For a moment, the arena was silent and bright, Makoto held her gun, up and idle. Ren (or was it Akira?) drew his sword, his hat deep over his face, only his grimace visible. Makoto had never seen Ren be anything but calm and serious, but now he looked concerned and stressed. It was unnerving- it felt like an omen.

Ann and Ryuji were standing close together, guns in hand. They seemed both scared and determined, which Makoto thought was the best that could be hoped for- they'd been through worse in the depths of Kamoshida's Palace. They looked ready. And here Makoto was, finding herself judging the surface expressions of her companions while she couldn't get the name 'Kurusu Akira' out of her head. A different name! Such a basic lie! If that was a lie, then-

No. Stop it. This isn't the time for it! Survival now. Ren's lies later.

...But did he really lie? So he revealed some more information than he'd told Makoto. Was not the history of their partnership a long line of grudgingly released information? How was this any different?

Oh, come on! It was his NAME! That was different wasn't it? Is that not the very first thing people learn about each other? Hello, my name is. Nice to meet you, my name is. That's how everything started, right?! Meetings and greetings, courtship and love-

not- not that either of those things matter right now- but they are all between NAME and NAME! And the NAME he gave her, Amamiya Ren, was apparently a lie! A bold-faced lie! And the only non-omission lie he'd ever told her? Makoto doubted it. Fiercely doubted it. How much of his other bullshit was also a lie? If Amamiya Ren was some sort of facade, how much of rest?!

Makoto realized her jaw was tight. She took a deep breath and tried to refocus. What was she worrying about? Names? Good god, she was trapped in some kind of dungeon arena with no idea how to escape. Ryuji and Ann were counting on her to get them all out of this alive. This was not the time to fret over Ren's revelation! So he has a pseudonym! Get a grip!

Get a grip and use every tool this Ren/Akira person has!

"Ren- Akira- whatever your name is-" said Makoto, unable to restrain herself from a small stab.

Makoto received a dark look in response, but she didn't mind. It even made her feel better to see Ren's irritation. "What's going to happen?" she said.

Ren/Akira's grimace turned into a scowl of disgust. "I said I never watched it!"

"I didn't ask if you fucking watched it! I asked for information!" Makoto's anger surprised even herself, she was practically spitting the words out of her mouth. Everyone shot her a shocked glance.

"I don't have any! Defenseless women versus a pack of ghouls! That kind of thing" said Ren.

"We ain't defenseless and we ain't women," said Ryuji with a bit of notable bluster.

"Half of us are women!" said Ann, her voice warbling slightly with fearful chuckling.

"None of us are defenseless," said Makoto, gaining the attention of both Sakamotos. They were rattled. She was rattled. Even Ren seemed rattled. They all needed to be confident. To have courage for whatever was to come. Makoto realized she needed to lie to the Sakamoto's. And lie to herself. "You two already killed the ghouls. Whatever else happens, it won't be designed to handle us! We deal with it, and push on for Madarame!"

"Yeah!" said the Sakamotos.

Makoto felt Ren/Akira's gaze. He was looking at her out of the corner of his eye, a small smile at the corner of his mouth. What was he smirking about?! She felt another flash of anger. Everything about him made her angry right now. Makoto's mouth opened to tell him off, but a sudden gust of wind stole her breath away.

Ren frowned and lifted his left hand to hold his hat on his head. "Morgana!"

"It's not me!" said Morgana.

The wind swirled around the arena, the oufuda which covered the eight walls ruffled and cracked in the sudden gale. It was surprisingly loud, like the vanguard of a storm surging through a forest, a thousand paper leaves rustling. The wind began to swirl into the center of the arena, the center-point of a cyclone. Individual ofuda were ripped from their places on the walls, swirling like autumn leaves, first a few, then dozens, and then the air seemed to be filled with a swarm of ofuda; all of them gathering and condensing in the center of the room in the midst of a whirlwind.

The chaos of swirling paper was slightly mesmerizing, but it quickly became apparent that some sort of order was establishing itself in the center of the arena. Starting in the vague centerpoint between eight walls, floor, and ceiling: a sharp crescent-moon took shape, two tips pointing towards the ceiling. The paper construction continued towards the floor, the crescent revealing itself to be the ornament on a sort of paper helmet, which rested atop a paper head, little dark gaps in the ofuda paper resolving into hollow paper eyes, and then an entire suit of armor folded and creased itself into form, as if some giant, invisible soldier was equipping himself, complete with taloned gloves and spiked boots.

"What is that?!" yelled Ann.

"It's some kind of shikigami!" said Ren.

"What is that?!" yelled Makoto.

"An autonomous persona!" came Morgana's muffled voice.

"Whatever it is!" said Ryuji. "It's just paper!"

He stepped forward, leveled his blunderbus:

CHOOM!

Makoto's vision was obscured by muzzle smoke, but she immediately heard a strange rattling sound in every direction, like someone had some gravel in a tin can. Something small impacted one of her shin guards. Something else stung her cheek.

Ann shrieked in surprise. Makoto glanced towards her. She was holding her ear, and when she withdrew the questing hand, it was gleaming with a small amount of blood.

Ricochets! They were getting hit by ricochets!

"Don't shoot it!" said Makoto, lowering her own gun. "The pellets are bouncing off! So might our bullets."

"Try yours!" said Ren.

Makoto didn't like the idea. If one of her bullets came back, it wouldn't result in just a stung cheek or a pierced ear… but- god, if her gun didn't work- what was she going to do? Ren, the bastard, was right: she needed to test the weapon.

Makoto raised her gun, aimed carefully at the paper giant:

KOOM!

A spark appeared at the side of the shikigami's face, an instant later, a tiny hole appeared in one of the eight wall portraits- the oily image of people holding bottles melted into a black morass of uneven paint. So- bullets simply didn't work on the paper man, whether big or small. Damn!

"But it's just paper!" said Ryuji. "How can it do that?!"

"It's magic vampire paper, moron!" said Ann, showing her brother her bloody hand.

"How was I supposed to know!?"

Perhaps inert, perhaps designed to build suspense in future victims, the shikigami paper man hand yet to move; but now that changed: it began to advance upon them, taking a large lumbering step. At least it didn't appear to be all that fast, but the arena wasn't all that big. It wouldn't take very many of those steps to reach them.

Makoto began to think: So, it was a giant paper man that reflected bullets! What purpose did it have in tormenting defenseless girls? It was big and menacing looking. It had claws. What could it do against a team of vampire hunters? Probably enough to be deadly, and Makoto wasn't eager to get close to the thing and find out- but Makoto had her new sword. Was there any point in swords against this thing? Did a paper man even have organs to stab? Unlikely. How to hurt it, then? How to hurt paper?

Oh. Obviously.

"Ann!" said Makoto, "Burn it!"

"Right!" said Ann, stepping to the fore, holstering her unfired pistol. She held up an empty hand instead. "Carmen!"

A ball of fire streaked into the shikigami, striking it dead center. Mid-step, the paper man staggered from the impact. The fireball grew in brightness, igniting the surrounding paper, but then it dimmed, sank inside the creature's torso, went orange, then black. A large burned hole was the result. They'd damaged it! But not critically.

The shikigami, recovering its balance, suddenly rushed forward, its long legs quickly crossing the arena floor. Gods, it could move! Were the first lumbering steps just a way to- to what? Draw out the moment? Prevent a more defenseless victim from dying too quickly?! To play with its meal? Whatever its initial goal, now the creature was clearly not playful and it was entirely focused on Ann; its hollow eyes intent on the source of fire which had injured it.

Ren stepped into the shikigami's path. He swung his sword.

God! What was he doing?! If bullets bounced off, then-!

The blade struck the shikigami on the shoulder, a high downward chop- and it bounced off. Ren's entire upper body recoiled from the reversal. He staggered back in the effort to keep his balance. But he'd gained the paper man's attention. The giant paper arm Ren had attempted to sever now swung backwards, then clawed down at him. Still on his heels, sword still aloft, Ren was defenseless. The shikigami's talons tore across his chest. There was a terrible ripping sound. Fragments of white armor, black cloth, and dark blood were in the air. Ren yelled in pain, then the shikigami's other arm came around in a swatting blow, throwing Ren like a stone into the arena wall- he hit with a sickening meaty crunch, his spine bending oddly, and he fell limply to the ground.

"Holy shit!" said Ryuji.

"Mr. Amamiya!" gasped Ann.

"He- he'll be fine!" said Makoto. "I've seen him take worse."

A lie. Ren was like a fly to this creature. This was bad. This was very, very bad.

The shikigami reoriented on Ann and continued forward. Makoto recognized the enemy was approaching her position. Its target was one of her companions. Makoto had to do something! But what could she do!? Bullets didn't work! Swords didn't work! Those were all her weapons! What else did she have? Knives in her gloves?

She could do nothing to stop it! She was- she was-

Useless.