Fool's Gamble
Life 96
Chapter X: A Castle of a Different Design
Vignette of Death
2016, F.G (First Game)
"You're back again I see, studying must be really important to you…" Tae Takemi said with a liberal layering of sarcasm as her new guinea pig once again came back for another medical trial, the boy saying something or another about stress and exams.
She knew that was a complete lie, but the kid wasn't strung out and he didn't look like he'd shoot up a place while on her meds, so Tae cut him an ounce of slack and didn't prod him for the truth.
Not enough for him to get comfortable, but enough that he didn't wince before every trial, let alone complain.
"That mid-semester exam, just killing me…" Akira Kurusu said with a sheepish shrug, the boy's lies as skilled as the most machiavellian of saturday morning cartoon villains…
"Listen kid, I know that story about exams stressing you out is a lie. I also know you're not misusing the medication I give you, so I don't mind selling it to you, but don't lie to me. I'd rather you say nothing, rather than lie to me." Tae said with a critical eye then as the boy's eyes widened, shocked at her request but not against it.
"I… The medicine is for an important cause." Akira said carefully as Tae just nodded her head in response, her clipboard already in hand as she readied the latest experiment.
"All I needed to hear kiddo. Now, this serum strain will be a bit heavier than the previous samples, so don't act surprised if it knocks you on your ass." Tae said with a sadistic smirk as she inserted the heart-rate monitor into his vein, the metal tip pulling a pained growl from the boy.
"Suck it up Sunshine, you asked to be in my chair. Now, I'll be injecting you within the next five seconds. When you begin to feel the serum work, you'll start to feel extreme exhaustion, so try to lay down as carefully as you can. Sound good?" The doctor asked with a critical glance as the boy just gave the needle a weary glance and slowly nodded as he looked away.
"Don't worry, I'll give you a lollipop after." Tae said with a smirk as she slowly guided the syringe's tip into the vein, the boy grimacing as she let the stopper free, the latest of her experimental medications working it's magic as the boy's eyes slowly fell closed.
With a steady hand she helped him down on the medical bed, Akira's breathing slowing as she noticed the tension leave his body.
She froze in fear however, when a sudden sound echoed out that shouldn't have happened.
The monitor flashing a violent red, a line that should have been bouncing like a crimson wave, now flat.
Akira Kurusu's heart had stopped.
The Laboratory of Hatred, The Metaverse
"Quite gothic for a laboratory, don't you think?" Akechi said with an intrigued tone as they found themselves outside what appeared to be a darkened castle, more in line with Victor Frankenstein than an actual doctor.
And yet, Akira felt a sharp feeling in his throat as he looked upon the grotesque castle, what appeared to be corpses lying discarded outside of the castle walls.
Like horrid bricks, faceless masses were stacked so tightly together, the bodies appeared to be built into the very foundation of the fortress.
It was hard to connect the caring physician he has known with such a macabre manifestation.
And yet, despite the agony of seeing the sanctity of his friend's mind so savaged, Akira's mask had never felt more needed than before, even if it was purely to hide the pain in his eyes.
"I… I wouldn't have thought it to be this bad…" Akira said with a dying breath as Akechi stepped forward gingerly, the tips of his duster brushing the dirt path beneath them as the two stepped closer.
"Many people hope and pray for a best-case scenario, but I've found that things rarely decide to go so fortunately." Akechi observed calmly as Akira still couldn't believe what was happening, the once caring doctor he had known, now playing god with innocent lives as he found himself with only a traitor by his side.
The smell of rot was ever present and vile as they drew near; the reinforced gate of the Castle's courtyard was oddly left open, a glimpse of the grotesque sight beyond clear to see.
Almost like they were expected.
It was as they pushed through the open gate, that the previously clear afternoon sky fell away to a storm ravaged night, thunder striking around them like an introduction, a wail on the wind as Akira felt Mephisto's presence draw closer.
And oddly enough, as the heavy rain fell upon them, Akira felt something deeply wrong.
"We have to get out of the rain!" He called out over the roar of the ever growing storm, Akechi's coat billowing madly behind him as they began running towards the castle's doors, the ground behind them being rapidly and viciously struck by lightning as the boys felt the sparks of it biting away at their backs.
Feeling an otherworldly swiftness, Akira found himself dodging just as the latest strike aimed at him, the tails of his new coat catching flame as he went, a mercy that Cognitive rain still put out flames, but things had come too close for both of their liking.
And yet, as Akira reached out to open the doors of the castle wide, they found a surprise waiting for them on the inside of the abode, the floor completely missing as the two plunged forward over the edge.
And fell into the endless darkness below, the shadows lowering then into their frigid embrace…
Some Time Later…
"The intruder has been subdued, beginning autopsy-" A shadow wearing a surgical mask tried to say before it found an axe burying itself in it's skull, Akira waking up in a panic as candlelight assaulted his senses, his mask flaming into being as his heart struggled to keep up with the urgent danger.
From the look of things, he had been taken to a grime-and-gore covered dungeon, ready to be dissected by bloodthirsty shadows dressed as surgeons, serrated machetes over scalpels.
This palace wasn't making his grief any better, the idea that Tae would have murderous practitioners in her palace wasn't a happy thought, nor a good indication of what she believed in…
And yet, with his axe in hand, Akira felt Mephisto's power fall over him like a warm cloak as he took in the grotesque room around him.
No sign of Akechi unfortunately, which meant that the Shadows had separated them, but it did give him a moment to himself to think.
Unless he was being tricked, Goro Akechi was not the Black Mask, and that was an oddly troubling thought.
And… Akechi mentioned his father, casually and without malice, almost as casually as he would have talked about the weather.
Was Masayoshi Shido a good father in this reality? Was that why Akechi was completely clueless about the Metaverse?
Why Loki wasn't hiding beneath Akechi's skin like a parasite?
It certainly would make sense, though now it confirmed that this new Black Mask was truly a rogue element, that Akira's knowledge of the Conspiracy and the future was seemingly useless in solving this new mystery.
Which meant that despite all he had been through, he was right back at square one…
However, right as he went to leave, he found himself hiding with bated breath as a trio of surgical shadows entered, their eyes furious in their search for the escaped "patient."
Akira would not be subdued twice, and the flames forming along the edge of his axe agreed with him, the ghostly visage of Mephisto burning to life on the steel's edge.
With the axe face trailing the ground and a vicious smile, Akira felt more at home than he ever had, his right glove growing claws as he stalked closer to one of the shadows.
They hadn't seen him coming, nor had they seen his hand ripping the mask off of the closest Shadow, a cry of pain being let out by it.
Oh, he had missed this…
"I'll reveal your true form!"
Goro
It was an interesting situation he has found himself in, more entertaining than most of his cases had been.
A school nurse poisoning her charges, a world of cognition shaped like the textbook definition of Gothic, all inside her mind.
Shadowy doppelgangers that manifest from corruption that can be reverted to virtue through violent confrontation.
Now he held a facsimile of Conan Doyle's detective in his head, and was trapped in a padded room with a straight-jacket holding him tight, a mask sitting uselessly on his face with his hands unable to tear it free.
From what he could hear from beyond the reinforced door, the Shadows were claiming he was insane, that he should be lobotomized, not treated.
The fact they looked more akin to mold-covered undead than your typical surgeon, seemed lost on these Shadows, their hunger for his blood evident from their gleeful lust for carnage.
And yet, Goro felt something click together when they said he was insane, like this was familiar…
Not the padded room of course, but the comment, the hateful sneer and violent disregard in the voices of those Shadows.
Except he had no idea why, exactly, but it was familiar…
Ever since he had faced off with Kurusu in his drugged state, and since Goro awoke his Persona, he had been hearing voices at the edge of his hearing.
Sometimes his own voice, sometimes Kurusu's, and other times the voices of people he had never even met before.
But each one struck him like swords through his chest, small feelings emerging in his mind, like... recollection.
And as he sat trapped in the room, he heard that voice again.
A voice so dark and cold, he barely recognized it.
"So, my final enemy is a puppet version of myself… not bad".
He might actually be going insane, but since he couldn't reach up to rip his mask off and summon Hoʊmz, he desperately hoped that Kurusu didn't take his time in rescuing him.
And yet… Kurusu didn't feel like the right name to use for the other boy, a feeling deep in his chest that burned, something… angry.
Something… wistful.
"Kurusu… You had a different name, didn't you? Before, I mean... I called you something… but what was it? What did I forget? Why do I know you? " Goro muttered aimlessly to the ceiling, a storm of pain ripping through his mind as the light in the room shifted to red, electronic rods rising from the walls as he could only watch in confusion.
"We've met before…"
"Beginning electro-shock therapy."
A thought to consider another time, his eyes rolling shut as the electricity coursed through his veins, his body collapsing from the stringent torture.
Akira had thrown himself straight into battle, but he didn't feel alone as he once had, a presence forming within his mask as Mephisto's form appeared in a blaze of hellish flames, the demon's face drawn in a nefarious smirk as a circle of flames began to surround Akira and his newfound opponents.
No running away, that was the game's rules, not for himself or his enemies.
With Fleurs du Mal at hand, Akira was more than alright with that; he felt invincible.
"Careful with such thoughts young one, lest someone disabuse you of such belief. However unneeded, these cretins hold no threat, mere playthings, but keep thy arrogance to a medium. Without delay, let us commence." Mephisto said with a dark cackle as the overcoat it wore tore away, a pair of bone wings shooting out of it's back, almost like one had ripped the flesh off a vulture's wings.
"No patient may leave! The Angel demands it!" One of the Shadows screeched out as their forms all crumbed, darkness falling away to reveal forms he knew, and one he didn't.
The long, sly form of the Makami, the seductive and serpentine form of the Lamia, and a Shadow he didn't recognize.
It looked much like a warrior, but with armor made of straw rather than metal, its bony fingers wrapped around a fierce-looking sickle.
Looking over them, he almost swore heard Oracle's voice in his head.
"Lamia! Curse is no use!"
Fortunately that wasn't the only tool at his disposal, his focus razor-sharp.
"Mephisto! Maragion!" Akira cried out as the Demon merely snapped it's fingers, a wave of flame bellowing out from it's wings as the Shadows were struck back, the straw-man seeming to take great damage from it in particular.
He believed Futaba once called it 'Super Effective.'
However, all three still stood as they turned their fury onto him, the Lamia seeming to be first in their vengeance.
A physical strike, her wicked claws aiming for his gut as Akira barely ducked out of the way, the strike cleaving through the air next to him as he took a shallow breath.
The Makaki began to glow a frightening color then as Akira tried to regain his balance, a worrisome ticking sound filling the dungeon as Akira felt the room grow unpleasantly warm…
"Oh shit, Makami is nuclear-"
And the Makami exploded in a mushroom cloud of energy, a blast of radioactive heat scorching Akira's form as tried his best to shield himself from the sudden blast, only to find blood trickling down from his nose in waves.
He couldn't tell how much that hurt him, but he felt a pressure on his body that wasn't there before, he needed to be faster, and he needed to stop making mistakes.
He knew that Makami held Nuclear skins, and he felt stupid that he hadn't expected a Freila.
Fortunately, Mephisto held the same weaknesses as Arsène had, Ice and Bless being his crux, so while the Nuclear assault might have been painful, it wasn't crippling.
The straw warrior tried to strike at Akira in his moment of vulnerability, but the flaming remnants of it's armor threw it's attempt off balance as it fell to the side, trying to roll to no avail.
To his own misfortune, while Akira could hear the muted muttering of the Personas that had once filled his mask, none would come to his call.
Aside from Mephisto.
And Mephisto was recommending he use a spell he had never heard of, and of which he assumed to be a new creation.
Regardless, he had more to do in this palace besides battle these smallfry, so he took a chance.
With a hand to his mask, Akira called out once more, his eyes turning a callous gold.
"Mephisto, Goethe's Omen!" And before his very eyes, he watched as the ground around him began to crack and break away, hordes of animate flame rushing through the cracks to slash and bite away at his enemies, almost like jackals made of hellfire.
The flesh almost seemed to be torn free from the Shadows, tormented screams echoing from them as he knew they were in horrid shape, their flesh burning and decaying as he brought the flames of Hell to level against them.
With a swift move, the Tyrant Pistol was pointed at the Lamia, her eyes going wide in fear and pain as a smirk came to his face, his gun mere inches from her nose.
"This is what we call a Hold-Up. You tell me where to find the boy I came in here with, or I paint that wall with your cold blood. Your choice."
Evidently, Akira was not what they expected.
"N-now hold on, you're a reasonable sort of guy, maybe we can make a dea-" The Lamia tried to bargain, only for the Makami and Strawman to be bathed in her black blood, her eviscerated husk vanishing back into the shadows as her compatriots froze in fear.
The smoke billowing out from the Tyrant's barrel blinded the Shadows, the red eyes of Akira blazing through the smog as he smiled once more.
"Let it be known. I am not a responsible sort of guy. Who's next?"
Neither of the two responded, but he was caught off guard when the body of the Lamia began to reform, her eyes glowing like the sun as her jaws clamped shut around his arm, the gunshot between her eyes still smoking as she slowly healed.
"Shi-"
A loudspeaker spoke as Akira stalked through the halls of the Palace, the walls plastered in horrid excuses for medical advice, directions on how to climb into an oven being one shining example.
"Remember, the Angel alone decides if you live. Your life, and your death, are not your own."
That had been another trend, the Shadows and the Speakers talking of an "Angel", one in control of mortality itself, and he was smart enough to make the connection.
Each Palace Ruler had an inflated sense of worth, assigning a character to themselves, such as Shido declaring him Samael, Heaven's First Traitor.
He could only assume Tae was meant to be Azrael, the Angel of Death, considering the Shadows insisted that they couldn't die, that SHE wouldn't let them.
And that wasn't a lie either, considering the Shadows kept resurrecting after he killed them, the bite mark in his forearm evidence of that.
He shot them to pieces, chopped them apart, and even began beating them to death with his bare fists, but they would always rise again.
But then Mephisto had come up with a solution, insisting that only the power of Hell could drag down wayward souls, and the Persona wasn't wrong.
So long as Mephisto put them down, they stayed down, but it sadly meant that Akira was running dangerously low on stamina and he wasn't anywhere closer to finding Akechi.
As well, even if he had wanted to leave the other boy behind, the Shadows had taken his phone.
He wondered why his phone had been taken, but not his gun, though Fleurs du Mal was an oddity.
He had found all of their old weapons in a chest in Leblanc' attic, including Fleurs du Mal, but he hadn't been carrying the axe with him that day.
He had left it in the chest with the others, and yet when he had his second awakening, Paradise Lost R had seemingly disappeared, Fleurs du Mal instead heeding his call despite how impossible it was.
Then again, he traveled back in time in a blue room led by a man with a very long nose, and now shared headspace with a Demon from the Middle Ages.
In hindsight, nothing was impossible anymore, but it was still an adjustment; Fleurs du Mal's weight and might over Paradise Lost's swift fury and razor's edge.
Now he was just getting himself lost in thought, one hand pressed firmly against his wounded arm, the other grazing against the wall as he tried to avoid detection, the halls of the castle never ending as he felt the exhaustion overwhelm him.
Once, this palace wouldn't have been an issue.
He had never been alone before, and it showed as Mephisto's power began to wane, the full weight of his injuries finally beginning to hit him as Akira took a shallow breath to still his beating heart.
He couldn't be too much further, the dungeon couldn't possibly be all this palace held, and yet, it felt like all it was was this grim labyrinth.
He froze then, as a horribly familiar voice spoke out in the silence, his breath stolen from him like the thief he should have been.
"And where are you going, my little Guinea Pig?"
Goro
Goro felt oddly fine and not in as much pain as he should have been in, considering he was electrocuted until his body and mind collapsed.
And yet, he wasn't in the padded cell any longer, the clothes that his awakening had produced were also gone, a clean brown suit having replaced them as he looked around in confusion.
He was seated in a plush compartment, on a train, but not the usual sort.
This appeared to be a turn of the century steam engine train, and Goro was apparently a passenger.
With spades of curiosity, Goro rose and opened the compartment door, expecting to find the aisle of a train and other compartments.
Instead he found a large circular room of blue, a fireplace burning slowly as the light of four separate windows streamed through, each of them showing a different landscape drifting past, as if he were on four separate trains all at the same time.
At the center of the odd room, was a finely made desk, and an older woman, a small boy standing by her side with a book in hand; his golden eyes looked nervous yet eager.
Goro hadn't seen people as odd as them before, he was sure. White hair, glimmering golden eyes and garbed all in blues and golds.
"Curious and curiouser." Goro said with a chuckle as he stepped forward into the odd room, the woman meeting his gaze with something akin to… disappointment?
Had he already disappointed this mysterious woman and her aide?
She merely waved him forward, a scarlet armchair rising up before the desk as Goro took a seat and the hint.
"Welcome, to the Velvet Room. My name is Margaret. This place exists between dream and reality, life and death, and even imagination and expectation. It is a room that only those that are bound by a Contract may enter. Usually my master would be the one to greet you, but with your status as Spare, and the both of you refusing to share, the Velvet Room must split it's resources. My Master attends to the Other, so I shall be accompanying you through your own journey." The woman, Margaret, said as she sat at the other side of the desk, paperwork and knickknacks of various kinds instantly appearing across it's surface.
Goro just stared back at her for a second.
"You must know that everything you just said is incredibly confusing and hard to follow." Goro said simply as he swore he saw a hint of a smile come to Margaret's face, the woman just looking down at a list of documents in response.
"In short, you will embark on a journey, Goro Akechi, and we shall aid you on it. I will handle any and all fusions you may conduct, and young Henry here shall handle your Compendium and Itemization needs." Margaret said as she gestured to the young boy, who just looked happy to be included at all.
"I already have it started! I mean, I have to do some revisions, but I'm ready to begin!" Henry said with excitement as he pushed the book forward, a familiar illustration on the page.
A figure with a long coat, a cap casting a shadow over his face, and glowing eyes.
Hoʊmz, written in a finely drawn signature, yet there seemed to be something erased underneath it.
"However, you are still at just the beginning of your journey, so we must bid you farewell for now, but know we shall be watching your progress. Know that you may be trapped now, but this Game is ever shifting."
And before Goro could try to ask any questions, he found himself fading away from the strange realm, and back to his reality.
His mind, however, still wondered what had been erased.
A Facade So Dire:
The Black Mask was close. The two Persona Users had been separated by the Shadows, making their approach even easier.
Even better, the one with the dark hair was injured and tired, making him far easier to pick off than before.
He hadn't even noticed their approach just yet, which made lining up a shot even easier.
A breath, and this interloper would be gone forever.
"Anyone ever told you, it's rude to shoot a man in the back?"
An armored figure was behind them, a demonic helmet meeting their face as the pistol was torn clean from their grip, a malevolent energy flowing around the stranger.
"I don't like cheap shots."
A.N
Any further flashbacks to the first timeline will be labeled F.G, as in First Game. That is all