1: Game Start

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Pegasus knew. There wasn't much Seto could do about that. On the bright side, as rich and influential as Pegasus was, no one would ever believe something so obviously outlandish. Literally. At least the megalomaniac knew when to keep his mouth shut. For now anyway. It had taken years for Seto to manufacture his current identity and, despite how hard it was for him to admit it, even to himself, he'd grown rather fond of it.

Kaiba Seto. Adopted son of Kaiba Gozaburo, former CEO of Kaiba Corporations, formerly one of the world leaders in weapons manufacturing. It had taken a long time for Seto to wrest full control of KaibaCorp from the money and warmongering idiots of the Board and focus his energies on something less bloodthirsty and more beneficial. Games.

Perhaps it was his sentimentality. Perhaps it was just logical. Maybe it was a combination of both to varying degrees depending on the time of day or night. After all, war was just as much a game as chess. The games pieces just bled and died instead of topple over onto the board in defeat.

But this was no defeat. Finally, Seto had succeeded. The child he'd come to adore as the brother he never had but always wanted would have a secure future. Seto knew from experience that eventually people would start to get suspicious of his continued youthful appearance. Especially when compared to young Mokuba's relatively rapid growth. Hopefully, it would be a dozen or so years before that happened and he was forced the vanish yet again.

He had to stop typing and press his mouth against his folded hands, glaring at the glowing computer screen in an attempt to will away the pain that threatened to drown him in despair. Mokuba. Never in all his many long years did Seto ever think he would latch onto someone so thoroughly again. Blue eyes the shade of glacial ice slipped to the small form slumbering away on the bed next him, curled up in his white trenchcoat and a pile of pillows.

If Seto had a weakness, it was his vulnerable heart. He felt everything so intensely it often left him raw and exposed. Damn it to Osiris, Seto loved Mokuba like he'd once loved his pharaoh. Love, loyalty, absolute trust. All things he never thought he would ever have or be worthy of ever again.

Long ago, he betrayed his Pharaoh. Whether he did so willingly or not didn't matter. The betrayal still resulted in harm and opened the door to his beloved cousin suffering a fate worse than death. Alone. Seto could never forgive himself for that. Death would have been a mercy.

So he lived.

It had been a long time. Almost too long.

He couldn't bring himself to leave this host. It was his in every single way that mattered. He'd been implanted when both he and his host were too young to remember or have a solid sense of self. The only consciousness to ever fully exist in this body was his own. He was Seto. He couldn't handle the idea of abandoning what he saw as himself and possessing some other innocent person and wearing them like a new costume. The very thought sickened him.

Unfortunately, over time, his many years of lonely existence and exposure to the sarcophagus, even with the numerous alterations he's made to the device, had begun to degrade his mind and personality. When he finally realized what was happening to him, it was almost too late. He destroyed the sarcophagus as completely as possible and swore he would never risk using any Goa'uld device like it again. Not unless he had no other choice.

The resulting withdrawal symptoms that plagued his body also wreaked havoc on his psyche. When Mokuba found him crumbled on the ground that fateful day, Seto had been conscious but barely sane. He latched onto the boy with the possessive single-mindedness of a hostless Goa'uld and, for once, he didn't feel ashamed. Mokuba was worth everything Seto could give. He would do anything to make sure his precious little brother would be protected.

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