A/N So, I thought of this when I saw a parody comic strip called 'How Not To Play Persona 3'. (Here's a link, art/How-Not-to-Play-Persona-3-167314327) It surprised me when I found that this hadn't been done before, though I admit it will be quite difficult and I can only hope this turns out well. That said, it'll be very helpful to get input from all of you, so please review and don't be afraid of letting me know what you think I should do or what you think I've done wrong and I won't hesitate to go back and fix it to the best of my ability. With that, I'll get to the actual story, 'Antihero.'

Chapter 1

How long had he been here? At this stage, Makoto would estimate at around a thousand years. The figure didn't come from any legitimate calculations; it was just what it felt like. He had once regretted not keeping count from the start, but by now he probably didn't want to know the real answer even if knowing would make no difference. He knew there was nothing he could do now, he knew he'd long gone past the point of no return and he was fine with that… wasn't he? No, he didn't want this; why would he want this? He had every right to be unhappy with this fate. If he could go back he'd… What would he do? Would he really do anything different, and risk the lives of everyone he knew? But could he really do the same all over again? Now that he truly understood what would happen to him, the horrors to which he'd be subjected, could he seriously accept such torture willingly? He'd have to, he once thought; doing otherwise would just mean dying anyway. But perhaps dying was better than this. What if the fall really was a good thing? What did Makoto know about the world when he'd saved it? Nothing, and now he'll never know. He'll never be sure if what he did was the right thing, if his friends really were happy, if his sacrifice was worth it…

These thoughts only made his situation worse. He was going insane. All the pointless 'What If's were his only escape from the prison of his own 'body'. If he lost concentration on his thoughts for even a split second, he'd feel the never-ending attacks of Erebus on him again. The only choice he ever had and would ever have to make for perhaps eternity was whether he wanted physical pain or emotional pain. Every now and then, he would have enough of one and switch to the other, being driven more and more insane as time moved on. Maybe he was already insane, or was on the brink of insanity. If it'd offer a reprieve from this hell, he'd gladly welcome it. He'd do anything just to get out… get out! GET OUT!

He couldn't take it anymore! He'd had enough! He wanted OUT! Why!? Why him!? Why did those damn shadows have to do this!? Why did that fucking Kirijo bastard have to start all this!? Why the hell did Aigis have to put death into HIM 10 years ago!? Or a thousand years ago!? However fucking long it'd been, he didn't fucking care he just wanted it to STOP!

"Oh? How badly?" he heard from nowhere.

So this was it; he really HAD gone insane. He was right about the pain stopping. If only madness had claimed him sooner.

"You're not insane," the voice told him.

Oh yes he was. No one could talk to him here; no one had ever talked to him here. He couldn't see nor hear, only feel, and the only thing he ever felt was Erebus' fist.

"Maybe if you try opening your eyes?" the voice suggested, starting to sound fed up.

Eyes? He couldn't open his eyes; he didn't have any! He was nothing but stone: an inanimate object holding a door closed…

He opened his eyes…

He had eyes! He had a body! He looked all over himself, taking in every centimetre of himself, seeing, touching and smelling. He wanted to enjoy every second of this hallucination, praying for it not to end.

"Ahem," the voice cleared its throat, having been completely forgotten by the distracted and delighted Makoto.

Makoto looked up, finally realising that he wasn't alone. He appeared to be floating: an experience to which he'd grown accustomed. Before him floated… something. It looked humanoid, only it had bat-like wings and was lacking a face. It also wore a gold crown atop its head, which was featureless except for a ring of spikes which seemed to be holding the crown up.

"Finally have your attention, I see," it remarked, sounding much more pleased now, "Allow me to introduce myself: my name is Nyarlathotep, and I've come to grant your wish."

…Lies. There was no escape; Makoto was doomed to remain here. He could NOT be saved.

"Oh, but you can, boy," it informed, "It would be rather simple to let you free, in fact." It sounded like it was having fun.

Makoto remained still. He couldn't accept this: his existence as the seal had become all that he knew. He had to stay there! It was important! Otherwise…

Why was he here? To stop Erebus from reaching Nyx! How could he forget that!? What was happening?

"Hmmhmm, unsure of the situation? Let me remind you," it chuckled.

Without warning, it all came back to him. The beating, the pounding, the clawing, no!

"Take me back!" Makoto screamed, suddenly back in front of the black bat-thing.

"Ah, so we've found our voice? Perhaps now you're ready to negotiate an agreement?" it asked.

"Yes," Makoto answered, panting. He hadn't felt air rushing into his lungs in such a long time, even that was incredible.

"As I said before, I am here to grant your wish to be set free," it reminded, "You are unhappy with what has become of your fate and want to change it, am I right?"

"Yes," he answered immediately.

The being, Nyarlathotep, laughed, "Excellent! Now, let us discuss the terms of our arrangement…"

That was long ago. Fifty-six years ago, from Makoto's perspective. For it had been his fifty-sixth failed attempt at improving the past. Once again, he transformed into the Great Seal and once again, he was immediately brought before Nyarlathotep in the empty nowhere that was their meeting place.

"Remind me what you tried that time?" Nyarlathotep enquired, referring to Makoto's plan for that cycle.

"Tried to find that thing you keep telling me about," Makoto responded, referring to what Nyarlathotep had called 'The only way' amongst other things, "As you can see, I didn't find it…" he muttered bitterly.

"Indeed," Nyarlathotep chuckled. "It's still so amusing watching you obsess over it like you did at the start. You're even more dedicated now that you've started to grow tired of your friends," he pointed out, laughing cruelly. Makoto was used to that cruelty; he had to endure it every time he failed.

"If it weren't for your damn rules making it so repetitive, I wouldn't be," Makoto informed, glaring at his 'saviour'. "Anyway, I think we've already had this exact conversation a couple of tries ago. Can we move on?"

"So quick to lose interest, yet so scared to let things go. I do wonder why you mortals are like that," Nyarlathotep teased. "So tell me, Makoto, what entertainment have you planned for me next?" he asked, excitement in his voice.

"I don't know," Makoto told him. He had said this before, but eventually, Nyarlathotep would send him back anyway, and being sent without a plan was always an even more horrible experience.

"Oh come now, there are plenty of things you haven't tried yet!" Nyarlathotep scolded playfully.

"Like what?"

"Now now, what's rule #20?"

"You can't help me between cycles," Makoto replied right away. He knew the contract he'd signed with Nyarlathotep backwards by now. He'd spent an immeasurable amount of time negotiating it with him, making absolutely sure that there was nothing of which he wasn't aware or with which he was unwilling to agree. That didn't mean there was a single part of it that he liked… "But that's the god-damn problem! I can't work with these rules, Nyarlathotep! I can't think of anything else that won't break them!"

"You can. You've been saying you can't for a long time and you always come up with something. Now come on, think," he ordered.

"I've thought and I've thought, but nothing's worked! Rule #2: I have to kill all twelve arcana shadows! Rule #5: Anything other than preventing the fall myself will terminate the contract and restore everything back to how it was before signing it! Those two on their own are enough to make everything the exact same fucking thing every time! I can't do it anymore! I can't do anything without risking losing it all and… and…" he stopped, not bothering to finish the sentence and instead focusing on thinking.

"Perhaps it's time to do so? To risk complete failure."

"Shut up, you're not allowed help me," Makoto snapped.

"It's merely a suggestion. I don't consider that helping and it's my contract, so-"

"It's OUR contract and I consider it helping, so shut up," he barked.

"Very well," he conceded, sounding highly-amused.

Makoto sighed and muttered "One thing…"

"What's that?"

"There's one thing I haven't tried, but…"

"Yes?" Nyarlathotep encouraged, starting to get very excited.

"If it doesn't work, I know it'll be my last shot," Makoto told him, sounding miserable.

"Go on, tell me. I'm dying to know!"

"What if I do it all on my own?" Makoto proposed.

"Meaning?"

"It'd change everything. No contract, no velvet room, no social links."

"Now THAT'S different!" Nyarlathotep praised, laughing heartily. "And why, pray tell, would that work?" he asked with great intrigue.

"There's no reason other than the fact that that I haven't tried it yet," Makoto said, sounding more confident.

"This is why I chose you, boy! This is what I came for! Very well!" Nyarlathotep started, rising up above Makoto, hands aglow, "Do you understand the rules of the contract?" he recited as he did every time he sent Makoto back to the past.

"Yes," Makoto answered, with more feeling than he had in a long time. Wind had started to pick up and swirl around them, energy flowing towards Nyarlathotep.

"Do you understand the penalty for breaking these rules?"

"Yes." Immediate restart, with two warnings for minor offences.

"Are you ready to begin?"

"Yes."

"One more thing…" Nyarlathotep called: something that hadn't happened before. He looked at Makoto for a few seconds. Had he a face, Makoto was sure it'd be smiling. "Do you choose this fate of your own free will?"

Makoto knew what Nyarlathotep was doing: he was psyching him up. He was just as excited about this as he was, so he answered readily. "NO!"

"That's what I like to hear! Go forth, Makoto! Prove destiny wrong and show the gods what you can really do!" Nyarlathotep roared before firing a beam at Makoto's feet. As the portal opened, Makoto felt he had to say one more thing.

"Nyarlathotep!" he called, feeling the familiar sensation of disintegrating from the feet up.

"What is it boy?"

Makoto smiled a somewhat sad smile at the demon. One way of the other, this would like be the last time they meet. "Thank you, for everything…"

"The next stop is Iwatodai, Iwatodai." The dull voice of the intercom was the first thing of which Makoto became aware after coming back. Now that he was here again, Makoto's mood already dropped to a staggering low. But unlike the last few times, he was filled with determination, motivation, something that told him to keep going and see this thing through rather than let it keep him down until it ended, and shortly began again.

He quickly moved his hand to turn off his mp3 player, which was blasting out the sounds of 'Burn My Dread.' The beat came to a sudden halt and Minato took off his earphones, quietly muttering "I fucking hate that song."

The train stopped at the station and Makoto moved quickly to get out. He walked with a rather grim face, thinking of nothing other than what he was about to do and the consequences that would follow. 'It must be done,' he told himself. He was sick of this repetition, so sick it had driven him to something completely irrational and doomed to fail. But that was what he'd thought when going up to fight Nyx for the first time: that it was stupid and hopeless. And just like back then, he spat in the face of that fear and pushed on.

He reached the dorm, now well into the dark hour, and opened the door, immediately walking towards the counter where Pharos, as always, sat waiting for him.

"You're late," Pharos told him, like always. Nothing Pharos said was registered by Makoto until he produced the contract and placed it in front of him.

This was it, the moment of truth. Makoto flicked open the contract, holding the pen in his right hand and read it just one last time before he would give the middle finger to Pharos, Igor, Elizabeth and fate itself.

Makoto placed the pen down on the signature line, understandably hesitant to follow through with it, before clenching his teeth and scraping the pen hard down the page.

"Huh?" Pharos reacted.

Makoto grasped the page and tore it out of the small cover before ripping it to shreds and tossing the fragments behind.

"No! W-what have you done!?" Pharos yelled at him.

"What I should have done a long, long time ago," Makoto replied with pure venom in every syllable, "I'll make my own future this time."

Pharos stood there, agasp, before fading into shadow as the dark hour drew to a close.

A/N So there you have it, the first of hopefully many chapters in what will be a very different telling of Persona 3's story. Please tell me what you think! I NEED reviews!