6 / 8 / 2016

He comes roaring, his screams thunderous and his laughter contagious. My upper body lurches forward and I end up hunched over like a prowling tiger, as something unstoppable compels me to spread my mouth out into a wide smile. Teeth gritted, a hissing noise passing through the gaps in my teeth, I make a guttural noise as I acknowledge that the pain stabbing through my eyesockets is a feeling I wouldn't trade for the world.

Thou art I, and I am thou.
I come from the Sea of thy Soul.
I am Hell Biker, the Damned and Despised.

If the obese beast didn't resemble Kobayakawa enough, he does now. Utterly terrified, he rears backwards and groans like someone's buried their foot into his balls, but he tries to act all high and mighty regardless.

H͒ͧE ͨ͒̑D̆ͭ̂ESͯIͫ͋RE͂̒Sͭ̀ F̓O̚O͌ͮD̉̈́. A̽̔̌S̎͗ ͊ͧD̈̿̽O ͐W̄͋̿E ͥ̄A̋LL̆̈ͧ.̒ INͥ ͣ̅̈Y̑OŪ ͛̂Ć̉HIL͂͋DR̅̑͌E̔N H̀̀Eͦ ̈̀̽S̈͊ͫEES̑̔ A F͗̽ͧIN̊ͫẺ ̓̿F̒ͮ͊EASTͬ͒͐, OṄ͛̿E THͯ̀Ä̑ͩT̓ͯ̂ SH̋ͮ̂AL͆̔L EM͛̿̽P͊̏ȮẆ͂E̓ͯ̑R ̓H̿IM̍͊,͗̑ MORÉ͆̚ ͛THͪA͌N A͗̇NYTH̏̉Ï͋͗NG ͯ̽̄E̓͆ͯLSͣE. ̓͛ͥYǑ̄̓Ū̾Ȓ̍͌ ̆̈̈́B̃ͥ̓OD̓̚I̋̔ȄͦSͤ̇ ͋̇ͣÁͧ̉R̓E͊ VͩAL͌̈ͫUA͋͐B͋L̃Eͬ ̇ȈͩN̓̆̆ ͩ̎ͧWA̓YS̅ ͊ͪ̈́YOͭU CANNͥ̓ͪOͨ̓T̑̽ POSS̽ͣI͗͊ͫBLÝ͐̅ ́̎͛CO͒͆MPR͐ͤEͦḦ́̚Ĕ̌ͪND̎ͥ.̈̿ ́GIVͤE̊ͤ̋ ̍̄YOͫ̍ͪUR̿̀͆SELͯ͑VES ̐ͮ̃A̔̆͗S SLͨ̓Ò̿̋P͗̃ͪ,̏̔ͣ OR B̎Ë́̍̎ ̔̋̽F̑Ȇ̆ASͬTͣ̒̊E̊ͫD̽ Aͩ͂̚LͦI̅̆VE.ͩ̑̇

"Like hell," growls Niijima.

TḦ͂EN ̽Iͥ S̿̉HAͣ́L̂ͧL̀ͭ͆ P̓Ȃ̚RTA͗Ǩͣ̒E̅̅ͤ ͛Oͧ͆̑F̆ ͊̅YO̓̀ŬR ͒LUNGS,̊ͥ Fͨ̓ͯI͛RS̓̇́Tͨ.̆͗ͫ

The Hell Biker's maw chatters wildly as his laughter echoes across the lobby. Wheels made of fire rev and burn the floor. I hear an outcry from both Niijima and Maruki, their voices so faint neither might as well exist, as I work to abusing my station as co-leader of the team as quickly as possible.

The Hell Biker rears upward, riding on a wheelie as the Kobayakawa Manikin froths at the mouth and screams. The blob lunges, as does the Biker, and when the two collide I feel as though I've been punched by a fist as large as a car. When I'm able to open my eyes, I see that everyone (myself included) has been carried by the shockwave and collided with the walls at our backs. I see Niijima pulling herself up from the ground, turning to me with an expression that might've frightened me once. Then we hear Kobayakawa scream, and we both wrench our heads to the sight of what appears to be a mound of flesh that met with a bomb.

When you kick someone in the stomach really hard, momentum carries the arms and legs of your victim upward as their torso crumples. Same principle here. Though instead of a kick, it's a supernatural bike going thrice as fast as the sound barrier can comprehend; instead of Kobayakawa clutching at his gut in pain, it's Kobayakawa's belly being cratered open from the impact, his intestines pooling out as his five stomachs release steam. It's his everything in the region between the top of his head to the space between his legs being sent backwards, the mounds and folds that count as his shoulders and waist bending inward into themselves.

YO͎͔U̙̝͈ A̲R̩ͅE̙̳ ̘̝N̰O̗̖T SṮ̪R̗̟̦ON͙G,͈̞̮ I ̤ͅA̝M!̼̞ ͔IT͙ IS̙ ̰͇I͕ W͈HO̞̣ͅ WI͕̝LL̤͎̯ ͎̟̣SU̳̙͖R͇VIṾE̮̼!̳!̝͇̜ I̱T IS̞̩̳ ̗I̪ W̞̖HO ͚ͅṢ̭HA̗͇LL̝̗̺ D̲EV͔̻͇OU̱͕̝R, NOT ͙̠WH̥͓͔O͔ S̩̱HAL̘̝L ̹̟B̬̥̥E ̘DE̟VO̞U̪̻̫R͉̬Ḙ̼ͅD!̣ IT ̜̗IS ͕I̝ WHO SHAL͓̱L̞̗ B͈̹E ̰̹͚FO̙U̥̱͉ND̯̺ ̮̼ͅWO̝RTHY̠ OF SEEING HIS TREASURE!͉!͓ H҉E̷ S͘ĘE̡K͘S̨ ͟T͡O̴ C̕ǪN͘S͞U̡M͟E͘ Y̸O͝U̵R͡ ͞F́L̢E̢S̢H. H̶E T̢H͢ŔO͞ẂS̀ M̡E T̡O Y͠O͡U̸ B҉E͘C͡A̶U͠S̛E̶ ͜H͘E̶ ̧B͢ÉL͜I͡E̛V̛E͜S̨ ̛Ì ̨A͞M̀ ̵T̡R҉A͜S͞H̀ ͜T̸O͡ ͟B̢E̶ ̵T͜H̷R҉O҉ẀN̨ ̴A̵N̶D̀ ͢F̷O̢R͢G̕O̶T҉T͡E̡N̴ ̷A̢ŃD͢ ̡F́ÉD̷ ̴T͠Ò ͢T͡H̷O̸S͡E̷ ̢W͜H̷O͠ ̶W͡O̷U̴L͡D͘ ҉U͘S͡E͝ ̀T̛H̛Ę ҉M͞E͞A̵T̨ ̢O͘F҉F͜ ̕M͘Y͘ ̷B̢O͟N̨E͡S͠ ̨ĄS̨ ҉ŞT̕R̴E͡N̶G̶T̢H̴.͝ ̧I͜ ̀S̴H͞A̛L҉L̸ ̷P̀R̶O̕V̡E̶ ̸I҉ ̛D͟E̵S͢ÈR͘V̢E̴ ͞T̶H҉È ͘N̛A͜M͝E҉ ͠S͘A͢K̨A̷H́A̶G͡I͘.͘

As Hell Biker disperses Kobayakawa screams, his elongated arms clutching at his spilled guts as he rolls on his back and weeps horribly. As he screeches and writhes and bitches about how much pain he's in I turn to the cat, "What's his weakness?"

"He's weak to...wow, a lot of things, actually. We'll just have to pile on until he dies," It turns to me, something like horror and awe in its large eyes, "Since when were you able to summon multiple Personas—!?"

"Does he have any resistances!?" cries Niijima.

"Nothing! No resistances, just don't let him roll over you, I guess."

"Johanna!"

Niijima all but leaps into the air, landing squarely on the seat of her Persona. Johanna's contented face remains utterly still. The raging nuclear whirlwind over all our heads makes me wonder just how long my partner (partner?) has kept all this anger bottled up inside herself.

The bright blue light storms across the lobby and after a searing white light, I see a mushroom cloud. My insides feel completely liquefied as my skin rings and tingles, but as soon as I remember Victory Cry I'm able to keep myself intact. Wall of smoke utterly coats the fucking lobby as Niijima sits in the driver's seat. Caught between fuming and wondering just what the hell she'd done.

"Uh...," Maruki swipes away smoke from his face, "i-is it dead...?"

Cat sniffs, "Yeah. I think so."

"You sure?"

"I don't sense any vitals," it shrugs.

Takamaki pulls me up from the ground, asking me, "Okay, what did you just do?"

"You summoned the Biker," Maruki mutters, terrified. "Y-you...how...!?"

"OH SHIT HE'S NOT DEAD, EVERYBODY—"

H̵̘̒R̵̮̊Ă̸͇A̵͓͔̮̐̌͘Ḁ̷̼̳͘Ả̸̞̪A̶̜͂̂Ä̵̜̬̱̱̥͒̍̿Ḁ̶̗̭̝͉̟̈́͌͂̇̌G̵͇̓H̵̢̛̰̩̼̩̉́͒H̶̭͌̔̚H̴̢̟͈̼̬̬̲́̂̏̒̌͗̋̄͊͊̀̚͜H̴̱̦̱̲͎͇̭͖͉̩͍̽̿͋͗̄͆̇͝͠!̴̙̙̣̞̯̺̥̅!̶̧͖̤͖͍͉̭̬̿̒̉͊̃͊͐̐̎̈͘!̴̡̩̥͖̫̮̗͎͎͒̇͗̅͛͆̇̌͆͠ͅ

Kobayakawa pulls himself through the goddamn smoke, his skin melting off in lumps of fat and muscle as vapor pours out of the openings in his flesh. He is without a lower body, crawling by his arms and dragging his insides along the ground with blood that evaporates faster than it can spill. His lower jaw, teeth, and eyeballs have sloughed out of place entirely so he's left moaning like a skinless eyeless legless fucking giganto-zombie that ate too many fucking Big Bang Burgers for its own good. Niijima looks like she's about to lose her fucking nerve as I grip my mask and very nearly call out a name—

"Cendrillon!"

— only for Yoshizawa's Persona to send a dozen pristine-as-hell, belonging from the fucking Crusades, clean and bloodless high-grade English-steel Zweihanders from out of goddamn nowhere and nail Kobayakawa's half-lumbering corpse down into the ground. Since when she was able to do that I have no fucking idea, and judging from the look on her face she doesn't seem to have any idea, either.

It's Takamaki who finishes Kobayakawa off, right then; with a "Salome!" and multiple dozen fireballs. Pinned to the ground, he cannot do much but squirm and cry, releasing a scream that Niijima surprisingly doesn't turn away from. Despite it being obvious the sound is causing her insides to bend in ways she never imagined they ever could.

When it's done, all that's left is a pile of ashes that was once a the cognition of a fat, cowardly man who wasted his life being so goddamn afraid all the time. And a crumpled-up ball of paper that was, remarkably, untouched by literally anything we'd done to it.

Takamaki ends up collapsing to her knees. Conscious, but exhausted, and heaving out all of herself. I place a hand on her shoulder and all she does is nod at me.

"You okay, senpai?" Yoshizawa asks Niijima.

"Y-yeah, yeah, I...," she shakes her head. "Is this how it's always been, for you guys?"

"...yes."

"Kazuya," it's Maruki's turn to check up on me.

"I'm fine."

"Your eyes and nose are bleeding..."

And my bones can barely hold my body upright. And my head hurts like a motherfucker. And I'm beyond pissed off, yet somehow euphoric, and even maybe a little...nostalgic?

I wipe the gore off my face and march away from him, approaching what once was the body of a cognitive representation of my principal. I kneel down, pushing wafts of smoke away from myself, and I sift my hands through the ash. And as I pull the ball of paper out from the cinders, I realize that my sadistic ass might have actually helped us this time around.

"You're a Wild Card," says the cat, utterly transfixed, as though he's already come across the Treasure.

"A what...?" mutters Yoshizawa.

He laughs, eyes still fixed on me, "A Wild Card! Y-you can wield multiple Personas! How!?"

I shake my head and shrug, "I don't fucking know," as I unfurl the map and stretch it outward.

"Is that...normal?" asks Niijima.

"No! Wild Cards only appear, like, once or twice per generation. Except in the nineties. That was a weird time. But still! Because most people only have one heart, most can only carry one Persona! You took in the Hell Biker's powers as your own! It kicked your ass and once you proved yourself it gave itself to you!"

Takamaki narrows her eyes, "Wait, so...does this mean he technically has a split personality, or something?"

"Not necessarily! Despite its different form it's still a reflection of his heart! Just...one aspect of it, I guess."

"My God...," Maruki puts a hand to his head. "Different facets of the self, manifesting as utterly different cognitive entities..."

"You can't write a research paper on this shit," I growl. "Assholes everywhere will just make things worse, if word about the Vortex World gets out."

Maruki looks like he wants to say something; wisely, he keeps it to himself and turns away.

"Since when could you do something like this...?" asks Niijima.

I recall the first night I'd ever summoned Satanael. Lying, collapsed in on myself in the sand, a man in a suit planting a mask over my eyes and filling me with the power to change the world. "Dunno."

"Hikawa-"

"We should get back to the Safe Room." I turn away from her, entering the halls while spreading the map open wide. "And it's Joker, remember?"

It's at this point two things become apparent to me. The first being I had literally no plan in case everything we'd done to the Kobayakawa Manikin ended up burning the map into cinders. And two, the alarm isn't even ringing, and no flies are coming to apprehend us.

We return to the Safe Room and I clear out an entire shelf, pinning the map of the whole floor up against it with some spare tape we found in a toolbox. It's yellowed and frayed at the edges, some holes here and there wherever we find folds, but otherwise it's undamaged. It's an exquisitely detailed map, replete with the routes Kaneshiro's soldiers take across this floor of the bank. Every single room bears a name. And the one fucking room with a bigass red circle on it is labelled SECURITY ROOM. Beyond it lies a circular elevator labelled ENTRYWAY TO TIER TWO, with bright red text in permanent marker saying DEVOUR OR BE DEVOURED.

"Seems your theory wasn't entirely off-base...," I tell Niijima.

"It's a trap," she says, arms folded. "Obviously, it's a trap, but...I have concerns about what the cognitive Kobayakawa had said."

"About us being fattened up, right? Damn. Who's to say this is even a proper map of the place? What if he's directing us to some deathtrap he's prepared in advance? Likely another one of his men..."

Niijima narrows her eyes, "Did...did he hear us from here, and...?"

"No," says the cat. "The Palace Ruler is completely unaware of anything that happens in a Safe Room. He can't have heard us."

Niijima grits her teeth, putting a hand to her chin. "If this map can be trusted, which it probably can't be, we have to go through the security room if ever we're supposed to even have a shot at getting the Treasure."

"This map is still our only lead, shit. Shit. I don't know what to do. Flies are out there. Every single time we confront one of Kaneshiro's stooges we attract attention to ourselves. For all we know he's out there right fucking now, prowling the premises."

"Would we be able to face them?" Yoshizawa asks the cat. "The flies out there, would you say we're strong enough?"

"I think we all are. At least on a united front. Still, we can't afford to have Kaneshiro catch wind of us. Considering he can strike at Joker's weaknesses with ease, it'll take all our effort and then some to subdue him...but we're trying to keep him alive, this time around, right?"

I grin, "Doubt anybody'd blame us if plans change—"

"Absolutely not," growls Niijima. "I'll accept self-defense, but don't expect me to just allow you to murder this man without trying other options."

Fucking cops and their daughters. "We have his attention. Seems a shame not to capitalize on it."

"We're not. Killing. Anyone."

"Yet?"

Teeth grit, eyes turn to daggers. Takes her a second before she can compose herself enough, "I told you why we can't! I told you that if we do there'll be a power vacuum, that innocent people's lives are in jeopardy if we act recklessly! If you do this, then the only solution you have to stopping it is to find every single family under Kaneshiro and put them down, too!"

I turn to her, my expression utterly unreadable. Within seconds she has a face on which tells me, she understands exactly what I'm thinking.

"A-are you saying...?"

"I don't think the map can necessarily be trusted," Maruki says suddenly, bringing us out of the tension if only for a little bit. "But I think it's an acceptable indicator of where we actually do need to go."

"Makes you think that?" I ask him, not taking my eyes off Niijima for even a second.

"Like Kobayakawa had said. Those who would seek Kaneshiro's Treasure...must consume, or be consumed. And if he's actually trying to fatten you up...I think that Kaneshiro wants us, on some level, to reach his Treasure."

"Why would he want that?" asks Takamaki. "Kamoshida's Shadow was willing to fight us and risk his existence just to keep his Treasure intact."

"He doesn't necessarily want us to steal it, I'd say. He wouldn't go that far. Joker, you said something about how he bears a...hunger. A hunger, out of necessity. That he does what he does, because he has to, correct?"

She turns to face him, so I let myself as well. "Seems a fair conjecture."

"Devour, or be devoured...the cognitive Kobayakawa's wording lends itself towards him deliberately casting a path for us directly towards his Treasure. I think he wants to fight us. He sees us all not really as a challenge...but, like he said, as a feast, I suppose.

"Well, that's comforting," Takamaki folds her arms.

"After Joker killed one of his cognitive soldiers he immediately arrived on the scene, but left a cognitive version of one of his workers in his place, and handed him a map. Rather than staying behind to watch us, or just leaving the cognitive Kobayakawa alone in the middle of the lobby, he handed him a map and left him there. The cognition said that if we want to reach the Treasure, we must indulge our most monstrous appetites. What if that is a statement of fact? What if Kaneshiro wants us to-to just kill whatever's in front of us to reach the Treasure?"

"And then at the very end eat us?" Yoshizawa growls in disgust.

"There's no way to say for certain that this map isn't just a way to lure us to our deaths, but..."

I shake my head. "We can't just assume he's leading us to his Treasure. It's borderline suicidal as far as Shadow-selves are concerned."

"I think there is some credence to that theory...," says Niijima, looking down contemplatively.

"Do tell."

"When you brought me into the Palace, after I summoned my Persona, Kaneshiro...transformed, and said he longed to see beasts of a similar nature stand against him. On some level, he may want to be challenged in this way."

"Why would he do that? If we defeat him, we steal his Treasure, and all this comes crashing down," Yoshizawa counters. "Would he be so willing to risk us overthrowing him?"

"Assuming Bishop and Queen's argument rings true, it's entirely possible he's confident we won't be able to beat him," says the cat. "That along the way we'll just die at the hands of another Manikin, or one of his little soldiers, or at his hands. He's gluttonous; perhaps even if we kill whatever's in our way he figures that if we reach him, he can just consume us anyway. Maybe he likes food that can fight back?"

"I don't like any of this, too many unknowns," I grit my teeth.

"Neither do I," Niijima sighs. "But...it might very well be the closest we have to a path."

I face Maruki, "Do you have a grasp on what skills you're capable of?"

"I...I think I do. It took me some time to adjust myself to it, but...," he closes his eyes, his hands to his head, "I can boost your strengths, your reflexes, your magical attacks, and your defense...but my spells work best when applied only to one individual person each."

"Is there more he can do?" I turn to the cat.

"He'll only get stronger. But his powers, yours too, they're like a muscle. Constant exercise is needed to increase your strengths and compensate for your weaknesses."

"So we'll have to rely on that to get us out of a scrap," I shake my head. "We can assume something on par with the Matador or the Hell Biker awaits us, right?"

"Matador?" asks Yoshizawa.

"What're our chances, you figure?"

"Doubtful any of the Shadows or Manikins in here are comparable to the Matador or the Biker," Cat shrugs. "They're still gonna be pains in the ass, but judging from what we've seen so far, I can estimate that Kaneshiro himself will easily be our biggest hurdle here, primarily because of his ability to strike directly at your weaknesses. If the Kobayakawa Manikin's any indication, I think we'll be alright for the most part. Everything in-between won't necessarily be beaten easily, but if we're smart enough and ruthless enough, I'm hopeful we'll be able to soldier on through."

"You're hopeful."

"That's the best we can ask for."

I let out a hhhh noise, "We'll be making our way to the security room like lambs to the slaughter. We're most likely gonna be running headlong into another Manikin, at the very least."

"Manikin?" repeats Maruki.

"A cognitive creature that takes the form of a specific person known to the Palace Ruler," says the cat. "Being creatures of the Sea of Souls, they can manifest themselves as gods and demons as well, depending on how important they are to the Rulers themselves."

"Sea of Souls," Maruki shakes his head. "I-I'll have to ask you for the meaning of all these terms after we deal with this..."

"Wait, so," Niijima turns to the cat, "there are cognitive versions of actual people here, then..."

"This is the world inside his heart. As long as you've made an impression on him, you're bound to manifest as something in here."

"Would we see cognitive versions of us?"

"Perhaps. Hopefully you won't, though. I wouldn't wanna see a Manikin of myself in here, considering how messed up this guy is."

"We find another way as soon as we smell bullshit," I tell her. "Though to be fair, I already do."

"Maruki's abilities, combined with yours, should make short work of a good number of the challenges we face. Failing that, he'll at least be able to get the others outta dodge in case you're incapacitated."

"I think this is a risk worth taking," says Niijima.

I suppose if things go real shit I can just kill whatever's in front of us and hope a shot hits Kaneshiro.

I check my phone. I recall something that'd occurred back in Kamoshida's Palace, all those months ago. I and Sakamoto and Yoshizawa barged into a Safe Room there and the app said we could get back to the Entryway from there. Whether that means we'll be teleported outta here instantly, or just back where we last entered, I don't know. In Kana's Palace, for some bizarre fucked up reason, I didn't need to go into any Safe Rooms to teleport outta there.

Sure enough, the app says again:

LOCATION ACQUIRED: First Floor, Central Hall, Left Wing
Do you wish to exit the Palace through Entryway?
Y / N

"So we can safely teleport out of here as soon as we reach a Safe Room," I show everyone else my phone. "So our best bet, if shit goes south, is to dive into any Safe Rooms around us. Do they appear on the map?"

Niijima and Takamaki grab the paper and peer through every corner. The latter says, "No. Map doesn't even say this room exists..."

"So we'll have to keep the lookout for them ourselves," Niijima sighs. "Are there any signs that separate a Safe Room from a regular room?"

"Look for the hazy door," says the cat. "Otherwise I can sense wherever they are when I'm close enough."

"We'll just have to hope and pray there're Rooms close to wherever we'll need to go," Yoshizawa huffs. "This is horrible..."

"Let's make it a thousand times worse for them," I say to the rest of them. Then something clicks in place.

I pull up my phone, and ply through the folders in the app until I find something I didn't know I wanted until I needed it.

CLICK goes the cell, as within the Metaverse app a digital image of the map I'd just taken fades into existence from the black screen.

"It has a built-in camera?" asks Niijima.

"I just kind of guessed. I'll go ahead to scout the area, see if the map is accurate."

"Wait, what? What if you get found out?" asks Niijima.

"I'll kill whatever's in front of me and hope Kaneshiro isn't, I guess."

"You could be killed, he can strike your weaknesses! You can't just go out there alone! If anything, you shouldn't be going out there at all!"

"Honestly, it's best if she goes with you," says the cat. "She has a very high resistance to nuclear-type spells. Whatever monster you face out there, having her back you up will always be in your favor. Besides...Hell Biker is weak to nuke, too."

An overwhelming anger grabs ahold of me for just an instant, but I manage to bury it as soon as the word "What?" escapes my mouth.

"Wait, his other Persona's also weak to nuclear spells?" cries Niijima.

"Since fucking when-"

"Since you accepted it as a part of you, I suppose," the cat sighs.

"Goddammit all."

"Then I should go, too," says Maruki.

"That's half our fucking team, you think they won't notice?"

"If you can't fight, then you need to run. I can at the very least help you get out faster."

"We might draw a shitton of attention to ourselves...," I run a hand through my hair. "I don't know if I'm willing to take this risk."

"How about I go, with Bishop, alone?" asks Niijima.

"Are you sure about that?" Maruki questions.

I face her. "What if you run into something you can't kill?"

"Then he can help me get back here. His skills work best on singular targets, correct? If ever we encounter a problem we'll just have to escape. How effective do you figure his powers are?"

I admit plainly, "If he hadn't been there, the day we fought the Hell Biker, I would have died."

"I think that's an alright plan," says the cat. "It helps that Queen's Persona's a bike, so quick escapes should be no prob for her. What do you think, Bishop?"

Maruki just smiles, "I'd be happy to help any way I can."

Not that bad a plan, to be perfectly honest. Still. "I'm antsy about it. We have no form of communication."

Niijima narrows her eyes then, "Hold on."

She opens her phone and shuffles her finger over it.

"What're you doing?" I ask her.

"Just wait." She gives an annoyed look at her own cell, before suddenly her eyes light up and she grins. "If the app has a camera...why wouldn't it have a chatroom?"

She pulls up her phone to the rest of us and indeed, there's a built-in group chat function in the fucking Vortex World Navigator. Titled Confidant, it opens up an IM screen with a stark red background, texts appearing as square-shaped speech bubbles. Niijima had sent a few messages to herself to test things out.

"That's...really convenient," smiles Yoshizawa.

"Why didn't you think of that?" the cat sniggers.

"Forgive me for not expecting the situation to have gotten this bad," I grit my teeth and open my phone, as do the rest of us. The app, having recorded all our numbers from each of our phones, enables Niijima to include us all in a single group with ease.

「Queen:」 So it's functional, at least.

「Yoshizawa:」It even has emojis. Who even made this app?

「Joker:」ask Nyarly

「Panther:」? the squid thing in the corner?

「Bishop:」Whoever made this app worked to make sure its interface was, in every way, accessible to humans. That said you're sure this was made through completely supernatural means, Joker?

「Joker:」positive.

"We should get going," says Niijima, taking a photo of the map for herself.

"We'll message you in case we run into anything," says Maruki. "Just sit tight and stay safe."

"Good luck, both of you," says Yoshizawa.

The both of them nod back, Niijima exchanging a firm look with me in particular, before heading out. She's hesitant when she grips the handle of the door, and the instant she pulls it open she throws herself back into the thick of it with Maruki in tow.

Fifteen minutes of a painfully awkward silence later, a nagging question compels me to approach the cat.

"What?"

I grab it by one of its massive ears, then huddle over in a corner.

"Joker?" asks Yoshizawa.

"Private conversation," then I whisper into its ear, "Why do I need to enter a Safe Room before the app can teleport us out from the entryway?"

"You're asking this now?" it hisses back.

"Just tell me."

"Her Palace was unstable," it mutters quietly. "So much so you didn't need a Safe Room at all to get yourself back outta there."

"Good to know." Then I drop it. "You ready?"

"What were you talking about?"

Cat leaps upward, "Personal question. Nothing to worry about."

I see Takamaki giving me a frustrated look. "What?"

"I don't understand why you'd put your faith in her to help lead us."

Yoshizawa looks exhaustedly pissed. She would argue back, could she be asked to. I decide to answer for her, "Exactly as I said. I trust her to protect you all more than I could ever trust myself. Sooner or later I'll end up killing you."

"You've done a pretty good job of not doing that, so far."

"You haven't known me long enough."

"You haven't known her long enough either, and from what you and I both know, every time she's fucked something up we have to pick up the slack after her. You think things'll change now that she's part of us?"

I shake my head, "Kobayakawa held her future over her head. You and I both belittled her while she was already dealing with her extremely low sense of self-esteem. We're just as responsible for this shit as she is."

"Since when were you her biggest defender?"

"By no means does she have a flawless track record. That said, neither do I. If you're going to go by how badly people fuck up as a measure of how they shouldn't be leader, I'm the worst out of all of us."

She narrows her eyes at me, not out of anger but of concern, "What do you mean by that?"

Yoshizawa and the cat turn to me worriedly, as something harsh sinks into Takamaki's chest. "Despite everything she's done, she's also given us what might be perhaps the best chance we have to stop this man. Niijima's failures don't even compare to mine. You learned a day ago that I met the cat in someone's Palace. Remember?"

"You mean...you...?"

"They put me in jail for assault when they should've put me in for manslaughter, too."

I don't need to say anything more. She understands completely. Yoshizawa looks like she wants to reach out and put a hand over my shoulder, but my voice turns harsh and I redirect attention back to the true subject of discussion.

"I will admit I'm irritated by her. Even now, I don't particularly like her. That said, I think I can on some level respect her. She's passionate about her ideals. Goes about it in a no-nonsense way. She can be extremely annoying about it, but then again you don't see a lot of that from people these days. When she does something, she charges through and gives it everything she has. And she can fail, of course, she can fail horribly. But I'd rather put my faith in someone who tries and fails and is willing to try again, instead of someone who's only good at destroying things."

Takamaki looks like someone's punched her through her chest. Whatever she thought she'd have been able to say before isn't coming. Yoshizawa says nothing either, keeps her distance while putting on an expression that can't decide whether it's scared of me, angry at me, sad for me, or all at once.

The cat's face is as utterly neutral as a bobblehead cartoon creature's expressions are capable of being, and I keep a hand on the door, prepared to open it as soon as the other two are able to return.

Then our phones buzz and we pull them open to see what's in store.

「Bishop:」Good news is the map is reliable. Bad news is we have to fight, again.

Picture quality is fuzzy. Taken from a distance. But we see it; we see a large, hulking shape, undoubtedly another of Kaneshiro's cronies, made into a cognitive monster. Dark and tall, not fat like Kobayakawa; slender to the point where its ten-ish limbs resemble spiders' legs, quills and all. Even through the photo I hear a name pierce through my head: Baal Malage, Baal Malage, Baal Malage.

「Joker:」anyone seen you?

「Queen:」No. This creature's all that stands between us and the security room.

What the fuck does that even mean, no?

「Joker:」you haven't encountered any flies?

「Queen:」No guards, no security cameras, nothing. Just this one monster.

「Joker:」both of you get back to the SR. we'll see what we can do from here.

The ten minutes it takes for them to return is beyond anxiety-inducing, but they do manage it.

I pull the door open and Niijima throws herself back inside, exhaling loudly and clearly. "That...was unbelievably stressful..."

"You held your own rather well, all things considered," Maruki smiles. Then he turns to me, closing the door behind him, "Every detail on the map thus far is completely accurate. Every hall, every wing. We didn't have to fight anyone or anything whatsoever. We made it to him with virtually no issue, other than being afraid of what might've been around the corner..."

"And there was nothing at all?" Takamaki asks them. "No enemies!?"

"None. Except for the one we showed you. Only he stands in front of the security room." Niijima's eyes turn stern and fierce and fiery and I see a strength building up from within her I can't help but relish. "He does want us to reach him. Of this I'm sure. He fully intends to have his way with us when we reach him. Like Kobayakawa said, he wants to fatten us up before he devours us. Us killing the cognitive versions of his men is his idea of that."

"Devour or be devoured...," I shake my head. "He must be impossibly bored."

"He may see his hunger as a necessity," Maruki grits his teeth. "But on some level he does find joy in having us struggle to get to him. He figures you'd just kill all his guards like before, so he's sending out bigger and more powerful enemies for us to kill."

"And either way, he wins. Either his men kill us, or we kill them and get him all giddy for him to eat us."

"I can't get a bead on how strong Kaneshiro is compared to you all," says the cat. "I haven't come close enough to him to determine that much. But he's confident for a reason. We shouldn't be afraid to take several days to do this. If we're tired we'll have to go back to the real world and rest up for at least a day."

"Are you all ready to go?" I turn to everyone.

"I'm good for at least this person," says Maruki.

"Ready," says Yoshizawa.

Takamaki just nods.

Niijima says, "Let's do it. We've come this far."

I nod back. "Did you encounter any Safe Rooms along the way?"

"No. This appears to be our only totally safe place throughout this floor, at least."

"Alright, then. Let's hope this asshole's just as much of a pushover as Kobayakawa was."

Niijima narrows her eyes, "I wouldn't say Kobayakawa was a pushover..."

"Compared to Kamoshida's Shadow?" I smirk, "The Kobayakawa Manikin was hardly worth that much."

"No weaknesses?"

"...none."

"What about resistances?" asks Niijima.

"None, either, but...it doesn't look like it will go down without a fight."

"I suppose we'll just have to make do."

True to Niijima's testimony there are no flies that try to attack us. No alarms blaring all over the place. No buzzing or humming noises; the halls are utterly quiet and safe, save the bizarre fucking disgusting thing standing between us and the security room.

A dark, hairy body that's about thrice as tall as us. In a way it is shaped like a carrot; a large, round top that extends downward into a point, hives and open holes in its torso. Two slender, vaguely humanoid arms sprout from its sidez. Each about as long as the distance between your ceiling to your floor. Two shimmering feathered wings that are each large enough to be the wing of a small plane lie at his back, tattered and frayed at the edges. The feathers are black as night and those that haven't been ravaged or worn down look sharp enough to run across your forearm and sever your hand clean. Long dreads of white-grey hair stream down from the top of its head.

Its head is tremendously large, such that were this realm operating on the laws of gravity this monster's body would have been crushed from the neck down. It has bulbous red eyes, a fat nose, a scar running along its mouth. The creature looks tremendously familiar for reasons I cannot comprehend. The only way I can properly describe its voice, when it finally does speak, is that it does not sound like a fly.

It sounds like how an aurora looks.

Endlêss strëams of children who think too highly of themsèlves. Sůrrendȇř now or face ȇven ğrêater ẗorménẗs.

"Get out of our way." It's Niijima's turn to be brash. The tone she uses would easily intimidate other students, but would hardly do much to a creature such as this.

You should havȇ run. Thẻ day ỷou ēscaped this Pälace yőu coǘld have forgotten thȋs evȇr happened, ȧnd lived yỏǘr lȋvės ảs best yöu could befōre ẗhe end. Yet yoũ stand in dëfiance, lȉḱë fõols. And nỏŵ he has decideḋ yoȗ arë Game.

"Game...?"

A man in Kaneshirȏ's pöśitión is a huntër. Nȏt à šĉavenger, not prėỷ. He ḧas come to desḯrĕ ȃ Hunt thȧt would satisfy hǐs basest gluttonies. No ḿere murder ćan asŝuage his uŕges; slaughtering fȃmilies liké he had done before ǐs beneǎtḧ hȋm. Foreveř he wḯll be trappẽd ȋn this spiral of dĕsĭre. He must escälate ãnd risk, for iẗ gives him salvation. Killing me makés you worẗhier prey. Dyỉng means ỹỏȕ werẻn't worth a feast.

"Johanna."

She rips off her mask first.

A blindingly bright motorcycle blazes into the world, wheels emanating blue flame. Maruki, Takamaki, Yoshizawa and the cat all summon their Personas in kind, and we're all so fucking fortunate that these gigantic creatures born of our hearts are all large enough to fit in the middle of this hallway.

"We aren't his toys to play with," growls Niijima. "And we won't just lie down and let you all have your way with us!"

All the innocenẗs whō resĩde in Tǒkyo shall bẻ his toys to play with, in time. Ỷou are noẗ the fǐrst, nor the läst. Nǒr even tḣe youngesť. He ḣas sold infants and resold their remàins. Old or new méǎẗ měȃns notȟing to him, só loǹg ȁs ẗhere is a market. Ånd there is à markét. Ḧundreds watch childrȅn ānd bȃbîes having things inserted ĩnto them on ȧ dǎilý basis. Ŕesisẗäncè shall ónly destroy ȳour bodies ín wořse ẅăyŝ. Yȅt ỷou woüld continūe ủpon this pȃth.

"Question," I cut in.

Baal Malage turns to me. As does everyone else.

"Considering that Kaneshiro intends to kill us all by the end of all this, we can expect he won't interrupt any fights we have from now until we face him?"

Of couṙse not. Devoṳring ȋs a hölý ạņd sḁcred act. Yoư ạrȩ a meal hȩ inţends to savȩ for tḥe vẻry end.

I let out the biggest smile I've ever fucking had. "Satanael!"

And he comes now, full of unashamed bluster, and in an instant he opens the beast's upper body, splitting it right down the middle with a single shot up to its midsection—and you'd think, from there, the fight would have easily been won.

Because we had better things to do than have our goddamn path impeded by a fucking fly demon.

Then the the open gored bits grow wider, as though a portal has been opened. Then the wings flare, the feathers growing wider and sharper, and we hear it groan and it makes a noise that sounds like someone's laughter caught in a scream.

"S-Sukukaja!"

Despite my enhanced reflexes courtesy of Maruki, the beast is still absurdly fucking fast.

I'm about to say my Persona's name again but it grabs me, sinks the claws of two of its ten fucking arms through the skin round my fucking collarbone and I feel myself go through walls, I feel my fucking spine and ribs and shoulders and waist all splinter apart in ways I hadn't even thought were remotely possible and when the adrenaline fades juuust enough for me to feel the pain I realize he's thrown me back into the fucking lobby. And for all Maruki's benefits, for everything he was able to do to me and for me, all he did was make the pain last a helluva lot longer than it should have.

Baal Malage casts me down like a boulder and my body breaks apart even more than it had already. The agony seizes me and my mind and for a moment I'm keen to just lay down and die, but I make myself remember Victory Cry, and my arms and legs put themselves back together.

But it grabs my limp fucking arms, it lifts me up slowly by them both and though time has slowed to something of a trickle its voice remains clear.

Wé arę ḡods, bǫy. Therȇ is ňo victory to be hȁd. No ŝäľvătioň įn going againşt us. Bẽcömḙ á sląve or perish.

And it pulls, it pulls my arms from opposite ends, enough such that if it keeps pulling at the force it exerts I'll be armless in five fucking seconds—

Luckily, Niijima arrives in four.

"Johanna!"

It isn't a blast of nuclear hellfire which gets the fucking fly off me; Johanna runs the fucking thing over with the force of an eighteen-wheeler, sending it flying away and forcing it to unhand me and let my fucking maimed ass fall back down to the ground. Before long Johanna has it pinned to the goddamn wall and Niijima's revving her fucking wheels over the creature's crushed torso, causing it to geyser blood upon her and anything within ten fucking feet of them both. Though it screams and screams and screams Niijima keeps forcing herself through the goddamn grime—

—and through the pain it gets the bright idea to use its fucking massive arms again.

It grabs Johanna by the front cab and throws the bike off its collapsed torso, causing Niijima to lose her fucking grip and start flying through the air herself—

"Adam!"

She's caught by a tall, golden man with a crater in his heart and an apple in his left hand.

"Cendrillon!" cries Yoshizawa, "Sword Dance!"

And again, much like earlier, eight silver blades as tall as I am ram themselves through the fucking fly-beast, piercing every inch of it and keeping it pinned to the wall. Unlike earlier, Baal Malage is able to force itself back into standing tall; though the blades remain stuck to the fucking wall the creature just presses onward, pieces of its shoulders and stomach and waist being sloughed off from the blades.

It bleeds from every single inch of itself but lumbers through, and as the swords in the wall shatter into black flame it stands tall and furious. Over us all its wings have seemed to grow exponentially larger, and Baal Malage lets out a glorious, violent laugh. The wings flail and shudder and lash about like steel fucking whips and it mashes all around itself, causing craters and slashes in the ground at least three fucking feet deep and it approaches, though we all stand a considerable distance it's only a matter of time before it hits and we'll be shredded to goddamn ribbons—

And I feel Maruki's hand on my shoulder, "Sukukaja!"

Time fucking slows down, yet again. But this time, it's to my benefit, rather than my extreme undying pain.

As Victory Cry repairs my goddamn spine and the whole world gets about five times slower, I can see gaps where there were none, open spaces in the flurry of the razor-sharp wing-whips—

—and so can "Satanael!"

BOOM!

The cavity in its chest has spread over all the rest of its upper body, its arms and pectorals and fucking neck left dangling by lops of flesh. One of its wings is splattered against the wall, and the other limply thrashes about in anguish.

BOOM, BOOM, BOOM

The wall behind it is now a large swathe of red. Bits and pieces all over the fucking place, its brains and pieces of its eyes, chest, organs, all painting the fucking room. Enough blood for a fucking hospital or at least a small clinic. Niijima runs over to me and grabs me, telling me things I can vaguely hear, until the word STOP hits me like a truck and I realize I'm still firing into the fucking fly monster.

I exhale and let myself actually see what's in front of me. And, well, it's hardly anything I haven't seen before. If you've never seen it though, you wouldn't want to. Their voices again grow silent as I approach the fucking corpse and its remains, and Niijima realizes what I plan to do, too late. She tries pulling me off, she's shouting and calling out for me, but I don't listen and I tug my arms away each time she tries to pull them.

The guts and the organs are slippery in my hands, blood splashing whenever I'm too fucking dizzy to keep them in. The knife cuts deep and true and opens spaces that had once been closed, and the fly's three stomachs release steam as I, to no avail, search for a fucking map it might have swallowed.

"Kazuya...," I hear Maruki say.

And I turn to the rest of them. Their mouths agape, like they're seeing a monster worse than the one that had tried to kill them just moments ago. I wipe a thick pile of blood off my face and off my clothes, a ringing noise piercing through my ears, "The security room prolly has the map."

From the look on her face. It sinks into Niijima then, for the thousandth time that day, just how differently she'd have done things had she been aware of all this supernatural nonsense beforehand.

We make our way back as my brain goes seventeen different directions inside my own skull, all of them converging on the path that tells me to throw myself upon the fucking ground and let my heart stop beating.

Kick the fucking door down we do and Takamaki and Yoshizawa slaughter the fucking idiot flies watching over the security cameras, setting their bodies aflame or shredding them away. I feel my back realign as my shoulders set themselves into their sockets, Niijima and Maruki constantly looking over me and keeping me steady whenever I feel I'm about to trip on my face and I smile again because I can see fucking everything.

The cameras show every single room on every single floor on this place. Placards placed next to each row of security feed reveals there are three general areas to this place; Tier One is the first, the one we're on now. Where the lobby is, where all these fucking rooms we've been stuck in have been. Tier Two looks to be a dungeon of some kind. Lighting is fuzzy and damp and dark, but there are light sources. Harsh, flourescent bulbs, with shapes all huddled together and vaguely resembling pigs. Tier Three's rows of footage are utterly pitch black-except for one monitor.

One monitor shows a hazy, bright, colorful light sitting upon a pedestal. Unclear in form and function, but I and the cat recognize it clear as day.

"Treasure...," we say at the same time.

"What? That's the Treasure?" asks Maruki.

"Yes. In Tier Three...," I exhale, letting something like a laugh come through.

"So that's where we'll need to go?" asks Takamaki.

"Yes," I groan, for once excited and utterly satisfied with myself. "Is there a map here?"

"There is!" says Yoshizawa, prying a piece of paper off the walls. "It's a map of Tier Two only!"

"We can actually do this," I laugh, peering at the map along with the rest of them.

"But not today," Niijima says, and she says it with a tone that she's unwilling to argue on this point. "You're exhausted. And you're burning up."

I hiss, "Fucking hell-"

"If you die like you nearly did earlier, we've lost our trump card. We'll-we'll have lost the first and last line of defense and you know it. I know you want to stop Kaneshiro, but we can't do that if we're not at a hundred percent! Don't you dare argue with me on this or I swear to God I'll knock you out and drag you out of here myself—"

Maruki lays a hand on both our shoulders. Instantly the situation deflates. He turns to me. "We'll get back to this in a few days. Please. I'll get us home and get you rested. You're too sick to continue on, at least for now."

I want to protest. I want to see this piece of shit burn now. But I can't even see straight. I can't even feel the tips of my fingers or anything in the middle of my chest, beyond a fiery sensation that causes me pain every time I try to do more than sway from side to side. "Alright."

"Y'know, the thing about yakuza is, it's supposed to be about family."

We all face the monitors and every single goddamn screen shows him. Him in his golden eyes and robes and shaggy half-head of hair. His vile sneer which contains a kind of contempt that he cannot stifle no matter how hard he tries.

"But that blood oath and loyalty bullshit only goes so far. When you've got a fucking gun to your head, selling your fucking godfather out is as easy to you as breathing. Selling your stooges out is fucking child's play. Fucking your underlings' wives or mothers right in front of them is a joke you tell your friends during parties. So it's nice to see you all show so much fucking concern to the cunt in your group that deserves to die the most."

"We'll come back here," growls Niijima. "We'll see this whole bank of yours crumble. The hunger you have... you'll be consumed by it, yourself. Mark my words."

"I like food that doesn't die quiet. I hope you survive the rest of my men. From here on out I'll up the fucking ante. This is only the beginning. By the time you reach Tier Three, you'll all have lost things you had taken for granted. You'll be wondering where your eyes are as you feel around for the arm you've lost. You'll be crying for your mothers as you clutch your open intestines. You'll be so starved and deranged you'll see each other as meals and feed like fucking animals. And I just can't fucking wait. The things I've got planned for what's left of you will be worse than you can ever imagine."

Then the screens go static.

And the ground punches me in the goddamn face.

.

.

.

GUESS WHO HAS AN EFFIN JOBBBBBB

Meaning updates will take even longer, sadly enough.

I know I said this chapter would have a ton of fights, but I'll spread them out over the course of the next few. I'd say there'll be about three to five chapters remaining for the Kaneshiro Arc.