Thus begins the final chapter.

… Not literally. There's nine more after this one.

But I mean, like … metaphorically.

Anyway. Uh.

You get it. Right?

.

It was like talking about Joey summoned him from the ether; a phone rang in a far corner of the room. Isono stepped over and plucked the handset from its cradle. "Kaiba Manor," he said, curtly, "this is Isono Tsukuda speaking. How can I help you?"

Noa, Seto, and Isis could all hear Joey Wheeler on the other end of the line.

"Hey, uh, this is Joey Wheeler. You're Seto's bodyguard, yeah?"

"That's correct," said Isono. "What can I do for you, Joey?"

"I need Mister or Missus Kaiba to get down here to St. Claire's," Joey said, quickly, curtly, like he was choosing his words with supreme care; he was practically whispering, and it seemed like he was doing his best to not be noticed. "You know, the hospital? Now. We got a situation."

"Understood," Isono said. "Hold tight."

He hung up the phone.

"I wonder what that was about," Noa mused, already using his cane to pull himself up from his chair. "We should go find Hahaue. Chichiue is probably busy with security or something." He turned to his brother. "Joey sounded . . . scared, didn't he?"

Seto nodded. "He did."

Isis's brow furrowed. "Joey Wheeler is destined to carry Hermos," she said. "They know it, as well as I."

"Paradius?" Noa asked; Isis nodded. "You think they're targeting him?"

Isis nodded. "I'm quite sure of it."

Isono headed for the door leading out into the hallway. "Come on, kids," he said, "we'd best go find the mistress."

Seto held out a hand in Mokuba's direction; the young Kaiba immediately hopped up from his drawing pad and took hold of the offered hand. He didn't ask questions; he didn't need to. If Niisama said it was time to go somewhere, then it was time to go somewhere.

.

The Kaiba family, alongside Gozaburo's prime security team, made a thoroughly unsettling retinue as they drove across Domino City to the same hospital where, not so long ago, Noa had fought for his life. The team didn't need instructions; they knew what they were here to do, and where they needed to go. So it was that seven men and five women, all dressed in black, filed out of their vehicles like the ocean as the tide came in.

Gozaburo and Amaya left the town car first, followed by the children; Isono and Fuguta took up the rear. They didn't speak, they didn't question; they knew better than to waste time with words when action was required.

Nobody bothered to check in at the front desk, and none of the receptionists seemed inclined to stop them. The Kaibas were a force of nature, and it was rare that anyone wanted to stand in their way, especially for something as trivial as standard protocol. Nobody wanted to risk Gozaburo's ire for the chance to deface his coat with a little sticker bearing the date. No one had weapons drawn, but that didn't seem to matter; everyone gave them a wide berth and let them pass.

The Kaibas exuded raw threat with every step, chilling the spines of everyone who caught their attention. Gozaburo and Amaya were, as ever, a devastating combination. It was a wonder to watch them at work, and Isono shot a glance at Fuguta as they marched; the two men smirked at each other.

They were only here for the ceremony of it all.

Once a threat was uncovered, the master and mistress would be more than enough.

It was on the third floor that they found what they were after: an altercation in the hallway. Jackson Wheeler was openly shouting at someone who looked—at a glance—like they'd come with the rest of the Kaibas' team. The man bore all the trappings of an operative working for the family. If not for the simple fact that Gozaburo and Amaya were encyclopedic about their knowledge of the men and women who worked under them—one might even call them obsessive—the ruse might have worked.

". . . sorry to deliver this news. I know it isn't what you wanted to hear. But I'm going to have to ask you to calm yourself, sir. There are ways that we can assist you in making the necessary payments. I think it would be best for everyone if we explore those, don't you?"

"Best for everyone?!" Jackson howled. "My little girl is already prepped for surgery! What the holy fuck do you expect me to do?! Pull five large out of my boots?! Isn't what I wanted to hear! You goddamn snake!"

Veronica Wheeler was holding her son's shoulders, partly to comfort him, partly to keep him from egging his father on and starting a fistfight in a hospital. Normally, she would have been doing her best to calm her husband; judging by the grim set of her face today, Veronica had no intention of doing any such thing.

Joey saw Gozaburo and Amaya striding down the hallway, followed closely by his friends, and a beaming grin spread on his face.

The false operative turned; no one but the Kaibas would have seen the surprise cross the man's face before he was able to school it into neutrality. He opened his mouth to speak, then squeaked as Gozaburo reached out, gripped the man's jacket, and pulled him close.

"You have five seconds to explain to me why you're wearing my peoples' uniform," Gozaburo growled.

.

Fuguta moved before anyone had a chance to work out what was happening. Just as the pretender reached down to his belt to pull a weapon, he grunted as an iron grip found his wrist and a blade was pushed up against his kidney.

"You don't want to do that, friend," Fuguta whispered, as Isono drew his sidearm and stepped around to get a clean shot—if necessary—over his partner's shoulder. "There are ways to resolve this peacefully, and I think it might be best if we explore those. Don't you?"

Gozaburo glanced at Fuguta and gave an almost-imperceptible little nod.

"The boy calling the shots for you," Amaya said flatly, "has already failed three times now. Do you seriously believe this to be worth your life? If so, I'm sure these gentlemen would be more than happy to let you prove it. If you don't, I might suggest you find somewhere else to spend the day. Perhaps . . . Nevada, or Oregon . . . or Sweden."

The Wheelers were all gawping at the scene in front of them. Jackson slid up in front of his wife and son, holding his arms out to protect them, watching with eyes as fierce as they were fevered. He looked like he wanted to speak, like he wanted more than anything to ask what the fuck was going on, but something kept him from finding his voice.

Veronica looked horrified.

Joey hadn't yet managed to banish the smile from his face.

When a nurse came up a moment later, holding a clipboard, the pretender didn't speak.

Fuguta removed his knife, Gozaburo dropped the man's coat, and they stood in silence.

Isono, for his part, looked like he was waiting for a restroom to open up; both hands were in the pockets of his slacks, and his eyes were trained . . . somewhere. It was, as always, impossible to tell what he was watching.

"Ah, excuse me," the nurse said, "we need to know how to proceed."

"Proceed as planned," Gozaburo said. "Jackson Wheeler is a contractor for my company. His insurance is in good standing and will cover the costs of this procedure. If there are any complications, I will see to them personally."

The nurse nodded. "Yes, sir, Mister Kaiba, sir. If you could sign right here, please?"

Gozaburo took the clipboard and a pen.

Amaya turned to the Wheelers. "A thousand pardons for this . . . interruption," she said. "It seems we have been having trouble with crossed wires, so to speak. We figured it would be best to handle this in person. Excuse me, but what is your daughter's name?"

"Serenity," said Veronica.

"She's only seven," Jackson said.

"Serenity will be just fine," Amaya said, putting one hand on Veronica's shoulder and the other on Jackson's arm. "We'll see to everything she needs. You won't have to worry one bit about anything, all right?"

". . . Thank you, Missus Kaiba," Veronica murmured.

"You are most welcome, my dear."

Seto stepped up next to Joey. "Sorry," he whispered.

"Sorry?" Joey looked flabbergasted. "That was the coolest thing that's ever happened! This is the best day of my life!"