Those of you who came to this story after reading "Shifting Images" might realize that I have spent a long, long time setting things up. This is to say that none of the chapters up to now have really covered any of the events that were covered in the original story. I think that that is an indication of just how little I set up the original story.

That being said, starting here, the plotlines of both projects will finally begin to overlap. Almost nothing is going to happen in exactly the same fashion, but I expected that to happen. But I think you will recognize this for what it is.

It's odd to think about how long I've been working on this story, how much has gone into it, to only just now reach a plot point that looks and feels familiar.

The biggest shift in development has been, most assuredly, Noa. So I say we should start with him. What do you think?

Let's begin.

Verse One.

Pegasus Crawford was a man used to catching people off-guard, but more to the point he was used to being able to read people—voice, body language, choice of clothing, reactions to conversation, and pretty much anything else—to gauge how to proceed in a given situation.

Meeting Noa Kaiba, Assistant Communications Coordinator for the Kaiba Electronic Gaming Corporation, was a thoroughly off-putting, and alienating, event—simply because he could not manage to get a solid read on any of his usual tells.

The stark-white, stylish suit and fedora should have meant arrogance; his manner of speaking was disarmingly humble. The bright, scrutinizing eyes should have meant keen observational skills; he acted oblivious to anything and everything around him. He spoke boisterously, with animated hand gestures, which should have indicated transparency; yet Pegasus couldn't elicit a single reaction out of him that was in any way expected.

Noa was currently scrawling notes onto a legal pad. "Well, it certainly sounds like you've wasted no time getting back onto the saddle," he said, grinning amiably. "I like where your head's at, Mister Crawford. I won't lie. I was concerned at first, when you requested a private meeting with us. And I do apologize that Seto-sama wasn't able to make it. And, well, Mokuba-sama is in school right now. Can't very well pull him out of Social Studies, now, can we? Sends the wrong message."

"If I may ask," Pegasus cut in, "what is your relation to…ah…Seto-sama?"

"His esteemed father was my eldest uncle," Noa said.

"You have just now moved into the city?"

"Yes, sir."

"Is this your first time in Domino?"

"Yes, sir. It's been quite illuminating so far. And a bit intimidating. But I feel that I'm learning a lot from the experience. It was an unabashed pleasure to make your acquaintance, sir. I dearly hope that we meet again." He leaned over the table and extended his hand.

Pegasus accepted the gesture and shook it, but did not let go.

A glint of gold shimmered from behind his hair. Noa blinked, looking confused.

"…I do not make a habit of meeting with people who lie to me." There was a beat of silence, wherein Noa should have been thoroughly intimidated. And Pegasus should have won whatever game they had been playing since he'd arrived. "Kaiba-boy's esteemed father was your esteemed father. Did you think I would fall for that story? Did you think I would not recognize your name? Your face? Kaiba's resurrected the dead. Hasn't he? Hasn't he?"

Noa's face went slack. "I…"

It should have been easy. Pegasus's grip on the young man's hand tightened as the fever in his visible eye heightened. "Tell me the truth. I won't…ask…again."

Then, with a blink as quick as a power outage, the mind through which Pegasus had been sifting for the past hour just—disappeared. Noa Kaiba's face had lost its amiability, lost its surprise…and its patience. The man's hand tightened like a vice, and Pegasus grunted as he felt his bones begin to scrape against each other.

"You have already made an enemy out of my brothers," Noa whispered, almost seductively, "by underestimating the relevance of their reputation. I would suggest that you not make the same mistake with me, because I am not nearly as forgiving as they are." A wide, predatory grin spread on the young executive's handsome face and made it gruesome. "You see, Crawford…unlike strong, stoic Seto and sweet little Mokuba, I am not a decent human being. I am a monster, same as you are. And I have little tolerance for my own kind."

He let go of Pegasus's limp hand.

"What…are you?"

Noa took out a kerchief and wiped off his hand. He rolled his shoulders, reached up and tipped his hat.

"…A warning."

Verse Two.

Yami watched the staircase like there was something still waiting in the shadows, like the sharp echoes of Rishid's footfalls on the steps were hammer strikes against some cosmic anvil, and he was waiting for the forge to flare up. He sighed and fell back to a sitting position, turning his attention to Malik. He reached over and took the former tomb-keeper's smoldering hand in one of his own. "You've done well," the spirit murmured. "Your task is complete. Rest, and be assured that your trial is ended."

Malik's body visibly relaxed.

"What happens now?" Téa asked tentatively. The same question was written on every face, and they all turned to Yami for the answer. He always had the answer. They didn't have to wait for him to speak before they realized that he didn't—not this time.

"Now, we wait," he said. "Now, we do something that we have never done, yet should have long before. Now, we lay our hopes at Kaiba's feet, and pray he takes up the challenge."

"Can Seto Kaiba be trusted with such a task?" Isis posed, frowning.

"It is not a matter of trust," Yami said. He sounded offended. "Never are workings of this magnitude so simple that we can pass judgment upon them. Understand something, Miss Ishtar: I lived among my people as a living deity. My word was law, my wish absolute. There was never a question of my authority, throughout my years upon that throne. And I believed it. Truly, and without irony, I believed and trusted in my own divinity. In the intervening millennia between then and now, I have come to understand the truth. I am an instrument. As are we all. In asking whether we can trust Kaiba to perform this task which is to be presented to him, you do the same as wondering whether a lump of metal is worthy of becoming a sword. It is only the eye of the expert smith to decide such a thing. We are not smiths. We are lumps of metal, yet to be forged."

Isis did not seem to approve of this answer. But she did not press further.

"It is not a question of whether he is worthy," Yami said, "but a question of whether he can be made worthy. Answer me this truthfully: have you ever met another man with more raw potential to change the shape of this earth?"

Isis stared back at him. "You."

Yami smirked. "Yes. You all had faith in me. And I failed. Perhaps it is time to see what happens when we let the gods decide."

"Seems strange," Tristan muttered. "Gods putting faith in an atheist."

"Really?" Yami blinked. "I think that is the only thing that honestly makes sense about this situation."

Verse Three.

Mokuba tried to forget the feelings that surged through him whenever he looked at Malik Ishtar. He tried to focus on the lessons, he tried to pay attention to the young tomb-keeper's words, instead of the nightmares that surged up into his mind when he heard the young tomb-keeper's voice. He knew that his brother was right; he knew that he should let go of the past.

What was it about this man that made him so angry? That made him so scared? Why didn't he feel the same when he looked at Noa? What was it about the man who shared his name that made him feel at ease when, as Seto had so rightly said, he'd done more to threaten their lives than Malik ever had?

It wasn't Noa's fault, came the answer. But then, by all accounts, what Malik had done hadn't been his fault, either. So why did he expect Malik to accept the consequences of his actions, yet not hold Noa to the same standard?

No matter how often he asked himself these questions, Mokuba couldn't figure out any answers.

After his lessons with the Ishtars were over, it was always Noa who came into the classroom. Sometimes, it was because Seto was working; sometimes, it was because Seto was waiting in the car. The eldest Kaiba only ever spoke to the Ishtars when pressed; the last time he'd spoken to Isis had only been on her specific request, and Mokuba had a feeling that the only reason he'd heeded that request was because it had pertained to his performance in her class.

Thus, when Noa came in one Saturday, and Malik asked if Seto happened to be around, the temperature in the room immediately dropped to freezing. Noa said, "Whether he is or isn't…around, frankly, isn't your concern." His tone dripped with menace, and a lesser man would have quailed.

"It would be greatly appreciated if you could answer my question," Malik replied with some humility. He looked tired, and nervous.

Noa looked bored. "Get your pack, Mokuba."

"I need to speak with K—with…Mister Kaiba," Malik said. "Please."

"No."

Noa turned on a heel and gestured for his brother to lead the way out of the room. It seemed that as far as he was concerned, Malik Ishtar no longer existed. Isis looked somewhat miffed, but she also looked…sheepish. The young professor turned her attention to the paperwork on her desk and did not comment.

Malik made to step in front of the Kaibas and block the door; Noa gripped him by the shoulder and tossed him aside as though he were a particularly obstinate coatrack. "Damn it, man!" Malik snapped, seeming to have lost his patience. "This is important!"

Something changed in Noa's expression. Again, he gestured. "Mokuba, go outside. I'll be out in a minute."

Mokuba looked up at his cousin and frowned. "Be nice," he said, with some reproach.

But he left the room, and the door shut smoothly behind him.

Verse Four.

Noa turned to face Malik Ishtar with a look that could have frightened a thunderstorm.

Malik, fuming, stared right back at him. "Quit playing games," he snarled. "Do you think I'd even ask if it wasn't—"

"Let me speak plainly, Ishtar," Noa cut him off, like he hadn't spoken at all. "It surprises me to the point of being insulted that you are still alive. Never mind my family's name and reputation. Disregard your sheer stupid arrogance of thinking you had the intelligence or the cunning to outwit a Kaiba, to say nothing of both. Your 'empire' may have been a fun little diversion while you cried out for attention. Your 'Ghouls' may have let you feel powerful. To those of us with real power, you're about as relevant as a fucking gnat. I'd suggest you learn your place before you go around demanding audiences with people too far out of your league. You might get your feelings hurt."

Malik's teeth clenched, and he looked ready to start throwing punches. Isis stood from her desk. "I must ask that you refrain from making threats in my classroom," she said coldly.

Noa turned to look at her, distantly curious. "Do you know? I'm getting rather tired of the both of you." He leaned back a bit, as though taking in the entire scene before him and finding it distasteful. "Your brother, Rishid, seems to be the only one out of the three of you who understands the gravity of what you did. What you all did. Your brother is the only one who lowers his eyes in front of Mokuba and Seto both. The two of you, though. You seem to think that all is forgiven, and you have the right to hold your heads high and pull your shoulders back. Look at us, you say to the world. We're free now. We've gained our independence, and we've taken control of our lives. We're proud, and we should be proud. But the funny part is…a member of my family still has nightmares because of you."

"As much as I regret my part in bringing young Mokuba to harm," Isis said slowly, "the past cannot be changed. I cannot take back what I have done any more than I can ignore it. Allowing my past mistakes to rule me does no one any service."

"I don't think you understand what I'm telling you," Noa said icily. His eyes were like metal plates. "In regard to whatever psychological double-talk you use to help yourself sleep at night, not a single flying fuck do I give. You hurt someone I love. There's no coming back from that. There's no penance. So go ahead and pretend you have the right to speak to Seto Kaiba. Pretend you have the right to look Mokuba in the eye. It doesn't change the truth."

Noa adjusted his hat, turned on a heel, and left.

Isis watched the door long after he'd gone.

Eventually, she said, "…I don't know if I'll ever understand how that child manages to instill such honest devotion in such dangerous people."

Verse Five.

"Mister Kaiba."

Seto Kaiba did not forget a voice. In his line of work, it was the peak of dangerous stupidity to forget people. He could not afford the arrogance of pretending he was invincible anymore. He had been proven wrong too many times. Contrary to what Yugi Mutou or his friends might have believed of him, Seto had long since accepted a great number of truths into his personal view of the world; truths upon which he would have spat not too long ago.

So yes. He knew the voice of Malik Ishtar. Immediately on his guard, Seto turned to face the Egyptian youth who had caused him such a headache lately, wondering what Malik thought he might accomplish by ambushing Kaiba-Corp's CEO in its own parking lot.

"Your cousin has made it clear to me," Malik said, an unreadable expression on his face and a strange fire in his eyes, "that I am…not permitted to speak with you."

For a moment, Seto didn't know what Malik was talking about. Then he remembered Noa's cover story, and resisted the urge to roll his eyes. "Yet you are here," the eldest Kaiba intoned. "Apparently you put little stock in Noa's authority. I suppose I should respect you for that."

Malik chuckled, spasmodically, but a look of immense discomfort sent a shock through him, and he shivered. Seto thought he looked guilty. The former tomb-guardian cleared his throat, drew in a deep breath, and reached behind his back.

"I'm sorry," he said. "A spirit far beyond my power to quell commands this."

With a speed that defied imagining, Malik's arm snatched out, and he pressed something into Seto's hand. A sudden, biting, smoldering pain shot up Seto's entire body, and for one delirious flash he thought he'd been stabbed.

He looked down, and saw a gleam of angry gold staring up at him, before his head start swimming and the world went black.

By the time Seto crumpled, unconscious, to the concrete, Malik Ishtar was gone.