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Atem’s footsteps echoed in the silent dollhouse, the empty gazes of the dolls feeling uncomfortably real, until he stopped just short of a man appearing out of thin air.
“Who are you?” Atem demanded. “Why have you brought my partner and I here?” He had already recovered his name and his memories, and settled those old scores, so this enemy was a mystery to him.
“I have heard,” the stranger said, “that you are called the King of Games. And I find myself with a shortage of worthy opponents. I would like to see if you live up to your title, or at the very least, if you can entertain me for a while. Win, and you may leave this place. Lose, and become one of my toys – or two, I suppose.”
“I see,” Atem said, coldly. And he did, empty-eyed dolls all around him. Not the first time he’d seen that, after all.
Be careful.
I don’t think he’s giving us a choice, partner. We have to play, and win his game.
Even if they were walking into a trap, Atem had to hold his head high. Confidence was part of the game, too.
And so the game began.