DISCLAIMER: ATLUS owns the whole Persona series. I do not.


"Ah, we've been expecting your arrival. Albeit, not like this, Young Master."

Where was I . . . ?

Who are . . . ?

"It seems that a certain being has taken upon itself to change your fate, and our Master smiles upon this event, allowing himself the benefit of a doubt towards his cohort. Nevertheless, no matter how much it will change you, we servants of the Soul will continue to aid you."

Velvet . . . blue?

Everything swirled . . . can't see straight . . .

I wanna hurl . . . So dizzy . . .

"Forgive us, but time runs short. Your new benefactor insists that he guides you himself, however reckless our side sees his plan. Until we meet again, Young Master . . . "

I wanna . . . sleep . . .


. . .

"Nnngghh . . ."

"Hmph. Finally decided to wake up, have you? Took you long enough."

" . . . ?"

The lad squinted, adjusting his eyes to the bright glare of the lights. His sight showed him that he was in a bleak room with only a television, a small table, and a vase for furniture. Van Gogh's Starry Night was hung by the wall, and he felt warmth from the sheets that draped him while he lay on a soft bed. A steady beeping sound came from a monitor near him, and the feel of the needle stuck into him connected to an IV drip was something unfamiliar to his system.

He then sat up on the bed, and turned to the side opposite the monitor to see a man dressed in a black turtleneck under a grey coat, with matching dark slacks and black shoes. His black hair was cut and comb neatly, with the greying sides hinting of his age, and his eyes were hidden by a pair of reddish sunglasses. A newspaper was neatly folded on his lap, with the page on the crossword section. He twiddled the slim, silver pen on his hand, and stared at the bedridden lad with a boorish expression.

"I was hoping for a more expressive wake up call, you know? Man, that guy was right when he said you weren't one for emotional display, but to think it would be like this—oh well. I guess you already know that you're free from your job for now."

" . . . You don't have to remind me. So, what's next?"

The man in dark sunglasses chuckled. "Straight to the point, aren't we? Well, we'll be—no, it's more appropriate to say that you'll be messing with time. Oh, and expect the repercussions early on. Of course, that goes without saying—"

"It's fine, I already know. He told me earlier about this. There's just . . . no turning back." The lad cast his head down, a grim visage painting his face. He clearly understood the importance of this, and if he plays his cards right, then everything can be changed.

Deaths undone and sacrifices avoided.

The lad's company stood up, and rolled the newspaper; carrying it under his right arm. He produced a fedora from thin air, and topped his head. ". . . Just to confirm it, and this'll be the last time you'll have to answer—are you really sure about this? Even we don't know what can happen."

The lad settled back on his bed, and then closed his eyes. "I am. I won't hesitate now. Do it."

The man pulled out a card from his pocket and placed it next to the lad, then snapped the fingers of his free hand, and a split second later, a monstrous earthquake shook the room. The walls cracked, and the floor began crumbling down. Debris from the ceiling fell, but none managed to fall on the lad. His eyes remained closed, and his conscious was gripped by sleep.

The man calmly walked towards the still standing door, which glowed eerily blue. He stuck a distinct key into the keyhole, twisted it, and opened the blue exit. He then tipped his hat, and his lips curled ever so slightly as he watched the lad on the hospital bed.

"You're no longer the Seal, but the power of the Universe still swirls within you, waiting for the way you'll be redefining fate . . . Let's see how you'll alter the tale for this loop, Minato Arisato."


Minato, who was sprawled upon the steel floor of an unknown abode, came to.

The sound of an explosion rang in his ears, and a small quake shook him well enough to regain shreds of his muddled conscious.

His eyes fluttered open slowly, and the moment his gaze fixated on the darkness ahead of him, vertigo assaulted him. His body cringed as he slowly hoisted himself up, trying to grope around for whatever support he may find in the shadowy place.

Finally, he got up to his feet after using a cold, metallic chair that he had found just a bit ahead of him. The lad blinked rapidly, trying to distract himself of the searing pain that crept through the muscles of his head. Whatever was left in his nigh empty stomach threatened to make its way up his throat, but he steeled himself in holding it back.

Focus. Calm yourself. Where is this place?

As his obsidian eyes acquainted itself with the dark around him, he was able to make out objects and furniture. Multiple chairs lined up against three rectangular tables placed next to each other, and cabinets with bottles, vials, beakers, and flasks stood by a far side by the wall. A faint scent of a chemical permeated the air, and a mannequin of sorts was placed in a container standing by another side. Boxes and crates were lined up near it.

The lad's curiosity got the better of him, and he began crawling towards the mannequin. As he reached it, the effigy was placed in some sort of metallic sarcophagus. Minato's hand moved to touch the figure, but his touch was obstructed by a smooth, flat surface. Glass, he presumed. His hand moved to the side of the container, and from the feel of the characters his hand passed on an engraving of some kind, he made out the line "MODEL G5: ASW LBR-031". On the floor near the figure were shapes of various tools, which he was able to make out in the dark.

I smell oil . . . gunpowder . . . and alcohol?

Minato conjectured that this must be some sort of laboratory or anything of similarity, as heavily hinted by the multiple items he had taken notice of. He then shook his head, still disoriented from the throbbing headache that pounded on his skull. Eyeing what looked like a door that lead out of the place, he staggered towards the promising exit.

While he moved towards the door, he felt weight in his right hand and discovered that he had been carrying something—and from its balance, it seemed to be long. It was cold to the touch, and as he felt the length of the side, he could feel sharpness touch the skin of his fingers. Branch-like swirls that tangled themselves projected into a semi-circle on a side what seemed like the handle.

Curious as to what was in his hand and itching to finally make light of where he was (no pun intended), he made his way to the door and pulled.

Light streamed from the doorway, and Minato faced a long hallway with steel walls all-round. Long cylinders of fluorescent bulbs lined up on the ceiling, but were turned off. An eerie green completely illuminated the path, even if there was no light source whatsoever. The lad then focused on the weighty object on his hand, and smiled grimly at a familiar sight to memory.

"A Walloon sword, huh . . . With the Latin inscription near the guard, I'd say this was grandfather's."

The blade gleamed brilliant ebony, almost like it was darkness incarnate. The basket-hilt was adorned with scarlet gems that eerily reminded the lad of blood, and a Latin engraving near the hilt.

Non omnis moriar, the lad spoke in his mind.

Not all of me shall die.

Nostalgia breathed on his mind for but a fleeting moment, reminding him of the days spent with his stern yet caring grandfather, learning knowledge mandatory to education, philosophies of life, combat, and the horrific truths of mankind—

No, this isn't the time. The lad briskly paced through the hall, intent on finding out where he was, who had taken him, and what was happening. It had only occurred to him now that he was drawing a blank as to events prior, and that wasn't a good sign of what could have transpired.

Minato walked on, until he reached an intersection that branched forward, to his left, and to his right.

"I can't gut-feel this. Gotta make observations first . . . "

He closed his eyes and drowned out any other distractions, ignoring the still persistent headache he had. The lad focused on any sort of sound he could hear, even the faintest. Tracing any of the sort could help him search for an active area, or even a person for that matter, which could provide him with much better clarity of the questions that muddled his mind.

However, he had to be cautious—he had an uneasy feeling that no one could be trusted for now.

Faint noises that resembled panicky screams and scrambling footsteps echoed far out from the path to the left, and the lad decided to race after it. Moving through the hall, he then found himself glancing to the side and seeing the translucent reflection of his figure.

And the sight stopped him dead in his tracks.

What . . . the . . .

Staring him back was the body of a child, seemingly around the age of seven, wearing a white shirt with a red tie under a black coat. His bottoms were outfitted with the same colored shorts to match his coat and spiked, white and blue soccer shoes. His blue locks, though shorter than he remembers, still dangled as a mess on top of his head. Obsidian eyes that were used to displaying no trace of emotion looked back in shock and disbelief. And to top it all off, the sword he held was totally out of place.

"You've gotta be kidding . . . what the hell is happening . . . ?! Graaahhhh!"

A wave of pain rocked his mind, making Minato collapse on his knees. He dropped the Walloon sword beside him, making a clanking sound as it did. He clutched his head in agony, and then a voice rang in his ears.

[Your new fate awaits you . . . Everything else has no meaning as of this moment.]

"What . . . do you mean . . . what's happening . . . wait, is that you?!"

[It matters not. But know this:]

[Do not run.]

[Do not hide.]

"Tch, you already know . . . I won't! Nnnngggghhh!"

[Hmph. Remember, I have given you a chance by means of a debt I owe. He gave you a choice, I presented you a chance. You wished for this. You sought this opportunity.]

"You don't have to . . . remind me . . . "

[Do not waste it.]

[I eagerly await the result. Do not disappoint me . . .]

"Rrrrrggghhhh!"

The vertigo then ceased, and Minato's breathing turned ragged as he was down on all fours on the floor. Drawing a last, deep breath to calm himself down, he then picked up the sword, and stood in front of his reflection once more.

I remember . . . what happened before. I . . .

". . . know what I should do."

The lad's visage wore a stoic face devoid of the swirling emotions he had displayed earlier, and he felt that his mind was now loads lighter, what with the burden on him lifted. He nodded to himself, and took a look through the glass—

The place he was in looked larger, and with the height from the ground, he surmised that he could be in the second floor of the building. He stared onward, and found that beyond the horizon lay a body of water that reflected the moon—

No. With the color scheme his eyes laid gaze upon, the whole place was something right out of a horror movie: the body of water distances ahead could be clearly seen with the crimson color that it had taken, and the moon shone with a pale, yellowish hue. Everything glowed with an emerald tint, and smoke wafted from somewhere in the building.

Suddenly, the ground rumbled, and a gut-wrenching roar echoed from down the hall. It sounded metallic and furious, and it incited multiple screams of despair from whatever number of people where in its location. The lad steeled his resolve, and then dashed through the halls.

Soon, the rumblings became more frequent, and smoke began to cover the place like mist in a mountain. The boy kept moving onward, ready to face whatever monstrosity it was that growled and bellowed with such ferocity.


The hall led the boy into a more open area that was full of debris. Dust fell from the ceiling as the place continued to shake. Flames danced around in multiple areas, increasing the temperature in the area. Multiple bodies lay around, mostly mutilated and beyond recognizable.

In the center of the large room was something definitely not human. It wore dark robes that looked like an army officer's, and possessed a one-handed sword that looked like an elongated knife. A beak-like projection capped its top, with two holes on either side. Attached below it was something that looked like half of a bear trap, posing as some sort of jaw. Coffins hovered around it, dangling near the beast with the chains that connected them.

What made Minato shudder with anticipation was not the appearance of the monster that glared at him, but the fact that he knew who or what it actually was.

"Thanatos . . . No. It would be more appropriate to call it Death in this state, huh . . . "

"Here, this oughta do it!"

The boy turned to his side and found the origin of the voice—a brown-haired man in a lab coat, who wore it all too shabbily, hiding behind rubble and madly scrambling across a still working computer console. His head looked like a messy bird's nest, his stubble could be clearly seen, and the bags under his eyes made the fearful look on his face reach higher levels.

The man rapidly raced his fingers through the console, swiftly pressing needed keys. The bank of consoles glowed bright, and then the monster ushered out a nasty snarl. The boy turned to look at the behemoth, and he saw smoke rise from it. On closer inspection, it was hooked onto multiple wires, each strapped on its limbs and torso.

The creature was writhing in anguish, clutching its head and wailing. Its form seemed like it was being ripped apart by invisible hands from multiple points and directions. Its cries echoed through the night, louder than any of its earlier shouts.

"O-okay, this can work! Its powers are beginning to split apart; and the metaphysical form . . . A-alright. I have to start the recording while I still can . . ."

"Wait . . . "

This was the scene Ikutsuki tampered with!

The recording with which they had entrusted themselves to the task of ridding the world of the 13 Shadows, done by the father of the girl who had done everything just to shed light upon the layers of lies she had been surrounded with—

Eiichiro Takeba was filming his supposed final words then and there.

The quaking didn't cease, and the sound of screams, all filled with nothing else but anguish and terror, accompanied the recording Eiichiro was filming—and hearing them sound exactly as he had back during the vacation at Yakushima sent shivers down his spine.

Minato looked on, ignoring the pained screams of the remaining people madly scrambling for the exit and the roars of Death. The words Eiichiro spoke were completely as is in the version of the video which was untouched. Yukari had managed to show them the real copy of it after Ikutsuki's betrayal.

"Speak of the devil . . ."

Minato's gaze fell upon a figure, draped in the same lab gown, slowly walking up towards Eiichiro. In his right hand gleamed a revolver, and his expression was set on a sickly grin. His spectacles reflected light, and hid the otherwise supposedly maddened eyes he held.

The man brought up his right arm, and pointed the gun at the unsuspecting Eiichiro.

"It would be unwise to proceed with this, Takeba. You know that all this is our goal!" his sickly smile was still plastered on his face, and this expression ironically pointed out to Eiichiro that the pointed gun was no joke.

Eiichiro frowned. "Ikutsuki! We have to stop this madness! Death is not the answer to anything, and ending the lives of the many is just massacre—this isn't some noble sacrifice!"

"Oh, but it is, my friend! Why do you fail to see the beauty of this phenomenon?! In the end, we're just postponing the wonderful utopia that we are to embrace upon the arrival of Mother Nyx! Why lessen the haste of a divine blessing upon us?!" Ikutsuki's expression remained undaunted; in fact, his smile was now in full bloom.

"Divine blessing, my ass! All it's going to do is wipe off life off of the face of this planet! I'm not letting you, or anyone else do so! You know how much I've been against the experiment the Kirijo head put up, and I'll defy your unholy wills to the end!" Eiichiro balled his fists, coupling the anger he showed on his face.

"You seem to be misunderstanding this. I hold in my hand the same blessing Mother Nyx shall soon bless us with—albeit more crude, if you'll put it. I suggest you change your mind now and receive the glory as we all shall once she comes with the call of the Harbinger. Otherwise . . ." Ikutsuki pulled back the hammer, and readied his index finger upon the crescent that would decide life and death.

". . . You leave me no with no other choice. Hmph, and a waste of good talent at that. Such a pity." Ikutsuki spat.

"The Harbinger is being split apart as we speak, due to your meddling. The Fall will be pushed back, no doubt, but I will see to it that it still happens."

The madman stared at Eiichiro with a more maddened smile, utterly devoid of any good intention whatsoever. Eiichiro offered back a glare at Ikutsuki, still holding defiance in his eyes. Suddenly, Ikutsuki's eyes lit up, an epiphany dawning on him.

". . . I see. Ohohohoho."

"What are you on to, devil?" Eiichiro questioned.

"Such hurtful words, Takeba! Take me as the angel who's about to send you to the arms of Mother Nyx earlier than anyone else here—once you're gone, I'll then be the guardian angel for your daughter! Oooooh, I can't wait for the future she'll be having, together with the promising Kirijo heiress! Ahahahahaha!"

"—! Don't mess with me, Ikutsu—"

Eiichiro's retort was cut and left to die in his throat by the gunshot sound that resounded. Blood trailed down his right cheek, with wound caused by the bullet that grazed past him.

"Of course I'm not messing with you. I am taking this idea into serious consideration. What irritates me most right now is your meddling, Takeba. I missed that shot on purpose. And you know what they say . . ."

Ikutsuki moved the gun's aim, and locked it onto Eiichiro's torso. "Whatever happens but once, does not occur twice."

Minato froze. Time paused.

This is one of the deaths I'm supposed to stop. But, do I have to? How much will this change the future? Dammit, I—no.

The lad sighed, and remembered the resolve he had already brought with him here, in the time of 10 years prior to the end of everything. He remembered the longing Yukari had for her father, and the things she had shared about him. He was truly special to Yukari, and would he rob Yukari of the opportunity to once more live with the man who could always be there for her?

Seconds flew like minutes in Minato's eyes. Ikutsuki's finger moved slowly as it coiled around the trigger. At that point in time, he made the first change he'd ever do in his quest to undo what must be.

He rushed towards Ikutsuki, and when the two had finally seen him, Minato made a beeline for Ikutsuki's hand that held the gun.

*Swish!*

Minato spun and slashed his sword. And as he looked back onto Ikutsuki, he saw terror paint the man's face for the first time.

"Huuaaa . . . aaaaaaaaahhhhhhh!"

In place of his right hand was a bloody stump, and both gun and hand were flying into the air. Minato then moved in, and planted the butt of his sword handle into Ikutsuki's abdomen, effectively knocking him out.

"W-what just . . . ?!"

Eiichiro stared at him, completely flabbergasted at what had happened in front of him in a mere frame of three seconds. Suddenly, pain and sleep gripped him, and all that he saw last was a blue-haired lad holding a strange sword with him.


"Sorry for that, Mr. Takeba . . ."

Minato hid their bodies behind separate rubbles, and once they were secure, he turned his attention towards Death.

The being, supposedly the Harbinger of the Fall, continued on to roar in pain and anger as it was continuously torn apart by the machinery that surrounded it.

This is my chance.

Everything could be redone. The world will be at peace. There won't be a need for any kind of Seal this time around.

His goal was set. The die had been cast, and there was no way he could turn away from this. He had brought this upon himself, and it was time that he begin the chaos that he was to unleash into the tale of how the world was to end—

The tale that he had been living through for so many times now, that he could no longer recall how many times he had tried something else, only for the same thing to happen over and over, and still end up as the Seal.

Here I go.

Minato then rushed out in front of it, and prepared an offensive stance. He pulled out a card of his pocket, similar to what was lastly given to him by his "visitor".

He threw the card into the air, and then the object shattered into an uncountable mass of shards that were colored blood red. A large magic circle appeared underneath Minato and Death, filling the whole area with auras of red, black, and white.

Chains burst out of the ground, and tied themselves onto Minato and Death. The creature growled in anger, writhing against the links. Minato stood still, completely unfazed by what was transpiring. He was literally face to face with Death, and he could feel its raw power emanate at multiple points around his body.

"I am thou; thou art I. Ye who came from the depths of the Sea of Souls, become the Darkness that shall slumber within this mortal—"

The chains pulled on the two, bringing them closer to one another. Death's image kept morphing, with its appearance changing into multiple masked entities that Minato was certainly familiar of.

The Magician. The Priestess. The Emperor. The Empress. The Hierophant. The Lovers. The Chariot. Justice. The Hermit. Strength. Fortune. The Hanged Man.

And finally, Death.

Memories flooded Minato's mind, reminding him of all that he's done. His time with the friends he never expected to make, the battles fought, the tears shed, the laughter shared—all of it overwhelmed his mind.

No, I won't hesitate. I've got a job ahead of me, and a future to give my friends.

"—and seek to burden this soul for all time; never escaping, never defying, for ye shall become one with I!"

Death and Minato collided together, and a large surge of energy blasted through the roof. Green light flooded in, and the bright, yellow moon was visible ahead. Black pools of fluid began to amass everywhere, multiplying at a quick rate. The blobs of black began to engulf everything, and then began rising higher and higher into the sky—

The Tower of Demise proudly erected itself upon the ground of the facility.

The large amounts of energy dissipated, and at its center lay a young lad, barely conscious. His hair was darker than the night, and his skin was deathly pale. A sword lay by his side, and Roman numerals were seared on both of his arms.

"I . . . did it . . . the first step's . . . done . . ."

And sleep took him.


" . . . Too late, huh."

Takeharu Kirijo carefully eyed the crater that now took the place of the research facility that his father had commissioned for the very dark purpose he had conceived.

Hours ago, Takeharu had received a message that the facility was in red alert, and that the final stage of his father's experiment had gone asunder. They had unleashed a beast that was outside the control of any mortal, and all it had done was wreak death upon the place. He rushed to the location with the best guards he had and multiple ASW units, all in a desperate attempt to try and rescue the resident researchers.

And even the father he had come to loathe for the lofty goals that wished for the extermination of the human race.

To his dismay, they were too late. What awaited them as they crossed the way towards Port Island was a gigantic tower that seemingly had no end as it climbed the sky. Minutes after they had seen it, the tower disappeared in a flash, and everything had turned back to normal—electronic devices worked, the night was devoid of its green hue, and water was no longer the color and consistency of blood.

So far, they had been able to rescue a few more scientists, managed to recover the bodies of the many deceased, and salvaged any other usable equipment that was still intact.

Takeharu moved through the location of what was supposed to be the main test center, and then spotted a brown-haired man he knew all too well.

"Takeba . . . ?"

The eye-patched man moved through the rubble and supported the man who had just regained consciousness. "Uugghhh . . . Mr. Kirijo, is that you?"

"Definitely me, Takeba. Hey, you! Get a medic over here! Takeba, can you stand?"

The man in the dirtied lab coat nodded his head slowly. "I can, thanks."

The medic came without much of a hitch, and moments later, Eiichiro began narrating the events to the Kirijo head.

"The combination of all the collected Shadows . . . in the end, it was far too much to for us to handle. They didn't bother to listen, and proceeded with the project anyway. We were kept inside the storage room for the duration of the test, and luckily a quake broke us out when a sinkhole swallowed us and brought us into a basement path."

"I see," Takeharu replied. "Where was grandfather during all this?"

Eiichiro hung his head down, a grim look cast on his face. "He . . . was turned into a Shadow and engulfed by the creature he so wanted to call down. Most of the other scientists were, as well. I'm sorry I couldn't do anything more on my part. I tried to stop them, but I . . . dammit!"

Takeharu placed a hand on Eiichiro's shoulder. "It's not. You did what you could. The lives of those who worked under the Kirijo Group were always far more important than the goals with which we ourselves had concerned with. No goal is ever worth sacrificing a life over; and the lesser lives are put on the line, the better."

The scientist nodded firmly. ". . . I understand. Thank you. By the way, have found Ikutsuki?"

Takeharu nodded. "We have. According to the testimony of another personnel, and the amount of evidence we hold, we have found out of his addiction with the phenomenon my father tried to bring about. Another saw of what he tried to do to you before escaping, and we'll hold him for what he's done."

Eiichiro smiled sheepishly and sighed in resignation. "I can't thank you enough, Mr. Kirijo."

Takeharu stood up and dusted himself. "Now, get yourself rechecked over by the van of the medics. I'm sure your family's worried."

Eiichiro bowed. "Yes, I will—"

"Mr. Kirijo, sir!"

Takeharu and Eiichiro were interrupted in their conversation by the arrival of one of the guards Takeharu had brought with him. "What is it?" Takeharu asked.

"We found a boy by the rubble over there. The kid looks roughly seven or eight of age, and we have no identification or possible links whatsoever on the lad. We also found a sword on his personage."

"A boy, you say?" Takeharu mused. Eiichiro's reaction was much different, however. "Wait, a kid? Could it be . . . Can you take me to him?"

"Of course. Right this way."

Takeharu's curiosity was then attracted to the sudden shift in attitude that Eiichiro displayed. The man, who was just somber moments ago, was now riddled with confusion and queries that obviously showed on his face.

Is that kid linked to any of this mess?


"Hey, you awake?"

"Uuuhhh . . ."

For what seemed like the umpteenth time, Minato grumbled in protest as he was brought into a rude awakening. As he tried to rise up, his body refused to cooperate and answered him back with a wave of pain from broken bones, sore muscles, and multiple bruises all over him.

"Well, I'll take your groaning as a 'yes'."

Still lying down, Minato looked up to see girl who looked about seven or eight, with auburn hair fixed into a high ponytail and chocolate eyes. Silver barrettes adorned her hair, forming the Roman numerals for the number 22.

The girl smiled mystically at him, while all he could do was gape at her.

"So, how does it feel to be the new God of the Night, Minato? Or would it be proper to call you 'Nyx', now?"


AFTERWORD

I've been working on this for a while, and it's absorbed me over the past weeks. Velvet Room Inc is not abandoned, I assure you, and has had its schedule pushed back since I'm in the middle of heavy revisions and tweakings. I've improved my writing somewhat through practice, and thus I decided to fix the quality of my works in relation to my current abilities. Please bear with me.

So, where'd this idea crawl out of? No idea, to be honest. I read some Lovecraft lore, started writing, and surprisingly, it ended up looking like this. Well, looks like we'll both be waiting for the development! Hope this piques your curiosity.

Peace out.

~Arsony