It's been 14 years since I first published this version of the story I originally wrote for a contest in 2007. I don't think I had any idea which direction it would take, back when I started. All I knew was that I wanted a fresh crack at things, and that was enough for me back then.

I never needed much motivation to start a project.

It's ending them that's always been the problem.

I think that might be why I'm so emotional about this.

I feel like I'm finally learning a skill I've been chasing for … too long.

Thanks for joining me on this journey.

Let's see how this last act unfolds, shall we?

Verse One.

"If I didn't know better," Noa said, "I'd think maybe you had a high opinion of yourself."

Seto offered his brother a sardonic look. "You know damn well that my bravado comes from a lack of self-worth. It's not that I don't think it's possible for me to lose. It's that I don't care anymore. What's the worst that could happen? I die? I've had people threatening to kill me since I turned ten years old."

"That's not . . . really any healthier, though, is the thing, Niisama," Mokuba said.

"I've never been healthy a day in my life," Seto replied.

Noa and Mokuba both smiled, but they shared a look. They both knew Seto wasn't in the mood to bicker for the sake of it; he was gearing up to say something important, and they both knew him well enough to anticipate it.

Sensing the shift of energy in the room, Seto heaved a sigh.

"Shadi said that he carried two items," the eldest Kaiba said, "to be a stopgap for men like me." Mokuba's face soured, but he didn't interrupt. Seto went on: "Whether I believe in his . . . analysis of my motives or not—for the record, I don't—the fact remains that I've gained a level of strength and influence that most people can't hope to match. On top of the power and influence I already have, it's . . . concerning. I can't pretend to be blameless, or to know that I'm going to be a just and noble king, or whatever."

Noa crossed his arms over his chest. "After all," he said, "you're still a Kaiba."

"Precisely," Seto said. "I know how my predecessor would expect me to use this power, and I know I want nothing to do with his vision for my future, but that doesn't mean I don't fall back on what he taught me. I know I do. I've seen myself do it, recently."

"You're thinking you might end up like him," Mokuba guessed, "except worse, because that man never had magic."

"We don't know that for certain," Noa pointed out. "For all we know, he might have dabbled in witchcraft or something." At Mokuba's incredulous look, he gestured randomly. "Anyway, that's not important. Ignore me." He bowed in Seto's direction. "Go on, Aniki."

"If I go down a road that doesn't match my mission," Seto said, "and you both know what my mission is: I exist to make the lives of children safer, warmer, brighter, better. That is all I have ever done, and it's all I ever intend to do. So, if you see me slipping, losing sight of that mission, you know what I fully endorse and expect you to do. Don't you?"

"Stop you," both boys said at the same time.

"Are you prepared for that? Can you do that? Are you sure?"

"I have no idea," Noa admitted, "but that's never stopped me before."

"We won't let you betray your dream, Niisama," Mokuba said, with conviction.

"Even if it means putting me down? Even if it means putting a bullet in me?"

"We're Kaibas, too," Noa said. "We do what we must."

Verse Two.

It was easy to find Kisara these days; not just because Seto's consciousness had expanded, but because their work together in the deepest reaches of multiple shadow games had put hooks into them, and it was unlikely that either would ever be able to hide from the other again. They both knew that they were meant to work together; it was an inevitability.

So it was that Seto took another walk, seemingly at random, out into the gardens at three in the morning. He stopped when he found Kisara, who was standing at one of the statues bearing her dragon's likeness; she was watching it like she was trying to divine answers from it. Seto didn't have to announce himself; she knew he was there. She barely acknowledged him, but it was enough.

"You know why I'm here," Seto said.

"Mm," said Kisara. "I imagine you've already spoken to your brothers."

"I have."

She nodded. "Is it safe for me to assume, then that this is my part in the oath to your court?" She spoke with a certain lightness in her tone, but there was no pretending that she wasn't paying close attention to everything that was happening right now. Kisara wasn't treating this lightly, even as she pretended to. "I cannot promise that I possess the ability to kill you, my prince, even if you become a man I do not recognize."

Seto grunted. "I suppose I'm not surprised to hear that."

Kisara turned to look at him now, her expression unreadable. "If I were to fall from grace, would you be able to kill me?"

Seto's eyebrows raised. "Absolutely not," he said immediately.

Kisara laughed. "You are . . . adorable."

Seto rolls his eyes. "Whether you can do it or not, I have to ask." He paused. "If I betray my vision for the future, will you stop me?"

Kisara squared her shoulders. "I will do all that is within my power to put a stop to any such betrayal," she said. "If I am pressed to lay the killing blow upon your neck, and find myself unable to rise to that task, then I swear to you that I will find one who can." Her eyes gleamed. "Trust me when I say that there are plenty of my fellow monsters who fly your banner. All will answer my call. What I cannot do, they will."

"I wonder," Seto murmured softly, "if that includes Obelisk."

Kisara's grin showed off fangs that she definitely hadn't possessed the last time Seto saw her in the real world. "You can be certain of that, my prince. He may fully and fundamentally believe himself to be my better, and I will permit him to do so for as long as he likes. The fact remains, however, that I am your right hand, and he will answer when I call."

"Every monster I have ever used," Seto said, "answers to you."

"They do," Kisara said. She tilted her head to one side. "Does this surprise you?"

Seto mulled this over.

"No," he said eventually. "It doesn't."

Verse Three.

"I don't imagine you counted on any of this, when you planned for a vacation here on the coast," Seto said. "I'm sorry about that. Domino City has never made sense, and it seems like any associates of mine end up in a nexus of fuckery."

Kisara snickered. "Stranger things have happened," she admitted. "If I started on the sequence of coincidences and the strings of nonsense that led me to meeting my king, I wouldn't be done until next week. At least."

Seto nodded. "That sounds about right," he said. "So, you remember your time with Seti."

Kisara nodded in turn. "The memories have come back to me gradually. I remember enough. Many things are . . . vague, admittedly. I have existed, in one form or another, for too many thousands of years to properly remember every minute detail." She eyed Seto suspiciously. "Not all of us are blessed with a photographic memory."

Seto shrugged. "I am the world's most special boy."

"You have the blessings of four gods," Kisara said, "and you have been accepted as a champion by the dead of Kul Elna. You jest, my prince, but you aren't far off." She frowned. "I wonder if I will be able to remember how I used to talk well enough to hide this . . . evolution of mine from my family."

"I don't suppose they would accept it at face value."

Kisara's frown deepened, like she was in physical pain. "I come from a conservative political family, my prince. Accepting things at face value is one of their favorite hobbies, but only when it involves hating the poor. Hearing that their eldest daughter has become a dragon . . . they'd ship me off to a conversion facility and convince themselves after the fact that a lobotomy was a hard decision, but one worth making. For my own good."

Seto grunted. "I know the type, unfortunately," he said. "If you'd rather set aside the situation for the moment, I could find space for you on one of my teams."

"Are you offering me a job?" Kisara asked, incredulous.

"Are you interested?"

". . . Possibly."

Seto crossed his arms over his chest. "I have a question for you, then, as the herald of the Blue-Eyes White Dragon: when Pegasus Crawford described your soul as an engine of destruction, how accurate was he?"

Kisara quirked an eyebrow. "My prince, I contain the fury of a thousand suns. At the slightest pretense I would eat a man, especially now that I have the teeth for it." She grinned wide, showing her fangs.

". . . Mokuba keeps saying I need to find a bodyguard," Seto said, "especially since Roland is getting older and really ought to start thinking about retirement." He frowned. "Given everything that's already happened between us, I'd say you've already proven yourself capable in multiple preliminary tests."

"You, who contain more magic than any mortal man in ten thousand years, want me for a bodyguard."

"Three-hundred thousand a year. Full benefits. Two-year signing bonus. All outstanding debts settled before your first paycheck."

Kisara blinked. Stared.

"Where do I sign?"

Verse Four.

Some days later, a visitor came knocking. Seto didn't suppose he was surprised to see Yugi Mutou on his porch, holding the Millennium Puzzle like it was a cake for a housewarming party, but all the same he didn't think he would ever be able to shake a certain sense of wonder whenever Atem deigned to grace Seto with his attention. Some part of the eldest Kaiba knew that it wasn't healthy to think that way, but most of him know that he hadn't been able to approach any relationship in a healthy way for most of his life.

It was part of the problem of being . . . him.

Kaibas weren't known for proper coping mechanisms.

Seto stood before his old rival like he was waiting for some kind of judgment. Eventually, into the more-than-awkward silence, he said: "Come in. Don't be a stranger, as some might say."

"Thanks." Yugi stepped into Kaiba Manor and sat where Seto offered. "I, uh . . . I'm not sure why Atem decided to take this long to talk to you about . . . what comes next. But he says he's ready now. So, whenever you want to proceed, I think this is it." He looked up at Seto, and there was something like grief on his face. "Whenever you're ready."

Seto was quite sure that Yugi was preparing to say goodbye to his partner again.

He took his time coming up with an answer.

"I think it would be best," Seto said eventually, "to handle this last test somewhere more fitting than my parlor, or my garden." Yugi looked surprised but interested. "This all began in one place, and I think it's where it should end: Kul Elna."

Recognition sparked in Yugi's eyes. "The village where they were forged."

Seto nodded. "The Millennium Items were made in the dark, hidden away from anyone who might stop them. This ritual, this game, should take place in the light. They should be seen."

Yugi smiled. "I think I like that," he said. Fear crossed his face. "Um . . . you'll pay for our flight, right? I don't . . . um. I don't have the money to take a trip to Egypt right now."

Seto snorted and rolled his eyes. "Tell your whole brigade. Make a vacation out of it. I don't know what any of this means for me now, but if I'm going to set myself up to be a king, or whatever I'm going to be called once it's over, if it's over, I may as well learn how to throw a proper festival." He paused. "Yes, Yugi. I'm paying for this."

Yugi laughed, and the relief was palpable. "Okay. I'll call everybody." He paused, looking like he was listening to something Seto couldn't hear, then he said: "Atem says thank you. He says he's spent a lot of time thinking about this final game, and he hopes you're ready for it."

". . . You're welcome," Seto said, distantly, unsure what was making him so soft about this. Whatever it was, though, it felt right.

Somehow.

Verse Five.

A second visitor came to Seto, later on in the day, without announcement or fanfare despite the fact that it should have been impossible: Bakari. He looked like he'd dressed that morning in Ryo Bakura's clothes, though now that he was his own being the outfit didn't suit him very well; he was both shorter and broader than his old host.

Hands stuffed into the pockets of faded denim jeans, Bakari looked like nothing so much as an embarrassed, disgruntled teenager.

In a way, Seto supposed he was.

"Bakari," he said, quietly, waiting for his new companion to speak.

". . . Kaiba," said Bakari. He cleared his throat. "I am, uh . . . staying with my lord."

Seto knew that Bakari called Ryo Bakura my lord in what was meant to be mockery . . . at least, it had been at first. Now, it just seemed like a habit he didn't know how to break. Seto waited for the boy to continue. It took much longer than he anticipated it would.

"He told me . . . he got a call today," Bakari eventually went on. "He says Yugi Mutou invited him, and me, on a trip to witness the last game between you and the king. He said you suggested that the game take place . . . in Kul Elna."

"I did," Seto said.

Bakari looked up at Seto with an expression that ping-ponged between grief and anger. "Why?"

Seto drew in a deep breath.

He said, eventually: "It's not right for Kul Elna to be forgotten. Yes, yes, I know." He held up a hand. "I told your people that they deserved to be forgotten for how they treated you. Don't you know? I run a business. I lie for a living. The point is, they are a part of this. They are integral to it. This all started at Kul Elna, and it should end there."

"Do you think it will end?" Bakari asked. "The king tried to put the Items to sleep. Is that what you intend to do?"

"No," Seto said. "I do not. I think it's equally important that the people sacrificed to these artifacts have a chance to be part of the world again, in a way that they can influence. I think their legacy deserves the chance to be remembered fondly, in the brightness of the day. Putting them to sleep now will only ever shut the door forever." He paused. "If the sheer levels of anxious energy I've been dealing with for the past week has been any indication, your people are itching to make their mark on history, themselves."

Bakari looked down at the ground for a moment, then back up at Seto.

"Do you think . . . that there is space for me in this future you will forge for them?"

Seto ran a hand through his hair.

Held it out.

"If you want space," he said, "you'll have it."

Bakari took the offered hand carefully.

He looked like he was holding back tears.

END.