Prologue

Seto finally sat down at twilight, leaning against the rocky outcropping close to where the tree line began, and looked out to the incoming storm clouds beginning to block out the sun. The evening chill settled over the island, and Wheeler moved from group to group starting their fires. Ryou had kept their own kindled throughout the day, despite the humidity, and if one too many people hadn't been sitting around it, Seto might have gone to it.

He picked at a broken blister on his palm, eyes closed to try convincing himself the wind was still warm. Only the frame of their shelter, which Mokuba insisted on calling a house, had been completed, and the rest was a patchwork of tarp. It wouldn't keep out the wind and the rain.

Nothing ever kept out the rain, and the cold permeated everything after nightfall. Their jackets were all supposedly windbreakers and water resistant, but they were useless. They were as useless as everything else out here, as all their efforts that would turn out for nothing.

This was a death sentence. For such a large island to be uninhabited, it couldn't have been survivable. With days too hot and nights too cold, they wouldn't make it long.

For Mokuba's sake, he would keep trying.

Seth approached to sit beside Seto, arm to arm, wrists just barely grazing. Seto's energy had dwindled during the day, but he still wasn't ready to recharge.

"We got the tarp nailed back down."

"It'll be riddled with holes before anything is built."

"There are more."

"Then you bargain with him."

Seto's head throbbed with Seth's pressing thoughts, questioning Seto's past and how it affected his current views about the others imprisoned with them. But the more he dug into Seto's mind, the harder Seto pressed back, trying to form the wall Ryou had described, but Seto hadn't been able to replicate.

"I would if you only told me—"

"No."

Despite his exhaustion, Seto stood and dusted the sand off his pants. "I wasn't asking for your help."

He would handle Gozaburo on his own.

But before anything else, he had to finish preparing for the rain certain to hit within the hour. It was too dark to do much in the way of final preparations, but even adding a few more logs to the fire would help stave the cold. Soon, he would build a covering for it so the rain wouldn't put it out.

"Kaiba," Bakura called out, waving him over. "This side is pulling out."

Their fire and the dying sunlight wasn't enough to get a good look at it, and in all their superior judgment, the government hadn't thought to send them with flashlights, blankets, or anything they actually needed.

He knelt to feel for the nails keeping the tarp to the frame of their shelter, and finding it tight, moved on to the next one.

"You're supposed to be good at this," Bakura said.

"Do you recall me making a living from sticks and twigs?"

And on sand with hardly any useful supplies. To fight the weather, they might have to find a way to make bricks, or double the walls to add an insulating layer in between. But after so many days in, Seto couldn't fathom making it that long. If the elements didn't kill them, someone would. Maybe it would be Gozaburo, maybe the Ishtar spirit whose new name Seto could never remember, or maybe someone slightly less expected, but equally insane, like a Keith Howard or Crump.

"Grab another nail."

It might help if the winds were as strong as they had been the night before. He could double tack the tarp to the frame, but all that would do was add another hole that would rip like the rest of them.

"Actually, get the rope instead. And let me borrow your knife."

"Which one?"

Seto glared tiredly. "I don't give a shit."

He used the knife Bakura produced seemingly from nowhere to cut off a smaller section of rope—they didn't have much to spare—and thread that through one of the holes widened by a nail. Maybe the rope would give a better outcome.

If he had to add another maybe to his growing list, Seto wasn't sure what he would have to do. Even answering one of the questions would go a long way, and every answer seemed impossible to solve. After all, how would they solve anything without supplies?

Given any choice though, Seto would have chosen sleep. He would have been able to think more clearly after getting a full night, not the on and off spells he had been able to get in the crammed space they had managed to construct.

He waited for a breeze to make sure the middle of the tarp was staying in place, and confirming it was, stood.

"Where is Mokuba?"

"Ran off with the landlord somewhere."

"Where?"

Bakura closed his eyes a moment. "They're trying to bargain with Mako for a free dinner."

Seto wanted to have him call Mokuba back, but it would be simpler to go to him instead. They needed dinner, or they would be stuck with the limited supplies they had been sent. Taylor would get the garden going in time, if he could keep it growing with so much rain, they would have a better set of options. For now, it was fish or rice. Seto didn't know who ran off with all the dried beans.

"Stay here."

"Have the priest babysit the goods."

"As long as one of you does, I don't care who stays."

But after Gozaburo had ended up with half of the supplies they were sent with, someone had to watch what little they had.

He left before Bakura could put up more of an argument, but it rang in his thoughts as Seth picked it up. If he had known about their millennia-long feud, he wouldn't have agreed to partner with Bakura. He and Mokuba would have found a way to make it on their own.

Except the geek squad liked Ryou and were willing to share anything they had with him. Connections would likely be everything out here. Who knew what the rules would end up being once everyone had settled.

"Seto!" Mokuba called, waving him over to the fire outside what the geek squad had managed to put together, which was little more than a tarp too high off the ground. But the last Seto had checked, they were all cramming into the government-made shelter, the one Solomon was using to store their medical supplies.

Another sign they were sent here for death—thirty-eight people had been given shelter to accommodate twenty-five.

"It's getting dark," Seto said.

"Yeah, we're on our way," Mokuba said. "Just as soon as our newest friend Mako agrees to a trade."

"Not agreeing to one," Mako said, and propped his makeshift fishing rod against a nearby tree. "An open-ended trade won't work out here."

"And what would you accept in exchange?" Seto asked. Mako had lined up a hanging line with his catches, more than Seto had expected anyone to be able to bring in over the course of a day, with only a hand-carved hook and length of twine. It was enough for each of their groups to have two or more, which meant Mako couldn't eat them all himself, and he would have to take something as trade.

"My shelter's lookin—"

"Fire!"

They all turned at Tea's shriek and Seto spotted the column of smoke just before the tips of the flame. It was from the direction of the garden, inside the tree line.

If it wasn't stopped, everything would go with it.

"Get the bins, fill them with water now," Seto said, and sent word to Seth to have him send Bakura. "Mokuba, get everyone you can to help. Stay back."

"I want to help!"

"Get water."

Seto ran toward the fire.

Before: Part One

When they let Joey out of his cell—that they called a room, but double bunkbeds in a ten-foot space didn't really count—it was with his other roommates, Odion, Duke, and Mako, and they were escorted into an outdoor space, barbed wire fence surrounding them.

He recognized almost every face, some of which he hadn't thought he would see again, and some he didn't think possible.

He slid into a row of chairs, fold outs, all set up to face a rickety podium, and sat down beside Yugi.

"Hey there, Yug. Am I seeing double or…"

"No, but don't ask me to explain how he's here."

Joey leaned around Yugi to get a look at Yami, who he had only ever seen in duels and tournaments, and in Yugi's body. And now he had his own. Somehow.

"Hello, Joey," Yami said. "It's a pleasure to officially meet."

"And you're all, solid? And everything?"

He reached over to squeeze Yami's arm, eyes widening when he felt just as real as the rest of them. "How's it possible?" he asked, and gave him another squeeze. "I mean, you're all human."

"Perhaps one of the others has an answer," Yami said, and indicated for Joey to look at the crowd a bit more.

When he did, the others jumped out. Ryou stood beside his double, and the thief was arguing with Malik, who held up hands defensively as the thief shouted about the other Malik. And behind Ryou, a second set Joey never would have guessed.

"Kaiba?"

"I take it my cousin was trapped inside an item as well," Yami said. "However we were brought out, they found him."

Joey chuckled to himself and did what he could not to gawk at the Kaibas, standing back to back and pretending the other didn't exist. And Mokuba was standing just behind and between them, glancing side to side.

"Who's Kaiba arguing with?"

"You remember Gozaburo Kaiba," Yugi said. "From the virtual world."

"His dad?"

Yugi nodded, and Joey leaned forward, but couldn't hear what was being said over the roar of everyone's questions and building panic. The more people brought out, the more panicked Joey let himself get. What were they all doing there? While Joey could understand how he ended up being arrested, but Mokuba? Yugi? Seren—

"Ren? Ren!"

Joey jumped to his feet and ran across the concrete, pushing aside Ishizu and Espa to wrap her in his arms. "What are you doing here?"

"They broke into the apartment and arrested me. I didn't do anything, Joey. I didn't!"

"I know, Ren. You've never done anything. Somebody better be getting with some answers!" he shouted, but none of the armed guards so much as looked his way. "They're rounding us up. Must be getting some news soon."

He led Serenity back to his seat, and Yugi greeted her warmly, as if nothing was out of the ordinary, and aside from Serenity's discomfort, she did the same.

Their row filled in slowly, and soon, Joey caught on. Whoever had done this brought everyone. Every duelist who had ever been anyone was sitting around him, and then everyone tied to them. Although, he couldn't explain Rex and Weevil, but then again, who really could explain those two being everywhere.

Once every chair was full—a quick count showed thirty-eight people including himself—a man in a suit went up to the front. People demanded answers before he began to speak, and he waited out their angry shouts before starting his speech.

"You have all been brought here under charges leveled by every country within the United Nations. A unanimous vote has determined all of you involved in the magical destruction—"

"Magical destruction?" Bandit Keith asked, hand near his face like he wanted to be holding a cigarette. "I think you mean that one." He jabbed a thumb toward Yugi.

"Yug hasn't done nothing to cause destruction," Joey snapped. "You want to talk destruction, talk to him."

The spirit beside Ryou glared at him. "Look at whose heels you're constantly nipping at."

The man at the front let them argue to the point of standing and shouting, and only returned to his clearly rehearsed speech when they ran out of accusations to level against each other. He remained collected and his expression never shifted.

"All of you involved in the magical destruction across our countries will be sentenced to incarceration in a location where no harm can be created."

"And where is that?" Kaiba and Gozaburo asked at the same time.

"An island in an undisclosed location," the man said. "The specifics of which are classified. The island in uninhabited, twenty square miles, and currently going through its monsoon season. You will arrive in a week—"

"Where did you come across an island of such size in livable conditions that is uninhabited?" Kaiba asked.

"It was agreed upon by the United Nations," the man said, and nothing more of it. "You will be sent over with a set of supplies and houses already prepared. You will receive new installments every six months—"

Tea raised her hand and cut him off. "You are sending us all to one island?"

He didn't answer.

"They've tried to kill us," Joey said. "Half of them have."

Mokuba and Kaiba, two rows ahead, stared at each other. Their nerves, the likes of which Joey had never seen on Kaiba, echoed through the room. How couldn't it when they were going to be sent out with Pegasus, who threatened souls for personal gain? With Gozaburo and the five men who tried to take over their bodies? With Noa, who imprisoned them all for the sake of two? With Dartz and the men who had rode with him? With Bandit Keith? With Malik? With everyone who had ever done them harm?

"—every six months," the man continued, "And you will be provided with flares to be used only in the event of an emergency—"

"So you can claim innocence if one of us dies?" Pegasus asked, and half the crowd nodded along with him.

"So that we can get to you in a timely manner."

Kaiba leaned back in his seat, crossing his arms like he ran the place. "And how long will it take, exactly, for you to arrive after a flare has been fired?"

"Half an hour."

"You happened to have an island eighty miles out," Kaiba started, but Gozaburo cut in to finish, "But not a prison large enough?"

Kaiba glared toward him, but Gozaburo didn't look his way.

"All of the magical artifacts will be sent to the island with you," the man continued. "These golden items, the spirits trapped inside, and the cards accompanying you all, everything will be sent over."

"How's this relating to any of us?" Joey asked. "Not to point out the obvious or nothing, but I'm counting four spirits? Seven items? Not enough magic to do your math."

"Some of us have never seen these spirits before today," Kaiba added, and the double beside him seemed almost offended.

But as he had been all the while, the man patiently waited out their complaints and arguments to pick up where he left off. "You have all been found guilty of crimes against all nations of the world, and have been deemed a threat to civilization."

"So why not kill us?" Kaiba said, right as Pegasus exclaimed, "There are children here."

And to both comments, the man had no answer. It was Yami who spoke next, quietly, but with enough force to command the room. "It would come across as mass murder."

The thief snorted. "You're one to talk."

"And what's that supposed to mean?" Tea asked.

"It means you should consider whose side you're on."

"Aren't we all on the same side now?" Serenity whispered behind her hand.

"Fat chance," Joey muttered, and kept his eye on those in the group who had tried killing him a couple times. The two Maliks sitting beside each other, one leaning as far away from the other as he could, held his gaze especially. Those two would be trouble, and bringing that weapon with them?

He'd have to stick close to Yugi, or Yami. Were they still technically the same person?

It was another something to ask.

A few minutes later, and the arguing died down again. Joey couldn't imagine what more the man up front, who still hadn't given a name, could possibly have to say to them. They were being shipped out to fight to the death. But at least they'd be sent with their cards. Maybe they could settle a few duels before the rain reduced the cards to pulp.

"Why are you telling us this?" Mokuba asked, standing. "You've already had a trial to condemn me?"

"Yes."

Mokuba didn't sit or waver.

"If we're condemned, why do we have to listen to you?"

Joey wasn't the only who snickered.

"You're dismissed," the man said, but it was Mokuba who waved him out.

Ishizu and Odion pulled Malik away when the spirit came closer.

Was he a spirit? Malik wondered. Or was he his own soul ripped down the center? Was it fair to think of him as separate? Hadn't he created this man, this person, this being from his own hatred?

The laughter echoed in his thoughts and rang in his ears. He wanted to cover them, but knew it would do him no good. A different body did nothing to keep him out, and he couldn't keep far enough away.

"Don't run, little Malik."

"You will keep your distance," Ishizu said, a hand on Malik's arm guiding him back.

"No."

Malik heard it, even with the murmurs and conversations from the crowd trying to overshadow the voice in his mind. It pressed deeper and deeper, luring Malik to come closer even when he fought the call. But he was tired. Why was he so tired?

Because you need me.

"I don't!" Malik shouted, and heads around him turned.

You always need me.

"You're wrong."

Odion tightened his grip on Malik's arm and Ishizu took a step between them. "You will not go near him," she said.

"But he will come to me," the other said, and then smiled at Malik. "You refuse to call me by our name?"

"I refuse you," Malik said, but his breath hitched when the distance between them narrowed. "I refuse."

"You haven't realized," he said, that same wicked smirk plaguing them all. "But you will. You'll realize and you'll come crawling back. Before the day is done, you will come to me."

Malik shook his head over and over again. But there was no getting him out of his thoughts; the voice was everywhere and so familiar Malik never could have forgotten it.

"Denying me changes nothing," he said, both aloud and in Malik's mind. "I am you and you are me and we will spend our days together, Malik."

His name sounded wrong, despite coming from what was technically his own mouth. He pronounced it differently, and that itself was curious enough.

"Is that what you want to be called then? Mariku?"

"Calling me what you like, little light."

The constant labeling him as 'little' wore on Malik, and he didn't care what he wanted to be called. Malik, Mariku, it didn't change who he was. Giving him a different name wouldn't remove the connection battering Malik's mind.

Again, Ishizu demanded that Mariku leave, only this time, he did. There weren't many places he could go in the holding facility, and although they were sharing a room, Malik hoped he stayed long for the rest of the day.

"Are you all right?" Ishizu asked him.

"I'm tired," he said, and Odion grabbed a chair from the rows for him.

"Here. Sit."

Malik did, and put his head between his hands. Everything felt heavy, or maybe just that he was too weak to do more than hold himself up. With the weakness came a pull in the direction Mariku had left in, and Malik refused to accept the association.

"We will find a way to be rid of him again. The Pharaoh—"

Malik stared tiredly at Ishizu. "Can we not rely on him for just one thing?"

"He will have a solution to this."

"Why would he want one? He's got his own body too."

Malik gestured a hand toward the Pharaoh and Yugi, talking to each other face to face. All Malik had wanted for so long was to be separate from his darker half, and somehow, people completely unfamiliar with the situation managed it. He didn't know if he was meant to be frustrated by it or relieved. They had done it for him.

Mostly. Mariku's pull hadn't let up, and Malik could still hear fragments of his thoughts rumbling in his head. The laughter was the worst, like Mariku was only waiting for Malik to cave.

"I will ask the Pharaoh," Ishizu said, and headed his direction without giving Malik a chance to stop her. Odion stayed with him, but that was more of an issue. He wouldn't stop her going against Malik's wishes.

The headache mounted, to the point Malik didn't have the energy to leave before Yami came back with Ishizu.

"Where is he?" Yami demanded.

Malik looked at Yami through parted fingers, the pressure on his temples doing too little to ease the pain and the laughter.

"He left."

"Where?"

"Find him yourself."

"Malik," Ishizu said sharply. "He can help you with this."

"I don't want his help," Malik said. "I don't need his help."

If he hadn't been so exhausted, Malik would have stormed off. But what if the prison had assigned Mariku to the same room? What would happen when they ended up on an island with nowhere to go and no one to run interference?

What if Malik could never be rid of him?

"I will take care of him," Yami said. "Regardless."

He left, Yugi following behind, and even with him gone, the buzz of the room filled his ears and set his thoughts ringing even louder. Everyone was arguing with someone across the lot. He couldn't find a way to tune it out, Mariku's voice louder than the rest.

You know what you have to do.

Malik covered his ears, but it did nothing to stop Mariku's voice from getting through.

Come to me, Malik.

And while Malik hated it, the hate was overlaced with exhaustion. He hated that he understood what he needed to do, and that he was too weak to stop himself from getting up and following in the direction Mariku had gone in.

He hated that the closer he got, the less tired he became.

When they stood face to face, back in the room assigned to Malik, there was no doubt what had to be done.

"I won't bite," Mariku said, and offered his hand.

Even knowing it was a lie, Malik took it. And the moment their hands touched, the exhaustion began to drain out of him.

They were still connected, still two parts of a soul, and both parts called for the other.

Thanks for reading!

You can expect an update around Saturday, May 19th.