Hi guys... so, uhm... Happy New Year 2024? I know I've been gone forever. Last year was insane for me. I moved, got sick... I could tell y'all bout the craziness in my life but I'm not here to bore you with unnecessary details. As stated before, this story will likely end at chapter 50 if not before so we're reaching the end. So if you've stuck around this whole time, I admire your patience and thank you for it.
I hope you enjoy this chapter, hearties!
Atem's POV
The Leviathan vanishes back into the water as ordered, leaving the intruders in my temple pale as ghosts. Now my love is safe. I raise my hands to my face, witnessing my very veins beginning to glow the same shade as my eyes. Never has the Stream felt this way. Flowing power and memories of all its might course through my body and mind. Every ache and pain previously plaguing me is silenced and instead, tis as if lightening moves within, strengthening everything it touches.
Yes. I remember. This is the true power of the Shayee. What fools the kings before me were to reject the knowledge and gift that should've made them Gods to the rest of the world. Instead, they fell prey to measly pirates.
The bronze bowls hanging from the ceiling and their greenish fire catch my eye. I extend a hand towards the nearest one. Yes, I can feel their tingle from where I stand.
"Occiden," I order, closing my fist.
The flame immediately goes out, obeying me as the pillar had. I can't help a victorious smile.
"Arderen," I proclaim, opening my hand again.
The flame revives instantly. Unbridled laughter escapes me, filling the temple with a loud echo. I can feel it, all of it! Every piece of orichalcum in this room and beneath reverberates into my veins, reminding me of all the might of my ancestors and that they were in the physical palm of my hand, awaiting my command.
The familiar clicking of a pistol reaches my ears, and a moment later…
POW!
The bullet enters my shoulder, far into the skin. I recoil but there's no pain. I straighten up and glare at the trembling soldier still pointing the pistol at me. The fool's already wet himself, shaking like a leaf and panting like his last breath is soon. Justifiably. But my attention is on the wound itself. Painlessly, I feel the led moves in my flesh. Curious, I rip the buttons of my dirty shirt and remove it. Finally, the bullet exits the skin through its own entry wound and falls to the ground in a few metallic thuds. With no time wasted, the flesh closes, all without a hint of discomfort.
They all stare, frozen in place and trembling like ants fearing a boot. The shooter collapses to the ground, whimpering like a frightened puppy with disbelief draining the blood from his face. Pathetic. How long would it take me to grab his neck and snap it? A moment? Two at best?
How easy… and boring.
"Tch. You really are a fucking monster," snorts a gruff voice tattered with rage rather than fear.
Unsurprised, I grin at my former quartermaster. "Regretting your choices yet, Bakura?"
"I regret bloody nothing! There's only one thing I want. If you think, I'm going to die without getting it, then you've got another thing coming."
With that, he reaches for his cutlass, that blood thirst shining in his hell-deep black irises. A madman indeed. I can't help but shake my head. What a fool. But this bottomless confidence sparks a thought. I look to the rest of the parasites infesting my temple, and the idea blooms. What an appropriate opportunity to try out exactly how much this endless Stream has given me. I turn to the biggest parasite.
"You're quiet, admiral. Lost your tongue, have you?" I taunt.
I can see it all. Every tense muscle in his body, the pressure in his jaw, the trembling hand on his sabre… Despite it all, the man fights with all his will to keep a semblance of composure through his sweat-drenched collar. A commendable quality for someone in such a predicament. But still futile.
"Did you not say you'd purge us, " he says through clenched teeth, diplomatic as ever. "What's stopping you?"
"Thank your underserved good fortune, admiral. I have found a use for you pests after all. Reload your guns, unsheathes your blades. I'll wait."
My terrified audience exchanges looks of confusion and suspicion. To ease their mind some or rather convince them to take this foolish bet, I sit on my throne again.
"What the hell are you playing at?" growls out Bakura.
"If any of you manage to leave a permanent wound on me, I'll not only let you out of here." I turn to Pegasus. "I'll give your wife the Second Breath."
Even from here, I see the fool's eyes light up with hope, like a dog being promised a treat. He nods at his men whom with shaking hands hurriedly loading their firearms again. Though doubtful of the Breath's reviving effects, I am curious of the orichalcum's influence on an old corpse. If not, I'll have fresh ones to experiment with soon enough. There's one use for rats after all. And there's still so much to learn from the heritage impatiently coursing through my veins.
"Fine," declares Bakura, pointing his blade towards me. "Let's see if your head grows back after I cut it off, devil!"
Yugi's POV
"Atem is cursed? I don't understand, I—" Atem's chilling words and uncharacteristic actions in the cave emerge through the fog of my tormented mind. "Is that why…he's acting so strangely?"
The eyes of the man…or creature before me shine with deep sadness, closing briefly as if to wipe away imaginary tears. It seems impossible for this warmth-less creature to shed tears. Yet in this moment, I have no doubt that an ocean is on the verge of pouring from its orichalcum eyes.
"The fault lies with me and my sins, child. Tis the price I had to pay for my greed."
Greed? Nonsense. No matter how much the thought repeats in my head, greed and Atem are incompatible. Shayee and greed even less. Why is this happening? How can the secret that our people kept for millennia be such a thing?
Then I remember. Dartz just called himself the 'last king of Atlantis'. The monster before me reads the question in my eyes.
"I was cursed three-fold by the divine. One of my punishments is to watch my children be tempted by my sin. And should they succumb to it, bring the end of my people."
"What deserves such a punishment?" I let out, not wanting to know the answer.
The leviathan throws a hesitant look towards the exit before sighing. "Follow me."
Dartz returns to the water, dragging his serpentine body through the exit. Without hesitation, I dive in. He swims slowly, allowing me to follow. After a long swim through a narrow tunnel, we emerge into a familiar setting. Shock widens my eyes and pulls my lips apart.
At the bottom of a titanic underground completely submerged cave, lit up by lucien moss and big enough to fit a city…stands a humongous cone-shaped citadel of silver and marble. The greek-like architecture has been perfectly preserved. Statues of sphinxes and other myths decorate the streets. The silver reflects the light of the lucien moss, giving it a familiar green sheen. Homes of marble and opal, temples of bronze and gold, paved streets incrusted with gems and detailed carvings… and everywhere, the sheen of the orichalcum glistens.
"Atlantis," I let out.
"Once the Old World's pinnacle of knowledge and wealth," lets out Dartz, melancholy dripping from his words. "Now a forgotten ruin at the bottom of the sea buried beneath a tiny island."
"What happened?"
"I did."
The cursed king turns around and swims up towards the wall of the cave and for the first time, I notice the thousands of giant carvings in the wall. I follow him to one representing people bowing to a shining green stone falling from the sky.
"T'was not the first time stars fell from the sky. We never considered them to be omens of the Gods, ill or otherwise. Curiosity and science were seen as a good thing for the people of Atlantis as our philosophy stated that the world was to be searched for knowledge. And I was among the most ambitious."
He moves to another carving. I follow. A man with silver hair seems to be working in a forge, hitting a piece of star with a hammer. Then melting it to liquid over a raging forge fire.
"Day and night, I researched the strange green star. It melted only in the heat of volcanoes and only hardened again in the coldest winters. In just a few years I discovered it's many facets, be they medicinal or metallic. We began integrating it in our clothes, armors, jewellery, constructions… In less than a decade, we became the most advanced civilisation known to even modern history."
As he speaks, the leviathan guides me along the wall in front of other intricate carving painting a picture of his story. I don't dare interrupt him despite the flow of questions swarming my mind. This is so far from everything I remember of my people… And I dread finding out how the mighty Atlantians became the humble Shayee.
"Did you carve all of these yourself?" I still ask.
"I've had millennia to spend and reflect."
The Leviathan slithers further, showing more carvings of his human-self experimenting with the green stone.
"Though our lives improved drastically and my empire grew, it was never enough for me. The medicinal properties of the orichalcum fascinated me to no end. Our most devastating epidemics crumbled with but a drop of the elixir. Wounds would close at the slightest application of balm. I had to know how far this seemingly endless vitality could go."
The following carving picture prisoners in chains strapped on altar-like tables… and Dartz pouring glowing concoctions down their throats or inserting green needles into their flesh. My stomach tightens upon seeing the images of people screaming and writhing in pain as their veins glowed a familiar shade of turquoise.
"Did no one stop you?" I ask, throat dry despite the filtering water.
Again, the leviathan's brow furrowed in deep sadness. "My research benefited everyone. My subjects were criminals on death row. And who would speak against the king whom singlehandedly made Atlantis into the greatest civilisation known to the world? All of my people were fed, clothed, educated, protected, and free. My ambition couldn't have been more justified in my eyes. I also experimented on myself more than anyone else."
I fear to ask. This conversation is the untold truth of the Shayee. And I only now understand why it was vital that this secret never be emerged from the depth.
"What happened? How did you… how did we become the Shayee?"
"My research managed to create what I wanted. Soldiers so strong they could rip boulders apart with their bare hands, so fast they could outrun a gazelle and so resilient they could stay awake for days at a time. Their wounds would close mere moments after being made."
Dartz moves over in front of another large carving. This one depicts a hundred battalions of soldiers wearing armor and carrying blades of orichalcum while civilians cheer for them. All now sport familiar glowing green eyes and many shades of tricoloured hair.
"The Stream…" I whisper in disbelief.
"Folly and greed are contagious. My people soon shared all of my ideals, and willingly ingested the fruit of my research. We became Gods in the eyes of other civilisations. While they worshipped sticks and feared the thunder, we had attained nigh-perfection. Why shouldn't we rule the world?"
His face twisted in discomfort as he said that, guilt and shame once again dripping from his words. I swallow hard as if pebbles obstruct my throat. Thoughts of Atem's mad eyes and relishing in his newfound status as the king come to mind. All too eerily similar to the story of the cursed king. The following carvings of men in silver armor crossing the sea and reaching the main land confirms my fear.
"You invaded the world?"
He nods. "In but a few months, the neighbouring lands were ours. We were worshipped and feared. Anyone who stood against us paid for it in blood. We brought fire, chains and destruction to all that opposed us."
The depictions of death are many on that wall and so detailed, it stirs my own memories of fire and screams. Yet I can't look away. I quickly move along the wall until another carving catches my eye. This one shows Dartz in a palace. A little boy with white hair from whom a bright light emanates stands before him. The child then morphs into a giant being with a dozen eyes, and extending multiple pairs of golden wings. Anger on his face, he points an accusatory finger at a prostrated Dartz.
The leviathan speaks again: "I could never quite capture what I saw that day," says Dartz staring at the angelic being. "Whatever his true nature, he was not of this world and was sent to remind me that a man playing God is nothing but a plague to humanity."
"You said you were cursed three fold…" I ask against my better judgement. "What did you mean? What does it have to do with Atem?"
"This Messenger is the one who brought us our judgment."
ATLANTIS 10,000 YEARS AGO
As lightening splits the skies above, torrents of rain pour onto the streets beneath the palace that stands at the top of the citadel. The earth cracks beneath homes and temples. Screams of panic flood the streets as people attempt to flee to the boats on the raging sea.
For the first time in years, Dartz's heart pounds in fear as if suddenly waking from a nightmare to another hell, staring down at the apocalypse from his palace's balcony. He turns to the being of light, throwing himself at his feet.
"Messenger, I beg of you! Take my life and spare my people! I alone am to blame."
"You are to blame, King of Atlantis," acquiesces the Messenger, whose steady voice is betrayed by the tears running down his face. "But your greed has poisoned your people. Look at what they've become."
Sure enough, the Messenger's words ring true. In the streets, fathers and mothers collect jewellery and goods and trample over their own offspring to get to safety. Children themselves fight over mere trinkets with no regards for their lives while the murderous tides rose. Infants are left to cry out in the streets. Elderly stabbed their kin for a spot on the few surviving vessels. All have the madness of the orichalcum shining in their eyes.
"Should they live, this rot will destroy the rest of humanity," affirms the Messenger. "Hence they must be purged, for the future of mankind."
Despair wraps like a tight grip around the king's throat. He stares out the balcony, helpless, as water from below and fire from above devour the citadel and its screaming inhabitants. Guilty tears and silent screams leave him. Then through the cacophony of screams and thunder, a familiar voice reaches him.
"Quickly, this way!"
Below the balcony, his wife, the queen of Atlantis, holds a child that is not their daughter in her arms and leads a couple of injured people and their children towards the temple, the one place that stands higher than the palace.
His beloved Iona…How many times had she begged him to see reason? To be humble? To give up his mad dreams? The memories flood his mind. If only he'd listened, just once, to her kindness and wisdom… his people would not have become the scourge of humanity.
Once more, Dartz addresses their executioner.
"Messenger! What about them? What about the few who are not lost? The innocent who now beg for mercy from you?"
The Messenger's brow furrows. He says nothing.
"I beg of you," Dartz pleads, "unleash all the fury you've brought to those innocents upon me! I will trade an eternity of pain for mercy upon those who are uncorrupted."
The Messenger looks to the temple. The tides have now swallowed most of the citadel. The only screams left are drowned by that of the skies. The Messenger then turns to the king of nothing.
"If they live, so does the abomination that you've put in their blood. Your daughter will suffer the ambition of your greed, and bring about the same plague you have. Why should we risk humanity's future?"
"Please, Messenger. Give them a chance! The same chance I had but turned away. So that should they be better than me, they may live."
"You dare bargain with the Heavens?" shouts out the Messenger, his booming voice drawing blood from Dartz's ears. "Know your place, mortal!"
"Not for me, Messenger. Only for them. If they are to suffer my greed, give them a chance to save themselves."
The Messenger looks to the sky, contemplating something that would blind any mortal. Dartz holds his breath, ears ringing and heart pounding, sending prayers to the Heavens for but a moment of mercy. Finally, the Messenger looks down.
"So let it be said; the Shayee, the half-souls, will be born with another half destined for them. Your descendants will be given the chance to turn the tides of their fate. But should they forsake their other half, they will bring upon the annihilation of their people themselves."
Before even a breath of gratitude can escape Dartz, the Messenger points an accusatory finger at the king of ruins. Immediately, Dartz's skin turns death-grey, his bones twist and expand, screams of pain tearing his throat.
"The Heavens have spoken: You shall remain here, cursed and unloved, until you witness the children of your children vanish from this world or until the end of all things."
ATLANTIS PRESENT
"Hence the curse was passed down to each Shayee king until Atem. His father, grandfather, and great grandmother before him, all had to face the curse of my greed."
"What does that mean?" This beating around the bush crushes whatever composure I have left.
"For ten thousand years now, my descendants have faced and conquered madness and temptation." concludes Dartz. "So here I remain, in this cursed form until I witness the demise of my people by the hand of my own blood."
Tears cannot flow in the water, but I feel them escape my eyes. Strange thing to notice when under, but I've stopped breathing. Anger and heart wrench take turns twisting and tugging at my soul. Atem is cursed…. for something done lifetimes ago. Was the curse of his own guilt not enough?
I shake my head in disbelief and swim up to the cursed king's giant face. Somehow his titanic size no longer means anything. "What is happening to Atem? Tell me!"
"As soon as he stepped into the temple, the Stream in his blood remembered all the knowledge of the orichalcum and the glory of Atlantis. For millennia, the future kings of the Shayee would enter the temple upon coming of age, and confront the temptation of power and greed."
"How did they conquer the curse?"
For the first time, the undead eyes soften in ephemeral relief. "Their other halves would always accompany them in their trial. A gentle soul bound to theirs, to be the reason to their madness, as was Iona to me. So far, the kings have never failed to choose their other halves over the greed."
A shiver runs up my spine. I think of Atem. That explains his strange behaviour since entering the cave. Now my fear makes sense. How frightening to see greed on the face of a Shayee.
"You have to take me back to the temple! Please, I'm begging you. If I'm Atem's other half, then why did you take me away? His trial is now, he needs me!"
Again, the deep sadness in Dartz's deep eyes replies first. "I wish I could. But I am bound to the will of the king, and he has ordered me to take you away. I have no will of my own. Only that of the king. And even so, my curse prevents me from bringing harm to any creature of free will."
"Is that why…you didn't intervene twelve years ago either?" I ask, my voice breaking.
He nods. I clench my teeth in frustration. "If you won't help me, I'll go myself!"
I whip around and begin swimming as fast as I can towards the top of the citadel where the temple is. The cone shape of the ruins at least makes it a logical guess. But the giant hands of the cursed king blocks my path, encasing me in a gentle clutch. I truly fit in his palms.
"Please," I plead, fighting against the cage of skeletal fingers. "I'm the only one who can—"
The words die in my throat. Have I not already pleaded with Atem to come back to reason ever since entering the cave? Have I not already failed? So this was… the undoing of the Shayee, the true end of Atlantis. The punishment of the Mad King costs our lives? Sobs begin to shake me, and warm tears are swallowed by the cold water.
My voice trembles. my lungs hurt." It isn't fair… We did nothing wrong."
"I am sorry, child. You were never meant to know of this curse of mine."
"Why are you still here?" I cry out angrily through the sobs. "The Shayee are already gone!"
"The Heavens have spoken. Until all the Shayee have been taken from this world, here I shall remain."
Yet again, Atem's mad eyes comes to mind. So much more frightening than anything Pegasus or even Bakura has threatened me with. The helplessness burns my throat and insides. The screams of twelve years ago have now gone silent in my head. I never thought this silence would be agony. Is that all we were meant to be? Tragic creatures meant to wait for their doom?
"If no Shayee was ever meant to know this, why did you tell me all of this? Why couldn't you let me be ignorant, like all those before me?"
"I'm not sure. You asked and I answered. I have never been questioned before. This is the longest conversation I've had in ten thousand years. As if the kings knew not to ask anything of me."
Through the fog of despair and sadness of my mind brusquely emerges a semblance of logic. "You said… that all the kings were cursed. But you had a daughter, didn't you? What about the queens?"
Dartz tilts his head in confusion. "I'm not sure what you mean. All of my descendants were kings."
I feel my brow furrowing as realisation slips into my thoughts. We've spoken so much, I've almost forgotten that he's speaking to me in the mother tongue of Atlantis. Rexem, the word for 'king'… is closer to the word 'regent', carrying no notion of gender. And the Shayee are half-souls, only complete with their other half… I remember Atem spilling both of our bloods in the pool to open the way to the temple. Would that not mean that I am…
"… half-king as well?" I mutter.
I've had more absurd thoughts that had paid off. And I have neither the time nor the clarity of mind to question my ideas. Only one way to find out. I look the Leviathan dead in the eye.
"Unhand me," I order.
As if struck by lightening, the cage of skeleton fingers around me release me. Dartz holds them up to his shock-struck face. It couldn't be more evident that he's never seen it before.
"The will of the king…" he lets out, mesmerised.
My chest swells with hope. It seems even the curse of the divine is not immune to loopholes. Or perhaps it was a riddle to be solved. I find myself thanking the Millennium crew for teaching me the way of piracy and duels. It has given me my only chance to help my kindred soul.
"You've already fulfilled Atem's order by taking me away. He said nothing about keeping me here."
Once again, Dartz seems hit by realization. "I never thought the divine would allow such… tricks to counter the curse. Still, I cannot help you, Yugi. I am not allowed to harm humans. No matter who they are or their intentions."
"I know."
Frankly, at the moment, I'm far more worried about Atem's intention than I am of Pegasus's. I'm sure my kin can handle his own with the Stream's limitless power at his disposal. But there is no guarantee that he won't get careless. Neither the admiral nor Bakura are to be underestimated. Even then, I dread what will become of Atem should he get more blood on his hands. It makes me nauseous. To top it all off, there are more of the Admiral's forces on the beach to worry about. And if I can't do this alone…
I suppose I'm about to find out how much of this kingly will I possess…
"Can you get to the sea from here?" I ask with haste.
Seto's POV
The baron's eyes shift to the main deck. The Blue-Eyes's crew goes about their duties, keeping a confused eye on the rest of the 'guests', namely Kisara and Alister's platoon of twenty navy-men warily eying the dozen men of the Millennium pirates who'd gathered to the other side of the deck. Without a doubt the strangest bunch Seto had ever assembled. Despite the presence of those justified to go after his head, his eyes turn back to the sea, contemplating a much more alarming matter.
There's no question that the Blue-Eyes, the finest and fastest escort ship in the Caribbean, was the correct choice for their objective. As long an adequate wind blows, the many intricate sails of the ship can catch it and get them from Liverand to Shayee Island in less than two days rather than three. Hence the problem.
Seto's nails dig into his palms as he stares at the barely rippling sea, created by what can only be described as a pathetic sigh in the air. Barely enough for the mighty battleship to move. Despite having been at sea since before dawn the day before, they weren't even halfway there.
Curses!
"The weather don't look too cooperative."
Not having heard the Millennium's first mate come up behind him only serves to remind Seto how distracted he truly is. It irks him.
"I have eyes," he spat out through clenched teeth. "Anymore obvious fact you'd like to share?"
The wolf man ignores the jab and turns his gaze towards the top of the mainmast. "OI! JADEN! HOW'S IT LOOKIN' UP THERE?"
A boy a barely older than Mokuba and missing a hand jumps down from the crow's nest onto the lower yard of the high sails. "NOT GOOD, MR WHEELER! NOT A CLOUD IN SIGHT!"
In other words, no prospect of the wind picking up any time soon.
"Shit," curses Joey. "We ain't even halfway there…"
Seto's hands curled into fists and his jaw clenched tight enough to crack teeth. Had God decided to torment him to no end? He catches the wolf man watching him from the corner of his eyes, again, only to irk him.
"What?" he snaps.
"I feel like me eyes are trickin' me. All this time, we were convinced ya were this devil that had to be put down for the sake o' the world. But ya really are just a prick in a fancy coat, ain't ya?"
"Is there a point to you stepping on my last nerve, pirate?"
"I'm just sayin' tis strange, is all. Were ya serious about lettin' us have yar head?"
"I've been ready to pay this price my entire life and I don't fear death nor pain. I require no mercy from my victims."
"Yet, ya're as pitiful as Yugi."
For once, Seto's mind can't find appropriate words to respond for a moment. Why is this victim of his company showing sympathy? Just when he thinks he'd reached the bottom, he just keeps on digging. Not that there's much of his pride left at this point.
The silence doesn't last as footsteps earn both of their attention. Kisara, Alister and Mokuba make their way to them.
"Don't say it," Seto warns the commodore.
"All we can do at this stage is pray for more wind," she says, an anxious but cool-headed air about her.
"Damn it all!" Seto curses, slamming his fist against the wooden edge of the ship.
Who knows where Yugi is at the moment? She's of no help to Pegasus with her fractured memory. And this affair still eludes him to no end. The admiral has never shown any interest in treasure hunting or any kind of greed towards gold or silver. Being attracted by the monetary value of the orichalcum makes no sense. And here they are, like fish stuck in a barrel, waiting for wind.
"I still don't get why Pegasus is doing this," says Mokuba, as if reading his brother's train of thought. "I understand that the orichalcum is precious enough to make anyone look up. But I didn't think someone like him would have an interest in precious metals. He's plenty wealthy on his own, isn't he Seto?"
The elder Kaiba snorts. "We're well placed to know that greed knows no class, little brother."
"But even if he suddenly developed a taste for treasure, it doesn't explain why he'd suddenly forsake all proper procedures of the Navy," adds Alister, holding his chin. "Procedures, he himself put in place, mind you. The man is patient and organized, a true stickler for the rules. This is too unpredictable for him."
Mokuba then turns to the commodore. "He's your uncle, isn't he Lady Kisara? You know him best. Did he tell you anything?"
Even Seto straightens up to hear Kisara's answer. She looks down, profound blue eyes lost in thought and brow, furrowed. There's no mistaking it. She knows something they don't. Having been raised by her uncle, of course she would. The grim look on her face instantly betrays an ominous omen. An anxious shiver travelled up Seto's spine.
"The only thing that would make my uncle act irrationally is his wife."
"I thought Lady Cecelia was deceased…" comments Alister.
"She has been for well over a decade. But ever since coming to the Caribbean, my uncle has always spoken of her as if she would return soon. He always kept her sarcophagus close, constantly adding silver to it and speaking to her late in the night. I thought it was his own way of grieving."
"Did you say silver?" asks Mokuba, before exchanging a wary look with Seto.
"I had a strange feeling so I had Lieutenant Steps check before we left : he's taken the sarcophagus with him. I can't think of any reason why."
The ominous silence settles within their group in front of the senseless revelation. What does Pegasus's dead wife and orichalcum have to do with one another?
"What if it ain't got nothin' to do with the orichalcum?"
All eyes turn to the wolf man. Eerie realization shines in his eyes and deep concern twists his traits.
"What if it got everythin' to do with Yugi? Lil' Moki, remember when ya almost drowned?"
"You almost drowned?" Seto couldn't help but let out the bewildered question.
Mokuba nods. "But I was passed out… I don't remember the details. Why do you ask?"
"Ya weren't breathin' no more, and even I couldn't hear yar heartbeat. Thought for sure ya'd kicked it. But then Yugi brought ya back. Swore high and low that ya were never dead and she just got the water out o' ya. But to us, sure as hell looked like she'd brought ya back to life with that… Shayee kiss o' hers."
The hammering heat of the tropical sun couldn't silence the ice-like shiver spreading in the air around their small group. Never mind learning that Mokuba had touched the other side, this revelation gave a grim insight to the admiral's intention.
"He's always had a vested interest in ancient folklore," added Kisara, jaw tight. "I didn't think it more than an odd hobby."
"That's ridiculous…" lets out Alister, unconvinced. "The Shayee are one thing. But no sane mind would believe someone can bring the dead back."
"It don't gotta make sense," says Joey. "Trust me. Everyone on the Millennium knows a thing or two 'bout wanting the impossible."
"And somehow, Pegasus believes the orichalcum plays a part in it…." adds Seto, insides shifting uncomfortably.
Mokuba's face suddenly drains of color when he asks. "Then what's gonna happen to Yugi when Pegasus figures out she can't revive Lady Cecelia?"
A nauseous sensation comes up Seto's throat. Whatever it is, they'll never get there in time. Not with this weather.
"MR WHEELER! FORWARD, ON THE STARBOARD BEAM!" suddenly shouts Jaden from the top of the mainmast, unable to hide the panic in his voice. "SOMETHIN' BIG'S COMIN'!"
A general crowd movement shakes the ship, as all eyes peek out the right of the ship in order to spot whatever's made the handless boy's voice tremble like so. But there's nothing in sight. Only the frustratingly gentle waves. But given Jaden's panic, this couldn't be an awful jest. Simultaneously, Seto and Kisara reach for their spyglasses and peek out again.
Still nothing. But then the baron's keen eye catches it. The movement of the water. The gentle waves are splitting too evenly to be natural. As the dorsal fin of a shark cutting through the surface does, announcing the arrival of the predator. But the scale of the movement implies the presence of something much bigger.
"What in the hells…" Seto can't help but whisper.
"JADEN!" calls out Joey. "WHAT'RE YA SEEIN'?"
"UNDER THE WATER! INCOMING!"
The rising chatter of unease betrays that the spyglass has become obsolete. The massive shadow moving under the surface soon —too soon— approaches fast and sure, in quick serpentine movement. It dashes past the Blue-Eyes… then makes a sharp turn, suddenly slowing down as it circles the battleship. The chatter becomes cries of panic and uncertainty, as the men move away from the edges of the ship.
"Stay calm," orders Kisara. "Everyone, get your firearms and canons ready!"
Pirate and soldier alike draw their pistols and muskets. The canons are hastily charged, but Seto knows they'll be of no help against the titanic shadow tightly circling the vessel. Seto pulls Mokuba near him, cursing to have forgotten to ask the commodore for his equipment back.
While in the middle of the clumsy shuffle, it finally breaks through the surface, rising to the level of the sails. When the thick veil of seawater finally falls, giant bright blue eyes stare back at them. Seto holds his breath. Unlike most, he's always known of the existence of Shayee and wolf-men… but this vision of horror seems to have come to life from the Homer's Odyssey.
A breathless silence steels every soul on the ship in place, while the cold eyes of the serpent slowly takes in the vessel with a gaze Seto can swear had thought behind it.
POW!
A stray shot hits the creature. Three more follow.
POW! POW! POW!
"HOLD YOUR FIRE!" Orders Kisara too late.
"DON'T SHOOT, HEARTIES!" shouts Joey, simultaneously.
A hundred more shot follow until only the clicking of empty triggers can be heard. A cloud of smoke briefly blinds them to the creature.
The silence that follows the empty guns is palpable. No one dares reach for their powder bags or take a breath as the smoke falls… and the monster hasn't so much as flinched, though riddled with slowly closing bullet holes.
Slowly, the monster sticks his head further into the ship, his eyes focused on the baron. Once a few feet away, its flews retract, showing rows of dagger like teeth, its jaw slowly parting and a growl-like purr escaping it. From the corner of his eye, Seto sees Joey also morphing into his second skin, ready to strike.
Then the creature turns it's mouth towards the ground and opens wide. A flash of beige and magenta falls out on the deck in a a loud thud.
"Ow!" lets out an all too familiar voice.
Giant monsters? Crazy brainwashing magical powers? Heroes going rogue? Where have I heard that before?
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