If it isn't clear by now, I'm not the biggest fan of Dartz.

I find him … insufficient.

.

"Shadi said I should seek out allies among my allies," Noa murmured thoughtfully, "both creatures and people. He said that was how we could win. Do you think this is what he was talking about?" He looked up and tilted his head. "I think Aleister definitely counts as among my enemies, right? He tried to have me killed."

Isis kept her face neutral; what did it say, she wondered, that a boy this young could be so cavalier about an assassination attempt? She said: "I would argue that Lord Dartz is to blame for that, more than anyone. But . . . Aleister has been acting in his name. So, I do think I agree with you, yes."

Noa nodded. "Can you see what's gonna happen?" he asked. "If we help him out, I mean. Does your necklace let you do that? Or is it only other worlds you can see?"

"I have never been able to glimpse my own future," Isis said. "I have only ever managed to make . . . educated guesses. More educated than most, granted, since there are many, many rivers of time which converge on events which match with ours."

"Have there been other worlds like this one, where we help him? Where he turns against Paradius?"

Isis shook her head. "No," she said confidently. "I have found that your family is . . . Kryptonite, if you like, against my ability to predict anything. You, and your brothers, and apparently your parents as well, always manage to surprise me. Always."

Noa thought about this for a moment, then grinned. "I think I like that," he said.

"Yes, yes." Isis nodded helplessly. "I imagine you would."

Noa rubbed his chin. "Hm. So, there's no telling what's gonna happen if we convince Aleister to leave his cult. I guess that's no different from anything else we do. I mean, Seto reached out to Joey without knowing the future, and look how that turned out." He swept his cane out in a wide arc in front of him, like he was holding a sword. "Hermos turned all those monsters into charcoal."

Isis smiled. "True," she said. "This is quite true."

"I think I'll go along with whatever Seto decides is a good idea," Noa said eventually. "He knows what he's doing. I think I might have him beat on stuff like technology, or math. Definitely history. But he understands people better than I do."

"Just you wait," Isis said cryptically, "for Mokuba to grow up a bit."

Noa blinked, surprised. "What do you mean?" he asked.

"Trust me," Isis said. "If you're impressed by Seto's people skills, you will be thunderstruck by Mokuba's."

Noa considered this, then grinned again.

"That sounds like fun. I can't wait."

.

Travis Copeland watched as a boy who'd tried to murder them all wandered about the back gardens of the Kaiba Estate, looking as confused and contemplative as a time traveler. "You don't look like you have any idea what to do with yourself," he said.

Aleister turned. "I . . . don't think I do," he admitted. "I am . . . evaluating. I've dreamed about how things would unfold, once I finally got the chance to confront the Kaibas, and so far . . . precisely nothing has gone according to any plan I've ever come up with. He told me they were all monsters, that even the boy he wanted me to get rid of was a carbon copy of his father, just as arrogant and ruthless as any dictator."

"And now that you've met Noa . . ."

"He's. He's just a boy, like me. He doesn't even seem upset that I . . . that I . . ."

"Tried to have him assassinated by his own godfather."

". . . Yes."

Travis shrugged. "The Kaiba family is unlike a great number of families. Even wealthy ones. I've met plenty of rich pricks in my time. One thing that's almost universal among people like that is that they hate driving themselves anywhere, so I've always had steady work. One thing I can say about this bunch with absolute confidence is this: they're honest. They don't hide behind social niceties."

Aleister opened his mouth to say something.

"Don't get me wrong," Travis said, holding up a hand, "Mister Kaiba is as gifted a liar as I've ever met. But there's an essence that he doesn't even try to hide. He wants people to know it's there. He wants people to know the core tenets of his character, even when he lies through his teeth. As for the lady Kaiba . . . well. She can barely keep a surprise party under wraps."

". . . I've never been to a party," Aleister admitted.

Travis smiled sadly. "I can't say I'm surprised to hear that."

Aleister crossed his arms over his chest and eyed Travis suspiciously. "He said he wanted to teach me. To train me. I told him I wanted to be able to kill him one day, and he said I should stay here if I wanted to learn. He said I don't scare him. He said he doesn't care."

Travis started nodding along almost instantly. "That sounds precisely like what Mister Kaiba would say."

"It's a trick, isn't it?"

Travis shook his head. "No," he said. "No, it really isn't. That's what I mean when I say he's honest. Mister Kaiba likes having people around who keep him sharp. I think if you stuck around, and regularly made attempts on his life, he'd be thrilled. The closer you get to taking him out, the more he'll like you. Send him to the hospital and he'll write you into his will."

"That's . . . ridiculous."

"Absolutely," Travis agreed. "The man is nothing if not . . . confoundingly dramatic. He tries to hide it, and most of the time in public, he manages it just fine. But get him in his castle, and he turns into every gothic romance protagonist. I think he'd build an office in a cemetery if he got all the paperwork with the city worked out."

Aleister's eyes narrowed to slits. "You're trying to humanize him. Make me like him."

Travis shook his head again. "I don't need to humanize him. He's already human. I don't think you need to forgive him. Whether he hurt you directly or not, most of his career has been in the industry of arms. I'm not going to pretend you don't have valid grievances. Forgive him or don't. Like him or don't. I don't care, and he doesn't either. My point is: Gozaburo Kaiba isn't a monster, and he isn't a saint. He's just a man. So is your Lord Dartz. They're just men, and that's all they'll ever be."

"What do you know of Lord Dartz?" Aleister snapped, on instinct.

Travis quirked an eyebrow. "I know he dressed down a child for not being a good enough murderer." He shrugged. "I don't think I need to know much more than that to decide he's a small, small man."

"It's not . . . that's not . . ."

"I'm sure there's more to it," Travis said, not unkindly, "but that's what it looks like from the outside."

Aleister opened his mouth to argue more.

To defend his father's honor.

He found that he couldn't.