I tried to make it clear what I was doing in my last note, in regard to the list of Egyptian kings. There seems to still be some confusion.

First, yes, I am trying to be accurate in my portrayal of Egyptian history; which is to say, as accurate as I can be. Considering one of the main characters in the Yu-Gi-Oh! Franchise is a king that never existed, I have no choice but to bend the rules. There is literally no other option.

I took Djedefra out of the running to make room for Yami/Atemhotep. In my version of Egypt, he never existed. The Seti I that takes the throne after him has nothing whatsoever to do with the Seti I that we know. I did this because Priest Seto, as he is known in canon, was the next king after Atemhotep died. However, Seto is a Japanese name, not an Egyptian one. There is no reason to believe that Atem's replacement was in any way Japanese, and so I changed his name to Seti, which is the closest Egyptian equivalent I could find that really felt like it fit; and it should, since the name already exists.

The "real" Seti I reigned early in Dynasty 19. But he can't be Seti I anymore, in this story, because the name has already been used way back in Dynasty 4. So he's now Seti II. The "real" Seti II, who also ruled in Dynasty 19, would be Seti III.

The Fourth Dynasty, which is the most important one for this story, would thus look like this, in the Egypt that exists here in "Cult of the Dragon King":

Sneferu

Akhmenkhuamun (Akhenamkhanen in canon, Atem's father; replaces Khufu)

Atemhotep (Atem in canon, Yami; replaces Djedefra)

Seti I (Priest Seto, Seto Kaiba's ancestor; replaces Khafra)

Menkaura (Mokuba's ancestor; matches up with our history)

Shepseskaf.

One other thing before we get going with today's chapter: the conflict between Seto and Seti is in no way over. It hasn't been resolved by a long shot. The reason I did things as amicably as I did last chapter was simple: there are three examples of "spirit relationships" in canon. Yami/Yugi, Yami Bakura/Ryou, Yami Malik/Malik; and now, we have Seti/Seto.

In two out of the three canon situations, the relationship is wholly and irrevocably twisted. Yami Malik is a manifestation of insanity; Yami Bakura is a manifestation of evil. The only one who's even halfway benevolent is Yami Yugi, and in this story he's far from "a good guy." He's kind of a jerk.

I didn't want the same kind of relationship to take place between Seto and Seti because…well, it's kind of old hat by now. I wanted something a bit more subtle. Sort of.

Okay. I'm done rambling. I'll let Seti speak for himself. Let's get started, shall we?

Verse One.

"Mokuba. Come here, please. I'd like to speak with you."

Mokuba was used to his brother's voice having a professional edge to it; it was just a part of the man's personality. Even when Seto was in a good mood, happy, even when he was talking to a friend, there was a certain restraint that suggested he was paying the utmost attention to every word that came out of his mouth, just in case it might get quoted in a newspaper article later.

But Mokuba couldn't remember ever hearing this kind of somberness before. It didn't help any that neither Seto nor Noa had said a single word to him or to each other the entire ride home. Not that Mokuba had expected congratulations or a pat on the head or anything, but he might have expected some kind of banter to go on.

Noa was staring off into space, looking angry, and Seto looked like he was about to commit seppuku. He gestured for the youngest Kaiba to follow him, and Mokuba did the only thing he could possibly have done at this moment: he obeyed.

Seto walked slowly up the stairs to the second floor, and led his brother to the private study where he spent the majority of his time at home. Seto shut the door after Mokuba had slipped off his shoes and stepped inside.

Seto gestured for Mokuba to sit down; the only chair was Seto's own. The boy sat, feeling suddenly small. Confused and worried, Mokuba waited for his brother to speak.

"…You've been worried," Seto said, and his voice had a twinge of anger in it; it sounded much more natural that way, and Mokuba relaxed. "You've caught on to the fact that Noa and I have been hiding something from you."

Mokuba frowned. "Noa said Malik did something. Gave you something."

Seto nodded, reached under his coat, and revealed an object that Mokuba found instantly, unnervingly, familiar: it was the golden rod that Malik Ishtar had carried during the Battle City Tournament, so many eternities ago. In Seto's hand, it rested easily, naturally; that, more than anything else, put Mokuba back on his guard.

"You know what this is," Seto said.

"The Millennium Rod," Mokuba answered promptly.

"You have spoken to Yugi Mutou about what he calls 'the other me,' haven't you?"

Mokuba's frown deepened. "Um…yeah. Yami. Atemhotep. The king."

Seto nodded. "For the sake of argument, let us assume that Mutou hasn't been lying all these years, and that somehow someone who has been dead more than four thousand years can inhabit a piece of jewelry, and possess the body if whomever holds it."

"O…kay?"

"Another king …Yami's own replacement, in fact, can pull the same parlor trick."

"Sethos?" Mokuba asked.

"Sethos," Seto repeated. "Seti. He has apparently taken up residence in this hunk of…desert-glitter, as Noa has taken to calling it, and has claimed me to be his…vessel."

This wasn't right.

Of all the things Seto might have wanted to talk about, of all the topics Mokuba could ever have thought up, this was the one which half-convinced the young Kaiba that he was dreaming, and the words coming out of his big brother's mouth were a garbled-up mish-mash that he had picked up from Yugi.

"I could hide this from you," Seto went on. "I could work this out on my own. I could convince myself that this would only frighten you, or else unnerve you, and that everything would best be served if you were never told about this. But lying by omission has never served me adequately in the past."

"…You're not making any sense."

"I know I'm not. I'm spouting bullshit. But that is apparently the lot into which I've been cast, and I'm not about to let it get the better of me by closing my eyes to it. Yet another tactic that's never done me any favors."

Mokuba bit his bottom lip.

"I wanted to tell you this so that you know: if I do anything that seems out of character for me. If I frighten you, or upset you, or do anything that you feel betrays anything I've ever promised or taught you, it is because of this very simple reason: I am apparently no longer the sole occupant of my own skin. This Sethos, as you call him. This Seti. He is now a part of me. And until I figure out what to do to appease him or get rid of him, I want you to be on your guard. That means from me, too. I cannot trust myself to hold firm against this. I've already slipped far too many times. Noa saw it. You've seen it. Now you know what it is."

"Niisama, you're scaring me. Why are you…? What are you…?"

Seto stepped nearer to Mokuba and knelt down in front of him. Pulling the black-haired boy into a hug, Seto whispered, "I don't know, little one. I don't have answers this time. That's the problem. This is what I and Noa have tried to hide from you. I've been fucking possessed. Watch out for yourself until I work this out, baby brother. I love you, I'm proud of you, and I'm so sorry if I've let you forget that." He kissed Mokuba's temple.

When Seto leaned back, the child's mouth went dry.

The eyes into which Mokuba Kaiba had looked for comfort, guidance, and protection ever since he'd been old enough to know what any of those words meant; the blazing cobalt eyes that always looked forward and never faltered, weren't the eyes he saw set into his brother's face.

Glittering, ice-colored eyes bore into him, and an unfamiliar sort of sneer rose on Seto's lips that sent a shiver down Mokuba's spine. He had never once seen such a look directed at him before. Seto's hands let go of him, and those eyes stared at those hands like they were somehow tainted.

The man who was Seto, and yet was not Seto, leaned back and sat on his heels.

"So…tell me, boy. What, exactly, is so special about you? You look entirely too mundane to me."

The accent was thick, foreign, and Mokuba's entire body went stiff.

What happened next happened too fast to keep track of; the door flew open, a blur of white, a grunt of effort, and all of a sudden Seto's body was held back against the wall.

Left hand clenching into a fist that could crush stone, right forearm pushed against Seti's throat, Noa Kaiba looked so livid that any words that might be used to describe it shrank away into a corner. His voice was a coiled serpent, his eyes were flinty coals from the deepest depths of hell's torture chambers, and for a moment Mokuba could swear that the man's teeth were sharp.

Noa snarled: "…Learn your fucking place."

Verse Two.

Seti's eyes narrowed. "I was only making conversation. Are you simply looking for an excuse to usurp me, pretender? False prince? Homunculus? You dare not only to show yourself to me, not only to touch me, but to make demands of me."

"You're goddamned right, I'll make demands of you, you pretentious fucking mental disorder." Noa's voice was as cold as winter-tempered steel. "You're not Seto Kaiba. You're not a king, or a priest, or a god, or a monster, or whatever else you think you are. You're just as much a pretender as I am, and you don't even have your own body to manipulate, so you go ahead and insult me however you please. Doesn't change the fact that I've got you pinned to the fucking wall."

Seti's body pushed against Noa's arm, but the machine-made-man didn't budge. This obviously wasn't what the spirit had expected, because his iceberg eyes widened just the slightest bit.

"Noa…?" Mokuba asked, pitifully.

"Get out of here, Mokuba," Noa commanded. "Go to your room. Lock the door. If you hear anything, call Yugi." The middle Kaiba turned his eyes spasmodically. "Move!"

Mokuba bolted from the room.

"I simply wished to understand something about my descendant's priorities. You needn't turn this into a clash of wills," Seti said.

"Fuck you," Noa hissed. "You've got designs to 'intercede' on Seto's behalf. To teach him where his priorities ought to lie. You don't think Mokuba is nearly as important as Seto does, so you're inclined to fix the situation into something more in-tune with what you want. You want Seto to go digging for gold. You want Seto to go prancing around the country looking for the god-fucking Millennium Items. And since Seto's more concerned about Mokuba than he is about you, you've got it into your pathetic head to be insulted. Well, that's what I'm here for. You lay a finger on that boy, I'll play hopscotch in your chest cavity."

"You won't hurt me. You'll only hurt Seto."

Noa grinned. "Well, then. It's a good thing I'm not too fond of Seto, now, isn't it?"

"You, who are so concerned for the boy, would harm his brother."

"Fuck yes, I would. If all I have to do to keep him away from you is make him hate me, then you've made it too easy. We clear, fuck-stick? You are not to touch him, speak to him, look at him. Don't expect to reason with me, Seti. I'm insane, narcissistic, and I don't like you. You will never convince me of anything. So long as you use that body for whatever delusional purpose you have, consider me your warden."

"What is so vital about this child? Why do the both of you, and my cousin, regard him so highly as to act so idiotically?"

Noa clenched a fist around Seti's neck and launched him over his shoulder and onto the ground. Placing a foot onto his brother's chest, Noa stared down at him like a god from His Heaven. "I don't recall giving you permission to ask questions."

A scowl, a grunted curse, and suddenly the eyes were dark again.

"…That will do, Noa," Seto said, in his own voice.

Verse Three.

Noa most pointedly did not hold out a hand to help Seto stand up. As the eldest Kaiba rose to his feet, the middle one said, "So…now that we've scared the wits out of the one we're trying to protect…what's the plan, Aniki?"

It was this self-directed anger, whether it was natural or carefully cultivated, that proved there was more to Noa's resemblance to Seto than his looks; when the subject was Mokuba, if nothing else, Noa matched Seto's emotional makeup as well.

He brooked no excuses, even from himself.

Seto closed his eyes. "Seti is…angry. I'll handle him. I have control for the moment. If I must…I'll consult Mutou."

"A hard sell, I'm sure," Noa said. "But you might wanna cut right to the last resort this time. Much as I don't like to admit it, he knows this shit. So…what about me? Protection detail? Rampant homicide? I'm fine with either."

"Take Mokuba to Roland. Gather the entire security team. Put him up somewhere." Seto hesitated for a long, painful moment. "…Don't tell me where."

Noa nodded. "Will do."

"Damn it. I suppose I've a meeting to keep." Seto snatched up his keys from his desk, then reached into a drawer and retrieved a pistol. After long consideration, he put the weapon back, slammed the drawer shut with nearly enough force to splinter the wood, and shot past Noa toward the door.

"Noa," Seto said, as he turned the knob. "I'm trusting you. I heard you, while he had control. I know you are willing to…do what must be done. If he poses a threat to my boy's safety, you'd damn well better be ready to put a bullet through my heart."

"I'm not nearly that romantic," Noa replied, smirking. "I'll aim for the head."

Seto returned the smirk, and turned away.

"…Good."

Verse Four.

Days passed.

Isis Ishtar's mythology class came and went, and Mokuba Kaiba did not attend. He was staying in a Motel 6 outside of Domino's limits, where Seto's private security team tried to distract him with games and cartoons, and Roland Ackerman held down the fort at Kaiba-Corp.

Nobody seemed to know where Seto was. The company had yet to collapse in spite of its two leaders having vanished off the face of the earth—so far as they knew, the Kaibas were on vacation, an event that surely marked the beginning of the Apocalypse—but it was fast becoming…hectic.

Yugi Mutou, too, had disappeared.

The Ishtar siblings knew these things, and knew why they had happened, but somewhere in the backs of their minds they were convinced that Seto and Mokuba could handle themselves, and it was likely that Yugi was with them, wherever they were.

They told themselves that the Kaibas were safe.

Isis, Rishid, and Malik returned home after a movie, three days after these disappearances, talking and laughing and generally enjoying each other's company. Isis entered their apartment first, flipped on the lights, and felt the smile slough from her face as her entire body went stiff as an ice statue.

Sitting on the living room couch, with one leg crossed over the other and his arms splayed out against the back cushions, was a young man in white. He had a traditional Chinese-styled white shirt, white slacks, navy blue socks and gleaming, polished brown shoes. His windswept bangs had been dyed a light, aqua green; the rest of his hair was a darker shade, nigh on blue.

Noa Kaiba's eyes, shaded by his newly-colored hair, were blistering.

"The door was unlocked," he murmured softly, silkily, almost purring. "I let myself in. Hope you don't mind."

Isis drew in a steadying breath. "…I locked that door myself. What are you doing here?"

"I just wanted to talk, Doctor Ishtar." Noa smiled, gesturing grandly. "Please. Don't pretend that you don't know why. We're all intelligent, well-bred adults here, aren't we? Your brother gave my brother a gift. And because of that gift, my brother is now plagued with an angry spirit, demanding that he find…certain artifacts, in exchange for autonomy of his own body. Your brother, on the other hand, is sneaking Reese's cups into a movie theater, and playing Facebook games on his phone during the boring parts."

Isis swallowed nervously. "Malik. Rishid—"

"Come in," Noa said, and it was a command; not a request. "I want to talk to you, too. It would be bothersome if I had to go out and…find you. Don't leave."

The two Ishtar men flanked their sibling. Malik's eyes were narrowed. "Have you been following us?" he asked.

Noa's eyebrows raised. "Oh. I'm sorry. Was that presumptuous of me? I suppose I should have found a piece of haunted jewelry to give you before I decided to become a stalker. Like you did."

It was Malik's turn to flinch. His eyes flared with anger.

Isis held up a hand. "Malik. Enough. What's happened? Are your cousins…? Are they…well?"

"Don't be thick. You know damned well who I am. I'm just like you, Doctor Ishtar. The middle child. The underestimated genius. My brothers are alive,if that's what you mean to ask. Which is lucky for you."

"You're right," Malik said. "I do know who you are. So don't play innocent, Kaiba. You don't get to threaten me. You've committed just as many crimes as I have."

"I'll threaten whomever I damn well please," Noa replied, smiling. "What I've done is neither here nor there. Right now, as we speak, a little boy is crying himself to sleep, and that has nothing to do with me. That's on your head."

Rishid spoke next: "We are not here to pass judgment on past misdeeds. Malik, please. Be quiet a moment. Mister Kaiba, what has happened to your brothers? Are they in danger?"

Noa's expression turned passably pleasant when he looked at Rishid; he seemed to like the man. But as Noa uncrossed his legs and stood up, his eyes turned dark and opaque again. "That, unfortunately, is yet to be determined. Considering the track record of this city, and my family, when it comes to magic…yes. They are. And that bothers me, as I'm sure you can imagine. Especially considering I already warned you about this Millennium Item business. I believe I made myself quite clear when I told you that I didn't want you near my family." He was staring straight into Malik's soul now. "Now, either you are irretrievably stupid when it comes to human communication, or you've gotten it into your idiotic little head that I am less of a threat than a ghost hiding in an old knife."

The middle Kaiba snatched out a hand and coiled it around Malik's still-injured own. The former tomb-keeper howled with sudden agony. Noa pulled him close.

"You listen to me, insect, then draw your conclusions. Seti is a spirit, four thousand years dead, able to inhabit the body of anyone weak enough to let him through. My brother is fighting to keep him contained, and Yugi Mutou is helping him. Seti's motivations involve the Millennium Items, and he no longer has any interest in you whatsoever. I, on the other hand, am a machine. I am tangible, I don't fatigue, I don't sleep, I'm three times stronger than any human being has a right to be, and I fucking hate you. So. Who's the bigger threat now?"

"Noa, please—" Isis began, holding up her hands.

"You shut your mouth!" Noa snarled through clenched teeth. "You're the one who started this goddamned circus! Without you, the God Cards would still be a fucking urban legend! You prompted Seto to start Battle City!" Noa crunched Malik's hand until his bones scraped, then tossed him aside, as if too disgusted to touch him anymore. "You all have blood on your hands."

He stopped for a moment, considering. Then Noa continued.

"But you are correct on one score. I do, too. I wronged them. My brothers. I put their lives at risk, I manipulated them, I tried to tear them apart. I hurt them. I nearly ruined them. But do you know what happened? Because Mokuba is a kinder, gentler person than I have any right to expect, I am here. After nearly killing them, my brothers brought me back into this world. Mokuba forgave me, treated me like family. He made me a promise to find me a new body, and he kept it. And since then, he has provided me the love and support that my own, blood family never bothered to give, without reservation. I have spent every waking moment since I first showed up here, in a hospital bed with a body made of synthetic parts, trying to repay that debt."

He turned back toward the couch. All three Ishtars were still near the door, and made no effort to fully enter the apartment. The door was still open.

"Mokuba decided to take a chance on you, too, Malik Ishtar. He apologized for treating you badly, that first day in your sister's class, and returned there to learn from you. You, who kidnapped him, threatened his life, and nearly murdered the man he loves more than anyone or anything on this earth. He apologized to you. Malik Ishtar. Even though you have never done him a single kindness, never proven yourself to be anything but a sociopathic megalomaniac in his eyes, never even told him that you regret the crimes you committed against him."

Isis wanted to speak. So badly, she wanted to speak. But she held her tongue.

She didn't want to provoke this man. He was a demon.

Noa said, slowly, "Have you deluded yourself into thinking you're a good person? That Seto's hatred of you, that my hatred of you, is somehow wrong? That you have any right to be offended by what we think of you? I spend every moment of the day trying to reclaim my life and somehow repay the people who have done more justice to my family's legacy than any blood member ever has! I killed my own father to atone for my sins! I rightfully call myself a monster for what I did to them!"

Noa took hold of Isis's shoulder and shoved her aside to free up the doorway, stepping through it.

"…The three of you owe a debt to my brothers. If you do not take this final chance to make up for your actions and pay that debt—before Seto or, God forbid, Mokuba comes to harm—then I will come back here, and I will show you how a real Kaiba responds to insults."

Verse Four.

He walked briskly, but aimlessly. Noa's blood felt like it was literally burning. He didn't know if Seti was actually a threat to Mokuba's safety. Noa had said it himself: the spirit of the Millennium Rod didn't care about Malik Ishtar anymore. He was sure of that. So why should the spirit of the Millennium Rod be concerned about Mokuba? Surely he wouldn't commit cold-blooded murder? Surely this was just a matter of pride?

Noa didn't know. He didn't trust the spirit's eyes. They reminded him too much of his father's eyes; they were the eyes of a wise man who knew all too well that he was wise. They were the eyes of well-earned, well-placed arrogance. Noa knew what such a man was capable of doing; Noa was such a man.

He had dyed his hair in a gesture that even he couldn't properly define. He looked the same as he had when he'd been an immortal, intangible child. The only betrayal of his old form was that he wore slacks, instead of shorts. Because he was an adult now. He was in control now. No longer was he held by the trappings of childhood.

Perhaps he wanted to deliver a message; not to the Ishtars, but to himself.

Noa didn't know.

He crossed streets, ducked behind alleys, hopped over fences, secure in the knowledge that he knew this city better, more intimately, than anyone else who lived here. Even though he had only lived here for less than a month.

That, at least, he knew.

Domino City at night was oppressive; the storefronts were cells, and their wardens were the statues. The sky above him was a smothering quilt held over his head so that death would come easy and without any fuss. Even during the day, Noa felt as if God were staring down at His own private ant farm. When he had been God, he had lorded over his private playground, plucking up people and tossing them around; Noa couldn't help but feel like there was some other God now, in this world that people thought was real.

Maybe that God had iceberg eyes, and a thick accent.

He sensed something.

Snapped out of his dreamlike pessimistic musings, Noa's eyes narrowed and his fists clenched. He did not feel threatened. Most of him hoped that someone would toss himself out of a dark and shadowy corner with a switchblade or a compact pistol, demanding all the fuckin' money in his wallet or I'll spill ya blood right on this 'ere concrete!

It would give Noa an excuse to practice. For the Ishtars.

An animalistic growl, deeper and more primal than anything strictly human would be able to make, worked its way out of Noa's throat. Such was his slow fury that even when he realized that he recognized the voice that called out to him— "…Mister Kaiba? Oh, no. Oh, no. Oh…"—some part of him was already justifying his forthcoming blasphemy.

Noa forced an image of Seto and Mokuba into the forefront of his mind, and remembered what he had said. He was never going to repay the debt that he owed his brothers if he did not hold himself to their standards. So he stayed his hand, and watched as the hunched figure in the back alley slowly, shakily, rose to his full height.

"Ryou Bakura," Noa said, idly. "You'll want to find a new place to build a clubhouse, you know. People will talk." Then he noticed the blood dripping from his unlikely companion's arms and hands; and the bodies lying sacrificially at his feet.

Noa blinked, looking surprised for the barest of moments.

Bakura's body seemed to spasm for a moment, then stiffen, and then his face twisted into a damning facsimile of happiness. It reminded Noa of what happened when Yami took control of Yugi, and he realized that that was precisely what had happened.

Ryou had a spirit of his own.

Or, rather, a spirit had Ryou as its own.

"Oh, my…good evening, Kaiba. It's always an unabashed pleasure to see you." His voice seemed to warble in the night air, like it was announcing some unnatural sentience unfit for this world. "Did I frighten you…?"

Noa smiled, a facsimile all its own.

He said, "Now whatever would possess you to think that?"

END.

Can you see where this is going? Maybe. Can I see where this is going? Maybe not.

Yay! Noa looks like he's supposed to! You may be wondering why I changed his hair color (the question has been asked before) in the first place. The answer is Seto. I don't think Noa's hair is naturally green. Anime rarely confines itself to realistic hair colors (or styles). I think maybe Noa made his hair green in his private world because he felt like it, or maybe he had it dyed before he...died. Either way, I think Seto confined himself to nature as much as he could, and so he didn't make Noa's hair green because that's just weird. But now, Noa is claiming himself again. He changed himself, for himself. So, things are now as they should be. Sort of.

Also, the line about playing hopscotch in Seti's chest cavity...might have been lifted from Borderlands 2. I couldn't resist. Normally I would blame Noa for this, claiming that he stole the line without my consent, but considering the timeline of this story, that doesn't work; so I guess it's on me.

I'm in the middle of writing an original novel for the event known as Camp NaNoWriMo right now. The goal is to write 100,000 words in 30 days. So far, I have 16,000 under my belt. Not as far as I need to be.

So I won't be updating for a while. But I had this ready, so I decided to take a break this morning and polish it up for posting.

I recently checked the Legacy User Stats on my profile. It has been brought to my attention that I have archived a total of 972,197 words over the course of my 11 years on this site.

This is huge for me. I'm inching up on 1 million words. So obviously, I must break that record. It's now actively in my sights, and I'll have to do something big when it happens. I'm not sure what, but that's a pretty big freaking milestone, and I hope you'll join me as we head into the home stretch.

Also, if any of you would like to keep track of how I'm doing with my first major foray into original fiction—that is, my Camp NaNoWriMo project—I'm posting it over at my personal blog, which I can't link here because of regulations, or whatever. It's a Blogspot blog called "The Cottage at the Edge of Forever." Each day I'll be putting up a day's worth of work, so that you all can see what my writing looks like when it's…well, raw.

No filtering, no backtracking, no fact-checking. Just creative abandon. Just like the event says it should be.

Hope to see you there. And I hope you enjoyed this chapter.