of the God Dragon of the East, son of the Dragon of Destruction. What is it you seek from me?"

He blinked and stared, eyes widening as the words slowly processed. He'd…found his way to him? He had come to him, not the other way around? Amun had not summoned him there? The potion Ryou had brewed, the one he'd marked him with—it had brought him here?

"The human's magic is unusually potent, but it was you who brought yourself here," the Uria answered in a cold, despondent tone. He raised his head and stood before him with his lips peeled back and each tooth bared. It took Yami a moment to realize the expression was one of a smile, even as furious as it was. "You bring yourself before me without even knowing your own desire or strength to do so. How strange. The last time a dragon sought me, they knew exactly what they wished to learn."

"Who…?"

Amun blinked once, long and slow, and the rumbling purr he released was like water crashing down the side of a cliff. His chuckle made the air quake, as if his voice were the very thunder rumbling about the heavens during a storm. "I've had but two visitors in my entire existence here as the God of the Dead. I rule here as the very being that haunts every paw step and sinks their teeth into their souls as they die. Everyone knows me as their time comes, but never before. And yet you stand before me, unsure and shaky and wishing with everything in you for a solution you do not know how to speak for fear of selfishness."

"I…I—I…" Yami opened and closed his mouth, ashamed of himself. He ducked his head and looked at him sideways for a split second. Amun's mouth split into another hideous smirk and his laughter made Yami's bones quake.

"Yes, quiver before me," he sneered, lashing his tail slowly. He narrowed his brilliant eyes and stared at him even more pointedly, as if he meant to peer through his soul. Yami wondered for a moment what he saw there—if anything. He wondered if he had one, because sometimes he truly doubted it, and his heart hurt with the thought but he couldn't help it. Was he so far removed and unnatural, or did he still have that one last saving grace?

"Atem—m-my father," Yami found himself blurting abruptly, "w-when he dies…where will he go?"

Amun blinked at him as if he didn't understand what he'd just asked. He raised his head, staring for so long Yami almost thought he wouldn't answer. And then the Uria chuckled.

"Survival is not a crime."

Yami could have trembled with relief. He watched him a moment. Somehow Amun's shape seemed sharper than the world beyond him, and Yami had the sudden thought the blackness was closing in, as if it were crawling forward slowly to swallow everything. He wondered how much time he had here, and how many answers Amun might give. He wondered if the God Dragon might lie, if the truth was still hidden in the dark.

"What can you tell me?"

"Anything and everything," Amun answered, voice dripping with disdain, "but it is your task to determine lies from truth and dark from light. I will not forfeit what I know for such little return, not when your time has yet to come and I cannot judge you. If you want the truest of answers, you'll provide me a god in return. A god for all the spoils of knowledge."

Yami blinked slowly. "A god?" he whispered. "You'd have the soul of one of them prematurely just to give me answers?"

"You think I care if their time is earlier or later than predicted?" he scoffed, though he paused. "The only time I've cared is when I was moments from your father and he leaped from my jaws."

Yami opened his mouth to answer, but a flash of movement in the corner of his eye made his head turn. He bristled, uncertain, and then looked immediately at Amun.

"Do not ever speak the names of those dead," he snarled, lashing his tail. "You give them an identity and they shall swallow you and trap you here forever. They are specters and this one is nothing more than phantom to mark the many times he nearly came to me."

Yami glanced at it sideways. The dragonet was a brilliant shining red like fresh blood, with wide golden eyes and two mouths of sharp teeth. A wound on its side rotted, eating at the flesh until it began to all but recede before his eyes. Yami stared for so long it felt as if his eyes were burning as he turned back to the deity.

"Why?" he managed, voice almost strangled.

"You asked about him. The names of the dead bring them forth," he growled. He gestured with a flick of his tail. "And that one comes when you speak your father's name once. Then another will come, and another and so forth until the number of times he's escaped me is exceeded."

Yami blinked. "How many times is that?"

Amun was silent for a long time, then bore his teeth in a hideous grin. "Hundreds." He snarled softly, shaking his head and purring after a long minute. "He's escaped me hundreds of times, because of that brilliant little ability of his."

He felt a small wave of dread creep through him. "What about Yugi?"

Amun hummed. "Only twice," he said slowly, and Yami ignored the Gandora that appeared to his left. "If you keep speaking names, you can watch all the iterations in which they escaped."

"I'd rather not."

"Then bite your damn tongue," the Uria spat, eyes burning like flames. He snarled louder and loomed over him again. Yami wondered briefly if he might strike out at him, but the moment passed. "I grow tired of these asinine questions. You have one you wish to ask above all else. Grow up and ask it."

Yami flinched and studied him. "You won't hurt me," he said slowly, "because you can't kill me here. You can't lay a claw on me by your own admission. You can only know those who are dying and you must snatch them and judge them upon entering your domain."

Amun snarled. "How clever you are," he sneered. "Yes. I am unable to lay my teeth or claws upon you. I am not to wound you in any manner, because my domain is only upon those already passed. You shall see the next sunrise until you are no longer permitted."

Yami looked away. He stared at the little red dragonet as it faded to nothing and the grass swayed about, glittering like rubies. He shivered, then turned back. "I need to know how to kill Dimitri."

Amun returned his stare with an unblinking, cold expression. "You are the one gifted with death," he said quietly, shifting his weight as he finally took a seat before him. His eyes closed halfway. "Sartorius knew your path, and yet could not prevent it. You stumble along blindly in an effort for answers and yet you fear your own clumsiness with good reason. Do you even know the shadows you cast, how far reaching and terrible and black? Your father's ability supersedes yours, and yet they work in tangent. Perhaps you should look to his for aid in yours."

Yami shook his head. "No," he snapped. "Atem doesn't deserve that. I won't put him through it."

"You already have," Amun snarled, eyes burning and tail lashing. "His path is set where his abilities are concerned. You set it into motion, as you feared you would. But what did you expect your meddling to do? Repercussions abound. Every choice made is yet another detour from the path he should have taken. You have no idea the monster you've potentially unleashed, do you?"

He flinched. "Atem won't fall like that," he spat. "I won't let him."

"You fear too much. Why do you never call to it's opposite? It's just as powerful," he growled. "The balance comes from one side being the equal of another. Courage and despair, fear and bravery, determination and defeat."

"I don't need bravery—"

"No? Well then what do you believe you need? Allies?" Amun commented coldly. His eyes glimmered and he smiled once more. "I can give you a fifth."

"A fifth?" Yami echoed, staring. "A…fifth?"

"It will cost you one you hold dear."

He bristled. "No. Atem and Yugi's lives aren't for negotiation," he snarled. "There is another way. I don't care what the visions say. There's another way."

"Is there? I do not know it," Amun dismissed. "You must sacrifice someone should you wish to defeat him. There is only so much that the balance can take without being repaid. A soul driven divine requires a lesser in offering, a pound of flesh must be scored against the death of another, a soul taken must be gifted. Hate must weigh against love, courage against despair. Where do you get off thinking yourself worthy of disobeying this necessity?"

"I'm not," he whispered, "but you said choices made change everything. So what of mine? What choices do I have?"

"Let your parents die and face death in sacrifice when you must fight your father," Amun said, bored. He rolled his neck and turned away, eyes glittering. "Flee, save yourself. Or offer your life for theirs. It doesn't matter. A soul is payment. Life is granted by death all the time. Is it not the way of the mother? An egg is laid, a hatchling is born, and the mother passes. They lay their lives when a threat comes to gobble their offspring. And, yet, sometimes the offspring is the reason their world fades to nothingness. The parasitic birds of the western and eastern regions place their eggs within another's nest and the new parents kill themselves to feed the monster that hatches. The world does not stop when they die. It will not stop should you or your fathers or anyone else."

Yami felt sick. Were their lives so inconsequential?

"They matter as long as they last. They cease importance when they pass." Amun chuckled. "Did you think you matter longer than the blink it takes for your lives to cease?"

"I thought…" He blinked. What had he thought?

"Names carry in memories and legends, but they no longer hold sway upon those they used to. Every legend passes to nothing, details lost and changed and rearranged or forgotten altogether."

"But…isn't a life still worth fighting for?"

"I suppose it depends on how much you fear death."

Yami stared at him for a long moment, then tossed his head. "No," he spat, "every life is worth something. It doesn't matter to you, because you just judge them and see them to their eternal rest or punishment. Your opinion holds no sway on the living."

Amun hummed. "You're right. I am dead and have been for a long time yet. The instinct to survive and live means nothing to me but for watching over those who escape my claws."

He shivered and stepped forward. "But if this world is worth something, why does it cost lives? Why is every day a battle? Why is everything so exhausting and painful? What comes of that struggle? If it all ceases, what's the point in trying to prevent any of it? Why shouldn't I let Dimitri raze the world if I can survive at the end of it?"

Amun chuckled. "Those are your own decisions to make. I have no guidance to grant you."

Yami blinked and stared at him. "You saved Alexander and offered yourself to end the war. Would you do it again now?"

The God Dragon tilted his head. "It does not matter what I would do. It does not matter then what I did before. It matters now your choices, not mine. The world has continued on without me as it will everyone else."

"And if Dimitri destroys it? Don't you care?"

"Why should I?" Amun answered. "He will die and I will devour him one day, be it soon or much later. He may die in battle with you, your fathers, the dragon you loved so much you shared your heart, Jaden, Yusei, Leviathan. It does not matter to me. He could die of old age. One way or another he will come to me. And I will have his soul."

"Do you understand the magnitude of this? If Dimitri—"

"I understand more than you do what is at stake, what lives may be lost or gained. It does not matter to me, however, as I have said once already. You forget yourself. You may have the ability of death, but you are blind as to its uses."

Yami blinked and for the first time he noticed it. His eyes flickered about the meadow, studying the flowers and wondering. But he wasn't wrong. He turned back.

"You said all those names…and they didn't appear."

Amun didn't blink. His lips stretched into the most hideous smile Yami had ever seen. "Oh, I think you might be clever enough yet," he chuckled. "But what shall you do, Yami, when the world bows beneath Dimitri's paws? You may be blind now to your greatest strengths, but what then, when the time comes?"

Yami felt as if the world were spinning. His throat felt tight and his lungs squeezed violently in his chest. He exhaled slowly, raggedly. The deity snorted and stared, considering him with cold disinterest. The indifference made his blood frigid.

"You said… You… Dimitri…"

Amun tilted his head. "Dimitri is too far removed from me to come here," he said slowly. He snickered. "But what need is there for the gift of death when he can change shapes and raise himself from the ashes of his own demise like a phoenix?"

Something about the word phoenix made his stomach churn. He couldn't quite grasp why the word set off alarms in his head, but all the same he tried.

"But a phoenix is nothing more than a pest to a creature molded and Blessed by death itself."

Yami blinked and stared, unsure of himself as he considered. Was that right? A creature molded and Blessed by death itself? He blinked and tilted his head. Did he mean…him? Or did he mean Atem? Atem was called the Red Death, Corpse Hanger, Blood-Scaled Monster, and even just Death. So, who did he mean?

He blinked and lifted his head. "Amun… You said Dimitri is too far removed from you," he whispered, "but I'm…not?"

Amun snorted. "You may fear death, but you faced it once to save your father's friend. You'd never touched that power until then. I sent him on his way to the constellation, and you brought him back. Even the phantom you encountered could not lure him back."

Yami shivered. He remembered the little red hatchling, darting away to lead him to Timaeus, and Timaeus begging it and him to just let him be. He couldn't shake the icy feeling in his bones.

"I'm not here."

Amun snickered. "No. You are not. There is no phantom of you, although your father did almost eat you upon your hatching. And Bakura would have swallowed you alive had he gotten the chance. And Jaden would have hung your corpse upon tree branches for the sake of warding away an omen so long in coming it could never be diverted." He paused. "Your friend saw you because you were his fondest memory and your departure that night was the most traumatic moment despite finding that scene you laid out the next morning. Dimitri summoned it to mind."

Yami nodded. "I remember," he whispered. But still his mind raced. "I dragged Timaeus back from Paradise when I shared my heart. And I… I did kill Bakura when he had more than one heart left…didn't I?"

The Hunter Dragon took shape soon after, standing tall and staring. He snarled and spat, then lunged, but Amun merely flicked his tail and the phantom disappeared as if he'd never existed.

"That wasn't a phantom," Amun growled. "You summoned him here. A phantom does not attack. You called his soul to your side and he would wish you dead."

Yami flicked his tail and wondered for a moment but shrugged it aside. "Is my death the only way to stop him? Is there truly no other option?"

"Your father may pay your debt instead, if you so desire." Amun tilted his head. "I'm sure he would not blame you should he be struck down in your place. After all, are parents not meant to die before their offspring?"

Yami bristled. "No," he snapped. "I will not let Atem die for me."

"Then I suppose you should swallow your fear," he scoffed. A long minute passed and he looked away slowly, narrowing his eyes. His voice was a deep, rumbling laugh when he continued. "Although, perhaps fear should chain you both, and you'll both rot to death rather than end each other."

"Dimitri isn't afraid," he whispered. "He's gotten more violent and reckless."

"Recklessness and violence often coincide with fear," Amun answered softly. He tilted his head after a moment, eyes glazed over for a single second. Yami didn't know what he read there, but it was there only a moment before they sharpened and focused on him once more. They burned his flesh and Yami almost snarled with surprise at the ferocity in his expression. "He is afraid. You know what he fears."

"What I fear." He shivered. "But… How am I supposed to even kill him? He's so powerful. He can change shapes. He…"

"He's as mortal as the rest of you." Amun gave him a bored, indifferent look once more. "He shall die as all the rest. None of you shall surpass me forever."

"What I see in the water… Amun, is that all there is?" he asked again, desperate as despair surged through him. "Is death all that awaits me, no matter what decision I make? If I do not sacrifice my fathers…"

"You have seen it in many iterations. To see so many means it is almost certain."

"…Only almost?" Yami bristled. "So—is there hope?"

"There is always hope for the living. You forget yourself. Hope is a necessity to live, to thrive." Amun considered him coldly once more. "It is the most important force for most, beyond the scope of love or hate even. But hope is a slippery little creature. It may be in your claws one moment, then slip away the next. But hope is not the secret to your survival—should you find a way to survive."

Should I find a way… Yami blinked. "Hope isn't my secret? Then what is?"

"Death." Amun flicked his tail. "Death and the moonlight cast upon dreams and memories, the shadows that line your path and your fathers', the darkness that once claimed your mate. Your gifts run deep in the realm of memories and darkness, of moonlight and stars."

Yami tilted his head. "Moonlight and dreams?" he muttered. "What of moonlight and dreams? I don't understand."

"I am not here to provide you the answers to every problem you possess." Amun chuckled, voice dropping. "But you have forgotten what aid you have—one of absolute stillness, the embodiment of potential. You've forgotten it in your time alone, and you should look to remember it."

He shivered and stepped forward, wings tucking into his sides firmly. "I have so much I would ask of you, but you're deflecting so much and I… I don't understand."

"Your path is your own. You must learn and choose for yourself. That is the gift bestowed to all. That is what you must exercise," he growled.

Yami stared at him, uncertain, and managed to breathe, "If Dimitri and I fear the same thing, how is it he's so much stronger than me? How is it he barely blinks as he rushes into a fight? How is it the possibility of facing Atem"—He ignored the phantom which appeared, older and with burning golden eyes that seared through his flesh—"does not stop him any longer?"

"Fear cannot contain a creature that thinks himself almost immune to the inevitable." Amun was silent for a long moment. "He will die one day, whether you finish him off or not. You both forget you cannot outrun me forever. A phoenix can only survive as long as he has ashes to rise from. But death can stalk memories and dreams and moonlight, until it too fades from focus."

"Why won't anyone just tell me what to do?" he burst out pathetically, heart clenching in his chest. "I don't understand. Why can no one give me guidance? Why can no one just…say what I should do?"

Amun snorted. "You die and save Atem, or you sacrifice him to save yourself. It does not matter. One way or another, I shall have your blood on my tongue." He stood and loomed over him, baring his teeth into that same disgusting smile. "The Divine shall fall, and I will taste the blood of a deity, Yami."

His heart squeezed impossibly tighter. "Am I not owed my life?"

"No life is guaranteed. No life is owed." Amun snorted. "The only beast owed his life is Atem, and that is because his abilities make it so. Were it not for them, he would have succumbed to me long before."

Yami felt fear surge through his bones. His body felt distant and his senses were numb with a brief but overwhelming horror.

Amun eyed him in delight.

"You finally understand."