I hope that I may be forgiven for the lateness of this piece. Suffice it to say that life has been hectic, not to mention exhausting. I've been having very serious problems writing anything substantial ever since the semester started, and during the past couple of months, my family has been in the process of moving. One would think, after heading out on my own, I wouldn't have to help them move again. One would be wrong.

I'm making progress on a new project that should be ready to post by next year, but again, it's proven difficult. My head's not quite in the right place yet, I think. It's almost there, and I'm getting to the point that I can muscle past it, but I've had writer's block for a while now.

This chapter is leading up to the plot point I mentioned last time; the plot point in question is the entire reason I started this project, and so all that you've written so far is merely setup for the fun part. I could have started here, certainly, but that would have been a disservice. I don't believe in jumping right into a story that defies canon unless I spend time setting up why, and how.

That said, let's see what happens next.


"Yami?" Mokuba asked, confused. "The king from Ancient Egypt?"

Yugi's eyebrow raised. "I do believe you are the first person not to call me a 'pharaoh.' I think I like you, youngling." Mokuba gave a half-smirk. "In any case, yes. Call me Yami." He held out a hand, and Mokuba shook it without hesitation. The boy felt a kind of…thrum. Some energy, like static electricity. He did not loosen his grip. Yugi grinned.

"So I take it from your choice of reading earlier that you are harboring a certain interest in my patria terra?"

"Well, kind of. We're talking about Egypt in my history class. I asked Isis Ishtar about it, and she lent that book to me."

"And how is Miss Ishtar?"

"…Fine? She's a teacher now."

Yugi rubbed his chin, mulling this over. "Very good. I'm pleased to hear it." Mokuba was reminded of what he called his brother's "sunshine voice," which Seto used whenever he had no choice but to sound pleasant, and laid on a charm so thick that it hung in the air. Yugi or Yami or whoever he was didn't care about Isis Ishtar any more than Mokuba cared about North Korean politics.

"A pleasant coincidence that you would be studying my people," Yugi said. He glanced at the front door of the shop. "And another coincidence. It seems the lieutenants return from the field."

Mokuba looked over at the door, confused.

Joey and Tristan walked in almost thirty seconds later.

"Welcome, my brothers!" Yugi said, chuckling. "It would seem as though the…gang's all here." He winked at Mokuba. "Your esteemed brother would, of course, be most welcome as well. However, as I am sure he is busy, we will have to make do without him. No matter. That should only serve to make this even more interesting."

"…Huh?"

"You talkin' about that ritual thing?" Joey asked. "Hey, Moku-man. Whassup?"

"Hi. Ritual?"

"Yami's back in town to pull a little hocus-pocus," Tristan said. "Somethin' to do with us. I think."

Mokuba looked over at his friend—and the spirit/disorder that had control of him—who now had his eyes closed; his lips were moving, but if he was speaking, his voice was so low that none of them could hear it. Joey tried to ask what was going on, but Tristan elbowed him in the gut to keep him quiet.

Seto had always taught his brother to embrace fear. To smother it, conquer it. To use it to sharpen his senses. Mokuba felt a shiver of that most primal of emotions go through him, and he forced it down. When Yugi opened his eyes again, though, they seemed to glow a bright, bloody red that sliced right through the young Kaiba's courage and froze his blood.

We are all here, came a deep, sharp, powerful voice that slammed into Mokuba's head and seemed to push from inside his skull. We have been called to the Hall of Two Truths. Here we stand, and here we lay our necks bare. Do you answer the call of mayet?

Mokuba wondered if that word was the thing Isis Ishtar's book called "maat," the Ancient Egyptian ideal of justice and order. But that thought, like every other thought in his head, was muted. Muffled. Strangled and desperate.

A flash of golden light, and Yugi's face was…Yugi's again. Yami had retreated.

Yugi breathed deep, let it out shuddering, and said, "…I answer the call of mayet."

He looked at Téa. She stiffened, but eventually nodded and said, "I answer the call of mayet."

Joey was next: "I answer the call of mayet."

Tristan: "I answer the call of mayet."

Yugi looked at Mokuba, but before he could speak, before he could even think to recite the words, Yami's face was back. Those bloody eyes were back. The voice of death was back:

Do you, orphan, answer the call of mayet? Do you, orphan, lay forth your hand? Do you, orphan, offer your blood for your blood? Do you answer the call? Do you submit to the will of mayet?

Mokuba realized that even if he'd wanted to refuse—and he did—he wouldn't have been able to. His voice didn't work. His limbs didn't work. With all the suddenness of a lightning strike in a bright summer sky, the young Kaiba was terrified. Every memory of fear, the very essence of horror, had overtaken him.

And it was all he could do to nod.

The king's hand snatched out and grabbed Mokuba's wrist.

Across the table, he dragged the boy's arm, holding up the palm of his right hand. The king brought forth a knife in his free hand, and before the idea of pulling back even entered Mokuba's mind, pain lanced through him like a flash of white fire, and the voice echoed in his ears.

Then we begin.


Yami's performance here is influenced by mythology, but not specifically taken from it. As Mokuba guessed, "mayet" is a variant spelling of "maat," or "ma'at," the Egyptian concept of justice. This goddess bore the feather which was weighed against the hearts of the dead to determine their eternal fate. This weighing would take place before Osiris in, yes, the Hall of Two Truths.

The character of Yami in this project isn't just an exercise in writing a social sadist, but also acts as a vessel for bringing Egypt back into the series. The use of Egyptian theology is sorely lacking in the main series after the beginning of the Duelist Kingdom arc, and I'm seeking with this project, along with "Cult of the Dragon King," to bring it back.