For those who have favorited/followed my story, special shout-out to you! Thank you so much for your support!
I would love to hear (through a review) what you like about the story so far and why you favorited/followed it in the first place...just so I can understand why people enjoy this work-what makes you guys want to keep reading chapter after chapter! So, please...if you'd be so kind, please do me a favor and let me know your thoughts!
Quick author's note-this is the last chapter without any Yu-Gi-Oh! characters being directly involved. Next chapter, Morro will meet Yami (short for Yami Yugi) in person! YAY! So buckle up-this is gonna be one crazy ride!
Day 3
The mist curled faintly around them, cool and unyielding as Zeph sat down beside Morro, who was slumped against the moss-covered ground, his sage-and-emerald-green eyes staring blankly at the distance. Morro hadn't said a word in hours, his stillness unsettling and heavy, and Zeph knew he couldn't let the silence continue—not when it was eating away at the younger teen like a relentless storm.
With deliberate care, Zeph reached out and wrapped an arm gently around Morro's trembling shoulders, the motion steady and grounding. Morro stiffened faintly at the touch but didn't pull away, his exhaustion too deep to summon any resistance. Zeph's stormy-green gaze softened as he leaned closer, his voice low and calm.
"Hey," he murmured, his tone gentle but firm, like the steady hum of distant thunder. "I need you to talk to me, kid. What's going on in that mind of yours?"
For a moment, Morro didn't respond, his gaze distant, unfocused, as though Zeph's words hadn't reached him. His fingers twitched faintly against his knees, his breathing shallow and uneven. But slowly, painfully, he turned his head to glance at Zeph, his sage-and-emerald-green eyes brimming with raw emotion—confusion, hurt, anger, and something deeper, darker.
"I... I don't know how to stop it," Morro muttered at last, his voice cracking. "It's like everything's... broken. The world, my head, my... my heart. I don't understand any of it. Why Wu would do it, why he'd let it happen. Why I ended up here. Why the Merge even exists." He paused, his voice dropping to a trembling whisper. "Why I can't feel whole anymore."
Zeph's grip on Morro's shoulders tightened slightly, his stormy energy steady but resonating with quiet intensity. "Morro," he said softly, his voice calm but layered with care, "you don't have to figure it all out right now. No one expects you to understand everything—not this pain, not the Merge, not what happened with Wu. You've been through a living nightmare, and you're still standing. That's enough for now."
Morro's gaze wavered, his breathing catching faintly as tears began to pool in his eyes. He blinked quickly, as though trying to stop them, but it was clear he didn't have the strength to keep them at bay.
Zeph pulled him closer, his embrace firm but comforting, his presence grounding Morro in the midst of his emotional storm. "You're not alone in this," Zeph continued quietly. "You've got us, kid. Whatever's eating at you, we'll figure it out together. Piece by piece."
Morro's trembling intensified, his exhaustion bleeding through every movement, but for the first time in days, the faintest spark of life flickered in his sage-and-emerald-green eyes. The words hadn't fixed the pain—no words could—but Zeph's steady presence gave him something to hold onto, even as the mist closed tightly around them.
Morro's weight pressed faintly against Zeph's arm, his exhausted frame leaning heavily as he muttered the words, his sage-and-emerald-green eyes dim and uncertain. The question hung in the air, raw and fractured, his voice trembling with a quiet pain that spoke louder than the syllables themselves.
"Why would Wu... why would he... let me be banished like that?" Morro asked, his tone wavering, barely above a whisper. "To 'protect' me? Protect me from what? What did he think he was saving me from?"
Zeph's gaze softened, his stormy green energy flickering faintly as he tightened his hold on Morro's shoulders. He didn't respond right away, his own expression threaded with thoughtfulness and sorrow. Morro's question wasn't something Zeph could answer—not fully—but he understood the weight of it, the torment it carried.
"I don't know, kid," Zeph finally murmured, his voice steady but tinged with quiet regret. "Maybe he thought he was doing the right thing. Maybe he really thought Garmadon could protect you—before the darkness in him took over. Or maybe Wu just... didn't know what else to do. He's not perfect, Morro. He never was."
Morro let out a shaky breath, his shoulders slumping further as he absorbed Zeph's words. "But he could've stopped it," Morro whispered, his tone brittle. "He didn't have to send Garmadon. He didn't have to risk... everything. He could've done something else—anything else. But he chose that."
Zeph shifted slightly, his stormy presence calm but grounding as he rested a hand against Morro's arm. "Sometimes people make decisions they think are right, even when they're not," he said softly. "It doesn't make it okay. It doesn't make it hurt less. But it happens."
Morro's gaze flickered faintly, his sage-and-emerald-green eyes shimmering with unshed tears. "I don't know if I can forgive him for this," Morro muttered, his voice almost inaudible. "I don't know if I even want to."
Zeph leaned closer, his presence steady but quiet. "You don't have to figure that out right now," he said gently. "Take your time, Morro. Feel what you need to feel. And when you're ready, we'll face this together. One piece at a time."
Morro didn't respond, his breathing uneven but slowing, his frame still trembling faintly. But as Zeph held him close, grounding him in the silence, there was the smallest flicker of something else—a fragile spark, buried deep within the storm.
Determined to keep going, Zeph tightened his arm around Morro's shoulders, his stormy-green gaze steady as he spoke softly, his voice layered with understanding. "Morro, even Alternates—they're not perfect. None of them. Not even the ones who seem like they have all the answers."
Morro glanced at him faintly, his sage-and-emerald-green eyes dull but curious. He didn't respond, but Zeph could see the flicker of recognition, the slight shift that meant Morro was listening.
"There's one Alternate I know of—Yami, from Yugi's world," Zeph continued, his tone calm but deliberate. "Yami was the spirit of the Millennium Puzzle. Strong, wise, brilliant in battle—he had this aura about him like he could overcome anything. But there was one time when even he made a mistake—a huge mistake. He used a card called the Seal of Orichalcos during a duel. Powerful card—gave the monsters he played five times their original strength. But the Seal demanded a price—his core, his soul."
Zeph paused, his stormy energy rippling faintly with the weight of the memory. "Yugi told him not to use it—warned him it was too dangerous, too risky. But Yami ignored him. He was desperate to win, desperate to protect what mattered, and he thought the power was worth the price. He almost lost his soul because of it." Zeph hesitated briefly, his gaze softening as he looked at Morro. "But Yugi... Yugi stepped in. He took Yami's place. He sacrificed his own core, his own soul, to save Yami from the price of that decision."
Morro blinked slowly, his sage-and-emerald-green eyes shimmering faintly as he absorbed Zeph's words. His breathing hitched slightly, his expression a mix of confusion and thoughtfulness. "Yugi saved him," Morro muttered softly, his voice barely audible. "Even after Yami... even after he ignored the warnings."
Zeph nodded faintly, his grip on Morro's shoulders steady. "Yami wasn't perfect, Morro. He made mistakes. And those mistakes had consequences—ones that hurt the people he cared about. But even then, Yugi saw past it. He didn't expect perfection from Yami, because he understood something important: strength doesn't come from being flawless. It comes from facing your flaws—and learning from them."
Zeph leaned closer, his voice quieter now but steady. "Wu wasn't perfect either, Morro. You've seen that now, and I know it hurts. I know it feels like the world's come apart because of it. But you're not alone in this. You've got us to help you face this—and to remind you that perfection doesn't define worth."
Hearing this, Morro's sage-and-emerald-green eyes fluttered open briefly, just enough to meet Zeph's steady, stormy gaze. His voice was quiet, trembling under the weight of his emotions. "Did Yugi come back?" he murmured, his tone fragile but threaded with hope. "Did Yami get his Protector back?"
Zeph paused for a moment, his expression softening as he searched for the right words. His arm tightened faintly around Morro's shoulders, a gesture of quiet reassurance, before he whispered the answer with deliberate tenderness. "Yes," he said simply, his voice steady and calm. "Yugi came back. Yami got his Protector back."
The words settled over Morro like the faintest balm, soothing some small fraction of the ache that had wrapped around his heart. His breathing slowed, his trembling easing as his exhaustion caught up with him once again. His sage-and-emerald-green eyes softened, glistening faintly as the corners of his lips curled into a sad, wistful smile. It wasn't joy—not yet—but it was something. A fragile spark of hope buried amidst the storm.
Slowly, Morro drifted back into sleep, his weight leaning heavily against Zeph's steady frame. The mist around them curled tighter, its oppressive edge softening as the quiet settled over the group. Zeph stayed close, his stormy-green gaze flickering faintly as he watched over Morro, his own thoughts heavy yet steady. Whatever came next, he knew they'd face it together.
As Zeph held Morro close, his stormy-green gaze lingered on the sleeping figure in his arms. Morro's breathing had steadied, the exhaustion finally pulling him into a fragile but quiet slumber. Yet for Zeph, sleep was far away, his thoughts heavy as they churned within him.
He couldn't help but think about what he hadn't told Morro—the full weight of Yami's mistake. To bring Yugi back, Yami hadn't just faced the wrath of the Seal of Orichalcos. He had battled Yugi himself in a duel, forced to confront the very bond that had held them together through countless trials. Each move, each strike, was laced with heartache as Yami fought not just for victory but for redemption.
But that wasn't all. Yami's path was lined with sacrifice. Before he reached the end of that battle, he faced three duels where, one by one, his allies succumbed to the Seal's power. The strength they'd given him—the trust they'd placed in him—was ultimately turned against them. Their cores fell, each one a painful reminder of what was at stake and the price of the choices Yami had made.
Zeph's grip on Morro tightened slightly, his stormy-green energy rippling faintly as he exhaled. That mistake—sacrificing the safety of those who depended on him for his own gain—was something he couldn't forget. It wasn't just about the battle. It was about the cost. The pain Yami carried afterward was something that had lingered, a burden heavy enough to alter him forever.
Looking down at Morro, Zeph felt an ache rise in his chest. Morro was younger, vulnerable in ways he'd never admit, and carrying more weight than anyone should have to bear. Zeph had watched him grow, falter, and rise again, but now—now, Morro was breaking. And Zeph knew with unwavering certainty that he would not make Yami's mistake. He would never sacrifice Morro's safety, not for victory, not for gain, not for anything. Even if it meant losing the battle entirely, Zeph would stand by Morro's side, protecting him at all costs.
With quiet determination, Zeph made a silent promise to himself—a vow etched deeply into his core. Morro's safety comes first. Always. No power, no battle, no victory is worth risking the one who trusts me most.
The mist swirled around them, gentle but cool, as Zeph held Morro closer, rocking him faintly as he slept. The storm in Zeph's heart calmed, replaced by a quiet resolve that strengthened him in the stillness. Whatever lay ahead, Zeph knew one thing for certain: Morro would not face it alone.
Let me know your thoughts (in a review)!