A/N: The scenes are purposely not in chronological order, just so you're aware. Don't read them as if they take place one after another.

When the tremor struck, her first instinct was to check on the secrets of the Pharaoh. Even at her fairing age, she was out of bed and wrapping herself in a light robe before her husband was fully awake.

"Isis!" he called groggily after her once he was more aware, but she was already gone.

Servants rushed madly around her, checking the children or trying to figure out the extent of the damage.

"Lady Isis!" It was Amun, her most trusted and loyal servant.

"The state of the Pharaoh's tablet?" she demanded without preamble.

"No one has been able to reach it as of yet; the entire left wing appears to have collapsed and — Lady Isis!"

She had begun to run in the direction of the room that held the Pharaoh's secrets, uncaring of the danger.

It was a struggle, getting to the room, but she was determined. She could still feel aftershocks shaking the entire structure, and she remained tense, should another tremor strike. Amun attempted to follow her, only to get caught up when one of the women rushed to him, begging for help with one of the children that appeared to have been hurt in the quake.

Isis' heart tightened, but she couldn't focus on anything else right now. The most important thing right now was making sure his secrets had not been destroyed.

She had to fight her way through partial cave-ins, darting past numerous people calling after her to know where she was headed, although most seemed either too preoccupied with the disaster, or they already knew her well enough to know.

For her age, she made it to the room in decent enough time; but reaching the room only yielded her worst fears: the stone tablet that bore the secrets of the Pharaoh had partially fallen in on itself.

The earth suddenly gave another mighty heave, and she lunged for the other side of the room, where the Rod and a single scroll laid.

The last physical copy of the Pharaoh's secrets, now.

The tablet collapsed the rest of the way, the pillars in the room shaking violently, and Isis curled in on herself to protect what she had to, holding the items to her chest.

Debris beat at her until she collapsed, and the world went dark.

"Mother?"

"Lady Isis?"

"Please, where are you?"

"Grandmother!"

The last cry pierced through the haze as Isis gave a pitiful moan and tried to move, only to find her breath catching in her throat as everything seemed to press inward painfully.

Tiny hands clawed at the rubble around her, pushing it away until the hands could scramble at her arms and she could look up to see a tiny face twisting to mask the quiet sobs racking his form. Weakly, she reached out with her now free arm to pat his small arm.

"Grandmother!" he wailed as she opened her eyes to see her dearest grandson before her.

"Mother! A-are you alright? We'll get you out!"

Grim faces stood behind her family. They knew what she knew. There was no getting her out, not without injuring her more.

"It's too late, my love," she said quietly. Moving her chest too much hurt.

"N-no! M-mother, don't s-say that!"

But she didn't need the Tauk to tell her her future this time.

One shaking hand went to her neck, and she removed the Tauk, to hold out. "My daughter; take it."

Tears rolled down her daughter's face as she nodded and cupped her hands together and let the Tauk drop into her hands.

Smaller hands were still scrambling at the wreckage trapping her. She gave the boy a small smile. "My dearest Malik," she murmured, as close to him as she had been to his namesake.

"G-grandmother, please!"

"Hush, my child." She shifted, wincing as she reached for something close to her heart. Moving was only going to kill her faster, but she was dying one way or another, and there were more important things at work. "My dearest Malik," she repeated, "my time has come. I lived a long life. Do not cry. Now is the time to listen to me; you must make sure the secrets of the Pharaoh are not lost. Do whatever you can to ensure this." She stared into the boy's eyes to make sure he understood the gravity of what she was asking of him.

"I-I will, Grandmother." Already, panicked, half-formed thoughts were forming in his mind. If she had known what his plans would lead to, to fulfill her request, she wouldn't have asked this of him. Family had changed her. Her devotion to the Pharaoh was not worth the pain of so many children; but the Tauk gave her no glimpse of the future, now.

Malik gripped the Rod and the scroll tightly in each hand. The scroll looked ready to fall apart, but Malik paid it no mind as he watched his grandmother with wide eyes.

Everyone held their breath as they watched Isis, figures still. The rubble was what was keeping her alive, now.

More whispered words were exchanged, quiet 'I love you's as Malik wrapped his arms around his aunt and buried his face in her stomach, crying and trying to pretend he wasn't. They stayed there with her until the end.

Finally, Malik pulled away from his aunt and squeezed his grandmother's hand, though she couldn't feel it anymore. He pulled away slowly, and stared down at the Rod and the secrets.

Isis had gone to be with the gods.

Her husband was an average man. Forgettable, really, if you ever passed him in the halls. But he was a decent man, much too decent for her, and he understood that love wasn't something she could promise him.

Malik, her dear, sweet younger brother, didn't understand how she could marry someone without love.

She simply brushed his hair back as if he was five again and she was looking after him, and gave him a small smile, knowing their time together was growing shorter.

The Tauk was growing increasingly persistant.

"It's more complicated than that," she told her brother. "Love isn't in my future, little brother. Not the kind you're thinking of, anyway."

"But why? Why not make it part of your future?" he insisted stubbornly.

"My hearts has given all the love it can heed, I think. I will be happy with what I have."

Her husband was an average man. Forgettable, really. But he came from a decent family, and she came to love him in her own way. He eased some of the loneliness, although it could never totally be erased. And when they had children, she loved them, too; more than she thought possible.

She was happy with what she had.

"I have a proposition for you."

"...Yes, my king?"

Set sighed. Isis sighed. "Please, Isis. We both know... I am merely an old friend." It wasn't what he intended to say, but in such a public place like the throne room, his true words couldn't be spoken.

"Not so old, I should think."

He gave a weak smile at the familiar banter. "I think I shall grow old much sooner than I age, should I remain Pharaoh."

Isis looked away in silence, and he watched her for a long moment before standing.

"Let us take a walk."

She looked back to him quickly, moving to follow him to the gardens, where they could be alone. "Se-my king?"

He was silent until he was sure they were alone.

"...I am tired, Isis. We are all that is left of the priests, now, and I am playing Pharaoh, nothing more. We both know I am not the true Pharaoh."

She nodded; neither of them was the type to lie or speak around the truth.

"Isis, I would like to make you my wife. An heir is needed, and I... am lonely. No one else can fully understand how I feel. We... could be less lonely, together."

She stopped and looked at him, and Set sighed. He knew that look.

"You cannot."

Biting her lip, Isis shook her head. What hurt was, she knew the loneliness he spoke of. Not even her little brother could help get rid of all of the loneliness in her heart.

"You seek companionship, Set. And indeed, so do I. It is not a loneliness anyone else will ever be able to understand; however... our duty to the Pharaoh is not done, even if he is gone." She gently touched the Tauk at her neck. "When the Pharaoh awakens at last, he will not remember anything. I have already begun making plans for him. Plans that you cannot be a part of, if you are Pharaoh."

He stared at her for a long time, before he nodded. "I understand. The proposal was a... desperate attempt for comfort. But you're right; I had forgotten what my real duty is. If you need my help for your plans, you need only ask, and you shall receive."

"Set," she whispered, and for a moment she thought there might be tears, but she shook them away. She could see, for just a second, herself marrying him. The wife of the Pharaoh, they could look after Egypt together, and they would have the comfort of someone else that understood their loneliness. She loved him enough to know it would work, even if they weren't strictly in love. And then the picture was gone, and the wheels were already turning in her mind. "...I need a tomb."

"Do you think we were in the right?" The question was asked near-silently, and Set turned to look at Isis in some surprise, although he hid it well.

"Come again?"

"...Everything that happened. Do you think we were in the right?" She touched the Tauk at her neck, not looking at Set. "After finding out where the Items really came from... do you think it was all worth it?"

"Is the Thief getting to you?" Isis simply shrugged, and Set considered her question only momentarily. "...My father did an evil thing. But committing an evil act for the sake of vengeance does not make said act any less evil. Morality is a complex thing, Isis. You should know this. It's not as simple as whether we were right or wrong. Would I do all of it over again, if I had to? Yes. Would I change what had to happen to that village? ...Yes. If I could guarantee the safety of our land another way."

Isis turned to look at him, pondering his words. "...Would you do whatever you had to for the Pharaoh, even if it meant you might hurt someone you care about?"

He stopped at that.

"...I don't know."

She stared down the black hole of an entrance, before looking back at Set and her brother.

It was what she asked for. What she needed to do. Unfortunately, actually facing the reality was suddenly so much harder.

She put her hand to her stomach, where she now held a baby inside her, and she pressed a kiss to her brother's cheek.

"Isis," he began weakly, and she shook her head.

"I'm sorry, Malik. The Pharaoh..." Malik kept his expression carefully blank, but she still saw through to his resentment. "Yeah. I know." He turned away from her, and with a sigh she moved to Set's side.

"Are you ready?" he asked blankly.

"Are you?"

He gave a short, jerk of a nod after a moment and held the Rod out to her reluctantly. "I'm trusting you with this, Isis. Don't—"

"I know." She looked him in the eyes, the last time she would see him. Her last friend. She wouldn't even be able to know when he passed. "Set, I know."

It had taken years for the tomb to be fully finished, but she stood before it now. Her new home and grave.

Isis moved back to her brother. She wouldn't let those words be her last goodbye. "Malik."

He turned to look at her one last time, throwing his arms around her, "Isis, I don't want you to go!"

she squeezed him tightly. Her only family for so long. "The world is a dangerous place. Please be safe, Malik. I love you." She held him a little longer, before she finally had to let him go. She reluctantly moved back to her husband, done saying his own goodbyes to his family, and she took his hand.

They weren't the only ones that would be down there. There would be servants, and other noble families that didn't know everything, but knew this was for their former Pharaoh. She wouldn't be alone. Still...

Isis took her first step into the tomb.

"Isis!" She turned to look at her brother and Set one last time. "...I love you, too."

She opened her mouth and stared at Malik with wide eyes before she gave him a bittersweet smile and turned away.

"...Goodbye."

She took another step inside. She was Isis. Strong, regal, wise, priestess Isis. Second to last of the Item holders and friends still alive.

She was the mother of the Tomb Guardians.

Sometimes, Isis Saw a girl; a strong, regal, wise girl that shared her face, that shared her brother, and she felt a pang in her heart when she watched the girl brush her little brother's hair back like she did when she was younger and looking after her Malik.

Occasionally, she managed to catch snatches of words. She didn't understand a lot of it, nor did she know how far in the future they were, this Ishizu and Marik, and their brother Rishid, but she was envious of them for their family, because she could no longer see her Malik down here in the darkness of the tunnels.

Once, she Saw the boy, her brother-but-not, lying on a stone slab, a rag in his mouth and a white hot knife pressed to his back. She could hear his choked screams as he coughed and gagged on the material in his mouth, soaked with his tears as carvings were dug into his skin. She looked away before she could see what they were, because she couldn't bear his pain.

Rishid carved hieroglyphs of his own in penance, and Ishizu prayed and cried and Isis just wanted to scream at her why aren't you doing anything to help him? Why didn't the two of you take him away from this? But Ishizu couldn't see her, and her words went unattended. She didn't realize her part in this torture.

She waited for the vision to end despondently, wishing this vision could be silent so she wouldn't have to hear the screams, and when she woke up it was with tears in her eyes and a wish to hold her Malik close, but that was no longer an option down here.

I purposely wrote them out of order, I just liked the flow a bit better. You can organize them however you think they go. Reviews are love!

Disclaimer: I don't own Yu-Gi-Oh! If anyone deserves it though, it's LK.