preface.
"Ten times," she says. Her fingers are spread outward, palms facing you. Her mouth takes on a girlish, amused set, her eyes running along the edge of the sword Igor had insisted you leave at the door. "Ten deaths, ten miracles."
The last thing you hear before the chirp of your alarm clock pulls you back to the waking world is, "Don't waste them."
one.
It's your first time in Tartarus. She doesn't say anything, but Yukari's hands are shaking every time she pulls out her Evoker. Junpei hops from foot to foot in battle, grinning all the while. For your part, you're going over the names in your mind -- Pixie, Slime, Apsaras, Orpheus -- and hoping that when you squeeze the trigger, the right one responds.
It doesn't. Something happens -- you screwed up, you thought of one and imagined the other, you were tired and sore and confused -- but Pixie's cool glow fills you, rather than Orpheus' mournful strums. Her arms spread outward, the air thickening with life as she casts Dia after Dia on the shadows.
Junpei is the first one to fall, a sickening crack rising above the sounds of battle as he slumps down lifelessly. Yukari goes next, her eyes wide and blurred with terror.
Mitsuru's voice cuts through the crawling silence left in their wake. Arisato, what is happening? I can't get a read on Takeba—
Later, you remember one last bright flash of crimson and the sound of flesh being ravaged beneath teeth.
Cold hands cradle you gently as the darkness lessens into an eerie, tepid grey. Fingers press against your jawbone, forcing your mouth open. For an instant, the taste of peaches bursts like fire, and you almost forget what anything else might taste like. "Be careful," a voice says, airy and light. "You've only got nine more chances."
two.
You've been separated from the others.
Mitsuru's voice, taut with worry and perhaps the first time you've heard her be anything but composed, keeps crackling in and out. Whatever she doesn't say, Titania whispers to you in her tepid voice and you grip the hilt of your sword tight enough to break the skin as you step around the corner.
The shadow sees you first and you barely have time to draw your Evoker. It bares its teeth in a bloodstained grimace – you try not to think about whose blood it is – and you press the barrel of the Evoker to your head. You feel like you've been here before, splashes of blood and the snapping of stained, feral teeth. When the shadow gets the upperhand, claws knitting themselves in your hair and jerking you around like a stringless puppet, you begin to smile.
You wake up to the smell of peach.
three.
The hotel is swathed in pink and the thick waft of perfume and sex seems to emanate from the very walls, clouding your senses.
Every time you blink, you still see the curve of Yukari's bare shoulders.
You were distracted. It was your own fault, really. You tugged against your collar, made unbearably warm by the images that plagued your memory. It was easy to forget that you were a teenage boy with very teenage desires when you were fighting Shadows every night, and the sudden reminder was like fire in your belly. You couldn't think of anything else.
"Silly boy." A laugh trails off into a giggle. "Is this not why they invented cold showers?"
four.
"It's charging up for something." Fuuka's cries penetrate the thick air. You nod, pulling Ose forward so he can strike.
Aigis falls. The sounds made -- a computer shutting down -- remind you that she's not real, not human, just a thing. Still, she's a part of the team, and you can't help but recoil at the sight of her head hitting the cement floor. Mitsuru is next, not brought down by the onslaught of electricity but what comes after it; a physical blow to the head. Blood trickles down her jaw, the shock of red at odds with her pale skin.
Akihiko is still standing. Electricity is his element, you remember with a grim smile. It makes him useful and useless at the same time.
"Fuuka," you call out. "Send Shinjiro down here."
You heft your sword and bring it down against the Shadow's leg. It doesn't bleed, but it cries out all the same. Electricity pours from the wound like ichor, blasting you back against the cold cement. Your head cracks against it, and you know nothing else.
After the peach -- after relearning how to stand on your legs -- you find yourself staring at a patch of dried blood on the ground. Your blood, you realise instantly, a cold gust of terror creeping up your neck. You wonder how many times you've bled, how many bones you've broken, how many organs have been punctured. The chill stays with you throughout the next day, and the next, and the next.
five.
Later, when all you can taste is the remnants of sour peach, you find yourself in the Velvet Room.
"Why me," you ask Elizabeth, "and not him?"
Why am I so worth saving? You know the answer; you're the Wild Card. After this night, with this death still hanging like a spectre above your head, it's meaningless. There's blood on your hands -- couldn't save him, couldn't help him -- and for the first time, you're afraid.
Her hands curl around your shoulders as she pulls you close. "You will stand taller, now that you've got someone to fight for."
six.
The final battle. If you fall here, what was the point?
Aigis slams into you, shielding your body from the blow that would have taken your life. They're all standing on shaky legs. They hold their weapons limply; they're exhausted.
They never take their eyes off the shadow at the end of the bridge -- not even for a moment.
You run your hand against the object in your pocket, feeling the rough texture of its skin. Its presence is assurance enough, and you raise your sword once more. Maybe -- it's a slim hope, but it's enough to put the fight back into your limbs -- you won't even need it.
seven.
"Penthesilea," Mitsuru says, pressing the barrel of her Evoker to her temple.
Something is wrong, anyone can tell that. Her voice is hollow, less sure than she had been a two weeks ago.
She seems more like her father than she ever had before.
You wait for the drumming of bronzed wings, for the Empress' battle cry. The walls seem to go on forever and when you realise nothing is coming, you tighten your fist around the hilt of your sword and swing—once, twice, three times.
It's not enough.
It's never enough, not against the angered snakes coiling around your throat. A stifled cry cuts off midway, and you can barely make out Mitsuru's fallen form.
Your eyes draw a line against the wave of her hair. All your fault, you think, seconds away from choking on your own venom. You hate yourself a little, but you hate her more; rich little cast-off exiled to her family's island, broken china doll without a purpose. She brought you here, she got you killed. Again and again and again, you count in your head, as you remember repeatedly watching the light in Yukari's eyes go out forever.
A cool hand brushes against your cheek, and you bite down on peach.
eight.
First Junpei, than Chidori. One life traded for another.
You thrust your hand in your pocket, your hand brushing against something warm. You could use it for her, couldn't you? For once you could help someone who isn't yourself... and maybe you could take away the ugly expression on Junpei's face, give your friend back his smile.
Takaya calls it meaningless. The fire is enough to drive them both back, but not enough to kill them.
You never felt right fighting other people, and someone has already died tonight. Maybe that's the reason you're slow to draw your Evoker and pull forward Oberon instead of Odin, Incubus instead of White Rider. You don't go for their weaknesses -- run, you think, almost begging. You can still see Chidori, limp against the ground; a colourless, lifeless shell. You hated the girl once, for what she did to Junpei. Laid out at your feet, you only hate yourself.
You run your fingers against the object in your pocket again and again, considering it. A little bit of extra life, to make sure no one else falls. For the first time, you welcome the burst of peach.
nine.
The final guardian – the Jotun of Grief – absorbs everything you can throw at it.
You've never hated the Shadows before. You hate this one now, watching as it grins wide enough to split its face in half.
Armageddon. You've never cast it before (you never found enough hatred to sustain such a deadly spell), but you can feel it writhing in your mind as you pull both Helel and Satan forward. Be careful, Satan booms. The backlash is severe enough to kill the caster.
ten.
To have gotten so far only to fall here -- it's fitting, even if the thought disgusts you. You're staring at yourself, a face borrowed by a fake boy who had wormed his way into your life and then stepped out before the final act.
You spent the entire month lending voiceless strength -- you're the one with the power, they say. You're the one who will drive Nyx back to where she came from, while they watch your back. You smile, because you know they're going to die and you want them to die believing in something.
When you fall, you're warmer than you've ever been. Everything is here. Your parents smile at you, reaching out.
Cold hands rest against your neck. No, you try to say. No—
You smell the peach before you taste it, and try to cough it back up. Let them rest. Let me rest.
In the warmth, you don't have to be the one with the power. You don't have to be the boy with the voices in his head. You don't have to be the legs everyone else uses to stand up tall. You can be Minato, and that'll be enough.
If it's the end, it's the end. You were never scared of death, not like them. You were death.
Someone (cold hands) shakes at your collar.
It erupts in you, the life you didn't want. Under your tongue, you taste only peach.
coda.
Elizabeth wraps her arms around you. "I'm all out of the plumes, I'm afraid."
Your mouth contorts into a very real smile. Finally.