I do not own Sailor Moon or Yu-Gi-Oh! If I did... well, let's just say it'd be my way!

Beta-corrected by: Midnight's Violet Haze here on Fanfiction!

Enjoy the first chapter!

Amethyst eyes scanned over the woman impassively. She had perfect chin-length, straight black hair that framed her face and deep, chocolate brown eyes outlined thickly by kohl. Her skin shimmered a faint brown in the torch lights. She wore a simple white dress-with beads woven into the fabric over her chest, he noticed with a touch of surprise; it was a highly rare occurrence to see such a thing-that clung to her form and left little to the imagination. A see-through, four foot shawl draped around and hung off her shoulders, giving her an ethereal appearance. To top off her look, she wore an assortment of golden bracelets, anklets, rings, and a thick turquoise necklace.

She was an absolutely stunning woman to many of the men in his army.

But not to him.

She is just another woman to take to his bed, use her until she no longer satisfied or aroused him, then throw her in with the harem he did not care to visit. But that's how it always was; once he got bored with a woman, he tossed her aside, only keeping her as part of his collection.

"You may speak."

The woman kept her eyes trained to the floor in respect. "I am a gift, Pharaoh, from my home."

"And where is it you are from?"

"Atef-Pehu(1), my Pharaoh."

The Pharaoh knew why he was receiving her as a 'gift'. She was another woman, adorned with riches far beyond her familial income, sent to make him fall in love with her so she may be his bride; his Queen of Egypt.

By common, yet ancient principle, both Upper and Lower Egypt were to present a beautiful woman to the Pharaoh every year after the Pharaoh's first year or rule.

He was, of course, used to this; he had been ruling for six years, after all. His father had died giving his life for Egypt in a war against a neighboring land.

"Meow!"

He smiled. "Aziza," he greeted with a slightly more jovial tone to his voice. (2)

The female cat in question jumped onto the left armrest of the throne chair and sat up straight. Aziza had very soft tan fur with thin, jagged black stripes across her body. Her eyes were bright green, a rare trait to most cats in either Upper or Lower Egypt.

The Pharaoh began to pet his companion as he once again looked to the woman before him. After a moment, his gaze flickered to his priestess, Isis. Immediately, the priestess came to the beautiful woman's side.

"Prepare her and take her to my chambers."

"Yes, my king." Isis beckoned the younger to follow her and not a moment later, both women were gone.

The Pharaoh turned to his vizier, Siamun Muran. "Is there anything else?" the ruler of Egypt asked dispassionately.

Not outwardly reacting to his Pharaoh's tone, Siamun answered, "Yes, Your Highness. Maskini (3) of Herui(4) has come to seek an audience with you on a matter of business."

The Pharaoh nodded his understanding. "Allow him in."

Two people walked from the long hallway ahead of him. One was a guard who followed behind the other, an older man-early sixties at the oldest, with kohl etched around his eyes and one golden ring wrapped around both his upper arms. The older man wore a knee-length, dirtied white shendyt (5) with a dull yellow rope for a belt and a big, dirty, baggy, sleeveless white tunic. It was obvious to the Pharaoh's council and the king himself that the man was poor-he looked like he didn't eat decent meals too often.

The man-Maskini, the Pharaoh reminded himself-dropped to his knees and leaned over, bowing respectfully. The guard bowed his head, also respectfully, but watched the nearly-elderly visitor, his back straight and spear rigid at his side.

"You may speak," the Pharaoh told the man.

Like the young woman before him, the man kept his gaze at the floor as he told his tale, "It's my village, Your Highness. It is being terrorized by bandits! They steal our food just when we collect enough to have some and kill anyone who gets close! They..."

As the old man prattled on, the Pharaoh's mind wandered. It was always the same thing with the citizens who came to see him. They expected him to solve all their problems. 'My liege, please help us overcome the drought!', 'I beg of you, Pharaoh, save my family from the plague that has encompassed our village!', 'My family will starve if we cannot harvest food soon!'. No one ever came to the palace without some sort of proposition or complaint. It was tiresome.

"-Highness, please help us!"

The Pharaoh's amethyst gaze snapped to the old man, an irritated gleam in his eyes. "Does your village have weapons?" the king questioned gruffly.

The man shook his head. "No, sire. The bandits took them-"

"Then you shall be permitted a cart with weapons for your village so you may defend yourselves."

The old man's head shot up, alarmed. "The bandits will kill me on sight and steal the weapons if-GAAH!" Maskini fell forward as the butt of the guard's spear rammed harshly into the back of the old man's head.

"How dare you speak against your king's generous offer!?" The guard roared, outraged.

Maskini's eyes widened in horror as he realized his mistake. Immediately, he threw his hands forward against the hard floor and lowered his head to the ground, begging for forgiveness, but he received none. The guard took the whip from his side and unraveled it before striking at the man's back. The Pharaoh watched as lash after lash tore through the man's shirt and skin alike, creating red gashes over already-scarred skin.

After a few moments of watching the whipping, the Pharaoh held up his hand to stop the guard, who obeyed immediately. "Enough. I do not want his blood to taint my floor."

The guard straightened and rewrapped his whip before placing it back to his side, not daring to speak.

"Take him to the dungeons. He shall stay there for thirty-one Ra cycles for his insolence."

The guard nodded stiffly before hauling Maskini up from the floor and dragging him out of the throne room.

The Pharaoh held back a sigh. 'You would think the people of Kemet (6) would learn to obey and appreciate what their God does for them...'

"My Pharaoh," a voice spoke up.

Amethyst eyes turned questioningly to his brown-haired priest.

Upon having acquired his king's attention, he asked, "Should we not look into what Maskini said? About those bandits-"

"It matters not if there are bandits in that town," the Pharaoh interrupted. "They are of no threat to me."

"But those citizens-" the priest began to argue but was silenced with the raise of the Pharaoh's hand.

"They are not a threat. We are not going to bother with them. So let it be written, so let it be done."

And just like that, the priest backed down and no one said another word of protest.

Siamun spoke up again, "The last order of business is to pass judgment upon Odji (7), a man from Uatchet (8) who killed all but one member of the now-deceased Lord Omari's (9) household."

"Let him enter."

Unlike the last man who had approached, Odji was considerably younger-no later than thirty years old-and much more muscular. He stood at 6'4'' and also wore a shendyt, though much cleaner, with a bright yellow rope wrapped around his waist as a belt with short, evenly-cut black hair. He wore two golden rings around both his upper arms and heavy, tablet-shaped earrings. His dark brown eyes, etched with a thin line of kohl, held the rage of a wild animal ready to lash out. He would have, too, if it weren't for the heavy iron biting into his ankles and wrists and the two guards trailing behind him: one pushing him forward and the other gripping his spear tightly in anticipation of sudden foul play.

The Pharaoh's face remained impassive as Odji was forced to his knees. Lord Omari's family meant nothing to him, but they did provide one of the best silks in all of Egypt. To have almost all of them killed, with little chance that the only living son knew anything about how to prepare the Ra-gifted silks...

The Pharaoh did not like having something he enjoyed receiving taken from him.

"You are before the Pharaoh because you have been accused of murdering Lord Omari, his wife Lady Amisi (10), and their daughters Mandisa (11) and Kakra (12). How do you plead to these charges?"

Odji's voice was unwavering and truthful when he replied, "Yes, I killed the hated lord, his cruel wife, and their whores for daughters." There were a few collective gasps at his crude language, but he continued, undeterred, "He murdered my wife and son... in front of me!" Odji struggled to hold back tears now, pain etched strongly in his voice.

"That does not give you the right to exact your revenge on Lord Omari and his family," Priest Karim said solemnly. "You could have come to His Highness-"

"I DID THAT!" The man screamed. Tears furiously, unashamedly, fell from his eyes and dripped onto the floor. "But the Pharaoh-" the king's eyebrows twitched in displeasure, not at all liking the tone the prisoner used with his title, yet raised his hand, stopping the guards before they harmed the bulky man. "-refused to see me! The injustice done unto my family demanded the Omari's blood as retribution!"

"It is not any right of yours to take revenge for the wrongdoing of someone else," Priest Shada reproved.

Odji opened his mouth to respond but the Pharaoh interrupted him. "Why not kill the boy, then? You spared his life; why?"

"He was innocent; he had done nothing wrong." The prisoner responded quietly.

The Pharaoh did not accept that as an answer. "The boy is Lord Omari's son; he will surely be a near-carbon-copy of his father when he is older. So I ask again, why not just kill him?"

Odji didn't respond immediately, but when he finally did, the Pharaoh's body stiffened in anger. "You, who would blame a child for his father's crime... You, who would not give a lowly peasant the time of day to tell you of a crime..." the Egyptian man paused before looking up into the eyes of his king. "You deserve a far worse fate. May the Gods show you no mercy."

The Pharaoh's eyes narrowed to slits. "You do realize you can be severely punished-even put to death-for all you have said."

"I am already dead." Odji replied with a humorless smile.

Having heard enough, the ruler of Egypt lowered his hand and nodded to the guards. The two guards roughly yanked the bulky man to his feet and forcefully bowed the prisoner's head.

"Take him to the dungeons and give him fifty lashes." His eyes glowed with a hint of crimson as he added, "He shall pay for his insolence with his life before the people of Kemet in three days, when Ra is at his highest point in the sky."

The rest of the day had gone uneventful for the ruler of Egypt. Sign official documents here, meet lords over trivial matters there... it was truly tedious.

By nightfall, the Pharaoh ended up on a balcony under the nearly pitch-black sky. Thousands and thousands of stars glittered brightly, and only seemed to sparkle more when he gazed at them. Admittedly, he liked the stars; they were the only innocent things in this universe. As his eyes explored the endless sky, his eyes swiveled over to the Moon... and immediately narrowed.

He hated the Moon.

Unlike Ra, whose rays revealed each and every misdeed to his reign, the moonlight was weak... barely a flicker in some instances. Contrary to those who thought it beautiful or helpful in religious beliefs, he thought it ugly and deceptive; it helped cast shadows over runaway thieves and traitors and others who defied him.

No, the Moon was not beautiful, it was treacherous.

"Meow!"

The king of Egypt turned at the sudden noise, prepared to bark out a verbal lashing and punishment, when he saw Aziza just a few feet away, her tail swishing back and forth as she waited for his call.

She did not have to wait long. "Aziza," the king cooed affectionately, smiling a small, true smile that only the cat had ever received.

With another meow, Aziza padded over to the Pharaoh, purring as she curled her way around the Pharaoh's legs, enticing a chuckle from the man.

"It's good to see you, my friend," the Pharaoh confided honestly, bending down to pet her. His eyebrows furrowed in confusion when the cat scampered away from him, stopping just a few feet away and meowing for his attention again.

He straightened. "Aziza?" he questioned, taking a few steps forward. When he came close to her, she scampered off again, only to stop and meow for him once more.

'What is she doing?' he wondered. "Aziza?" He approached her again, and just like before, when he got too close, she ran away, only to stop and meow for him once more.

When he didn't come after her again, Aziza purred loudly, taking a few steps forward before turning back around, coming toward him but turned away just before touching him and repeated the action over and over.

The Pharaoh frowned. His companion had never behaved this way before but, because she was, his gut prompted him to take it seriously.

"Do you want me to follow you?"

Aziza's head tilted a bit and meowed what he assumed to be a "yes" before running off, the Pharaoh following her just a few feet behind.

Corridor after corridor, turn after turn the Pharaoh ran, occasionally calling to his companion but did not receive an answer.

Eventually, the king ended up outside, the night hiding Aziza from view. He bent over to catch his breath and slow his racing heart, his clothes suddenly feeling much too hot.

A sudden golden flash caught his attention. Cautiously, the Pharaoh straightened his spine and slowly entered what he recognized as his outdoor garden. In the center of his outdoor garden lay a very large fountain full of lotus flowers. Surrounding it were different plants here and there, and though it was a wonderful sight to look at, his mind primarily focused on the intruder who dared to enter his private garden.

As quietly as he could, the Pharaoh slowly stepped around the fountain...

"Greetings, Pharaoh."

...and promptly bowed before the person in front of him.

"Rise."

And the Pharaoh did it without question, all the while looking over the individual in front of him.

She was beautiful. She wore a white kalasiris (13) that reached down to her ankles. The jewelry she wore was of red, blue, and green beads around her wrists, upper arms, ankles, and in the thick necklace, all of which were lined with gold. Wings lined her arms in the same colors as her beads, full and real and sure to be very soft. Her black hair fell neatly mid-back and across her shoulders. Across her head was a golden band with a blue ostrich feather. In one hand, the sceptre that symbolized power, and in the other, much to his sudden wariness, nothing-the ankh that symbolized eternal life was not present. The ethereal, golden light around her told the Pharaoh that she was no imposter.

This was the Goddess Ma'at before his very eyes.

Aziza purred as the Goddess momentarily bent down to pet the cat. "Thank you for your help, Aziza."

The Goddess was answered with another, louder, purr.

Ma'at straightened and turned her piercing, dark brown eyes to the Pharaoh of Egypt and frowned.

"You have disgraced your throne and ancestors, Pharaoh," she began disapprovingly, noticing the twitch in his jaw as she did so; he was never talked to this way, she knew. "Your mother would be so disappointed in you."

He frowned. "I do not understand how I have displeased you, Goddess." He meant it. She knew he did.

"You have not upheld my views of justice, balance, harmony, and truth." Ma'at paused, contemplating something the Pharaoh did not know, before commanding, "Hold out your hands, Pharaoh."

The man, though confused, did as she instructed. He watched as Ma'at plucked the blue ostrich feather from her band and held it above his awaiting palms for a moment before releasing it.

The next event happened so fast it astonished him. One second, he was mesmerized by the gentle, slow fall of the feather's descent to his eager palms, even more amazed by how soft it felt against his skin. Then, a second later, he was hunched over, his legs and arms shaking violently with the effort to keep himself from collapsing, the feather suddenly weighing heavier than an adult crocodile.

Ma'at let out a silent sigh. "You cannot hold my feather properly, and thus proves my point: Your heart is shadowed by cruelty and tyranny. It has been for a long time. Due to this, you have taken to making poor-even wrong-decisions, when you knew there better choices. Your people have grown to despise you so much, now they wish you dead-and it is only a matter of time before these very balanced human beings are corrupted by that hatred which has been seeded into their hearts and attempt to kill you." She paused a moment, looking down at her feather.

"Your heart deserves to be eaten by Ammit(14) here and now."

The Pharaoh's blood ran cold. He didn't want to die! He couldn't!

But he made no move to argue in his defense. Something, somewhere inside him, stopped him. If it was over, he didn't have a right to fight-especially not with a Goddess so powerful as Ma'at.

"However, you will not die this night."

The Pharaoh's head shot up so fast it was a miracle he didn't get whiplash. He watched Ma'at reach down, take her feather from his hand and put it back in her band.

"You managed to hold my feather up from the ground, and that means you have a chance-a chance to redeem yourself and prove to the Gods and Kemet alike that you are a worthy pharaoh."

Ma'at looked into the Pharaoh's eyes and opened her arms.

"Pharaoh Atem, you will go to the place you hate most to learn my principles and bear the color eyes of which reflect all your most severe crimes."

Her winged arms wrapped around him and held him close in the way he was sure a mother would when comforting her child. He only had a split second to recognize that she was so warm before his eyes drifted closed and the blackness engulfed him.

Atem felt himself slowly drift into consciousness from a dreamless sleep. His hand twitched and he felt a spark of amazement. Whatever he was laying on felt cool and soft-neither of which he was used to feeling at the same time. Despite its softness, he could distinctly feel hard ground beneath him.

'What is this? The sands of Kemet have never felt this way...'

A breeze drifted over him, caressing him, making sure every exposed part of his skin felt its presence and every inch of clothing ruffled. It refreshed him but did not make him shiver in cold; he felt too warm.

'Am I in the afterlife?' Pharaoh Atem wondered. If he was, this was the most he'd ever been at peace. And if he were honest with himself... he didn't want to leave.

"Your heart deserves to be eaten by Ammit here and now."

Icy cold realization hit him. Ma'at wouldn't allow him into the afterlife-he wasn't worthy of ruling Kemet in her eyes, let alone having an easy access to paradise.

So, where was he?

He felt it then.

The feeling of being watched!

His eyes sprang open... and drowned in startled cerulean.

And there's the first chapter, everyone! I hope you enjoyed it! Reviews and favorites ensure faster results!

Notes/Meanings:

(1) Atef-Pehu: It is an Ancient Egyptian city. I do not know what it means.

(2) Aziza: An Egyptian female name meaning, "Precious". Azizi is the male form.

(3) Maskini: An Egyptian male name meaning Poor.

(4) Herui: It is an Ancient Egyptian city. It is written as two falcons in hieroglyphics and thus earning the name, "The Two Falcons."

(5) Shendyt: A wrap around skirt that is belted around the waist. Sometimes they are pleated or gathered in the front.

(6) Kemet: The official name that the Ancient Egyptians called their country. It means, "Black Land". Sometimes, they'd refer to their country as Ta-mery, or "Beloved Land".

(7) Odji: An Egyptian male name meaning Wicked.

(8) Uatchet: It is an Ancient Egyptian city. It is written as a snake in hieroglyphics and thus earning the name, "The Snake".

(9) Omari: An Egyptian male name meaning High Born.

(10) Amisi: An Egyptian female name meaning Flower.

(11) Mandisa: An Egyptian female name meaning Sweet.

(12) Kakra: An Egyptian female name meaning Twin.

(13) Kalasiris: A simple sheath dress that many Ancient Egyptian women wore.

(14) Ammit: Also known as "Ammut" and "Ahemait", she is a Goddess with the head of a crocodile, torso of a wild cat, and hindquarters of a hippopotamus (though she did have a human form). Ammit sat beside the scales of Ma'at ready to eat the souls or hearts of the deceased. She was not worshipped because she was everything that the Ancient Egyptians feared.