AUTHOR'S NOTE
Always thought that something was weird with the fact priest Seto was in the afterlife..
After the story hammered into our heads that Kaiba is Seto's reincarnation.
You can't reincarnate and still be dead.
Doesn't work that way.
So thus, my little reinterpretation of the ending of YGO: Duel Monsters.
Enjoy
The stone slab loomed before him, each of the Millennium Items firmly slotted into place. Their golden glow filled the chamber, a soft hum resonating through the air like a final heartbeat of ancient magic. The light was warm and inviting, yet it carried an undertone of finality.
Atem stood at the threshold of destiny, his chest tight with emotion as he faced the ultimate trial. The door to the afterlife—his supposed reward for centuries of wandering—beckoned with a deceptive calm. All that stood between him and the eternal peace of Aaru was a single act: to declare his name, the truth they had fought so hard to uncover.
Behind him, his friends stood in silence, their expressions torn between pride and sorrow. Their bond, forged in countless battles, now faced its most painful test.
Yugi's Duel Disk sat forgotten on the floor, his small hands clenched at his sides. He had won the ceremonial duel, proving he was ready to stand on his own and take on Atem's legacy as the new King of Games. But it didn't feel like victory. His best and closest friend—no, his other self—was about to leave forever. Tears streamed freely down Yugi's face as he sobbed, his shoulders trembling. Atem had fought beside him, guided him, given him the strength to stand tall. And now, Atem was going.
Gone. Just like that.
Atem turned, his gaze softening as he knelt before Yugi. Crimson eyes that once burned with ancient power now carried only pride and quiet melancholy. "You've grown so much," Atem said, his voice steady. "A champion shouldn't be on his knees."
Yugi looked up, his vision blurred by tears. "I don't want you to go," he said, his voice cracking. "After all we went through... just so I can lose you?"
Atem rested a hand on Yugi's shoulder, his touch steady and grounding. "You won't lose me," he said, his tone gentle. "I'll always be with you, in your heart."
But they both knew the truth. Yugi's heart might carry Atem's memory, but it could never fill the void his departure would leave. Some wounds never truly healed, and this one would leave scars on them both.
With slow, deliberate movements, Atem rose to his feet. His gaze lingered on Yugi for a moment longer, a faint smile playing on his lips. Then, he turned and walked toward the great doors. His voice, clear and resonant, echoed through the chamber as he declared his name.
The doors opened with a resounding boom, blinding golden light spilling forth. Atem stepped into it, his form swallowed by the radiance as the doors closed behind him. The light dimmed, and the chamber fell silent.
Atem was gone.
When the light faded, Atem slowly opened his eyes. But the golden fields of Aaru were nowhere to be found.
Instead, he stood in darkness—cold, oppressive, and familiar. The stone walls of the Millennium Puzzle rose around him, their maze-like corridors stretching endlessly into shadow. This was his soul room, the sanctuary of his mind. Or perhaps his prison.
Atem's footsteps echoed as he walked forward, his face calm but his thoughts a storm of contradictions. He did not need to search for an exit; there would be none. Even if there was, it would only lead to an infinite void, the space where Yugi's soul room had once been.
He paused, brushing his fingers against the ancient stone walls. The cold seeped into his skin, grounding him in the reality he had crafted.
"It was all an illusion," Atem murmured to himself. "The door to Aaru, the radiant light... even the calm I felt for that fleeting moment. All of it—my own shadow magic."
His voice was hollow, heavy with the weight of his decision. He had cast the spell himself, using the last vestiges of the Puzzle's power to weave a lie. A beautiful, perfect lie.
"They deserve peace," he said, his voice trembling slightly. "They deserve to believe I've found my rest."
The truth was far darker. Atem had long accepted that Aaru would never open its gates for him. Not after the sins he had committed, both as Pharaoh and as the spirit of the Puzzle. Countless souls had been banished to shadow, minds shattered, lives extinguished in vengeance and rage. Even justice, he knew, could not tip the scales of Ma'at in his favor.
But Yugi and his friends didn't need to carry that burden. They had earned their peace—a future free from the curse of the Millennium Items and the dangers they attracted. Atem would not rob them of that.
The air grew colder as Atem ventured deeper into the Puzzle's labyrinth. He stopped as a shadow shifted ahead of him, a figure emerging from the darkness. The silhouette was sharp, its presence commanding, and its smirk unmistakable.
"You," Atem said, his voice neutral but wary.
The shadow leaned casually against a pillar, arms crossed. "So, you figured it out," it said, its tone laced with mockery. "The afterlife you imagined? Nothing more than a fantasy."
Atem's eyes narrowed, his expression hardening. The shadow laughed, the sound echoing unnaturally.
"Yes, try to intimidate us," the shadow sneered. "That worked so well for the last 3,000 years, didn't it?"
Atem didn't answer, but his silence didn't dissuade the shadow. It stepped closer, its form twisting with menace. "You've always clung to the idea that you were a hero, haven't you? That all the lives you destroyed were justified. But deep down, you know the truth. Using our powers doomed you. Just like your father, the old fool."
Images of long forgotten enemies appeared before Atem's eyes. Their terrified expressions, growing empty and listless as their mind was shattered. People who burned to a crisp. Or exploded in a ferry wheel's wagon.
"I don't deny my sins," Atem said evenly. "I will face them. Alone."
The shadow scoffed. "And what will you do in this prison you've built for yourself? Wander these halls for eternity, clinging to scraps of a life you left behind?"
"I've made my choice," Atem said firmly.
"Ahh, choice. You never had one. You always just followed that 'destiny' you were so fond of. That Yugi finding the puzzle? Destiny. You finding your name? Fate. None of this was your doing. And even your 'sacrifice' was just a scared dog running from a crocodile", the shadow cackled.
"Think what you want. 3000 years of nobody solving the puzzle is no coincidence..", Atem growled.
"We made sure nobody could until you *begged* us to let that boy solve it", the highly amused shadow shot back, flowing around the spirit, surrounding him like black fog.
"And.. I am very grateful you did", Atem said softly.
"In the end, you've become reasonable", the shadow laughed. "Welcome back, pharaoh"
Back in the material world, Yugi stood frozen, staring at the empty space where Atem had disappeared. The others began to move, their voices soft and solemn, but Yugi remained behind. Something didn't feel right.
Téa touched his arm gently. "Yugi," she said, her voice trembling, "he's at peace now. He found his rest."
Yugi nodded slowly, but the doubt gnawed at the edges of his mind. He had thought he'd feel... something. Some sense of closure, some warmth, some change. Instead, he felt a hollow ache, a gaping emptiness where Atem's presence had been. It didn't feel like an ending—it felt like absence; no different than the other few times where he had not worn the puzzle. He even thought he heard Atem call his name, dull and soft and almost static like a bad connection; but this couldn't be.
Yeah, he likely was reaching the first stage of grief or something.
He shook the thought away, unwilling to tarnish the memory of their parting.
Shaking his head, Yugi turned and followed his friends out of the temple. Behind him, the Tablet of Memories crumbled, the Millennium Items falling into the abyss below. The faint whisper faded with it, leaving only silence.
Far away, Seto Kaiba stood on the observation deck of his airship. The Duel Disk on his arm hummed faintly, its holographic display projecting the Egyptian God Cards. His gaze was fixed on the horizon, his mind restless.
"Ridiculous," Kaiba muttered to himself. "I'm getting as delusional as the scooby gang."
He'd been against them going to egypt to put the pharaoh to rest. Not just because he had wanted to settle the score between them, but because that whole deal with the afterlife sounded no more believable than magic, spirits, ghosts and destiny. Laughable.
Yet, as the wind swept through the deck, carrying with it a faint whisper of ancient magic, Kaiba frowned.
Somewhere deep within him, a flicker of something stirred—a presence he couldn't explain.
Kaiba hated the feeling.
It was too much like hope.