"We still have a mission to complete."

"Mission?"

"How quickly we forget! Allow me to remind you. Does the term Millennium Item sound familiar? Well, you promised to help me obtain all seven, and at the moment, we only have one."

You wouldn't remember making that promise, would you, host? Typical. Your memory is pitiful enough as-is.

Perhaps it was when we were both cast into the Shadow Realm alongside Marik. You may not want to remember the shadows snatching at your soul, how painful it is for mere mortals to wander there. But what you might want to remember would be a whispered, hushed promise. You'd help me to get yourself out of there-you'd do anything so long as the pain would cease.

Not ringing any bells? Perhaps it was when you first put on the Ring, back when you had no idea what a Millennium Item even was. You'd heard from your father it could grant wishes, and what wish could you possibly want more than collecting seven magical trinkets to see your dear mother and sister again? (If you asked nicely I might have even brought them back-Pegasus was on the right track after all.) And then your new friends had to go and ruin everything, didn't they?

Ah, you'd say you'd remember that for sure? My sincerest apologies.

Perhaps you made that promise in a moment of weakness, half in, half out of consciousness through the haze of Battle City. Marik and I both had you under our thrall, and with the pain in your arm you may have said things then that you'd regret later. We all make mistakes, dear host, though I can say that was one of your finer moments.

...Still nothing?

Heh.

Perhaps you made that promise.

Perhaps you never made it at all.

But you'll never know, will you?

And unlike thieves, Ryou, you tend to keep your promises. So move your feet out of this church, fetch me that Ring, and do as I say. I'll even let you build one of those games you liked so much, back when you liked games.

You'll listen.

You will.

After all, you promised.