Yusuke runs.
He runs from the twisted thing of metal and stone that spits black smoke into a crimson sky.
He runs from Akira and the others, even as they shout his name. Even as their clothes burst into blue flame.
He runs from the talking cat.
He runs from it all.
He runs until he is all alone.
Yusuke sits on the ground, his back against an alley's wall, hands clamped over his skull. "Wake up," he whispers. "Wake up. Wake up. Wake up."
He doesn't.
This Tokyo is a ghost town. As he'd fled, he'd seen no one, and yet he'd recognized landmarks. Buildings and the like. It was all the same. Save for the lack of people. And that horrid factory that had materialized before them as the world spun. And that awful red and angry sky.
He stares at the ground. The alley is covered in a thin layer of dirt and dust. He focuses on the little grains, trying to bring himself back to some kind of reality.
A reality that makes sense.
Only, reality makes no sense.
Plagiarism. Expulsion.
And now he was here, in this alley, staring at grains of dust and dirt, trying to figure out what to do.
Perhaps I've gone mad. He'd once read somewhere, that, 'It is sometimes an appropriate response to reality to go insane.'
He had always liked that witticism.
He stands. Inches his way to the alley's mouth. Peers around the corner.
There.
In the distance, beyond the rooftops he knows so well, juts the gray facade of the factory, with its smokestacks and windows, bleeding dirty light out into this shell of Tokyo.
He swallows.
Just what is that?
He'd heard the others throw around words. 'Palace' and 'Metaverse' and 'Treasure.'
They'd meant nothing to him.
But.
He cannot keep running through this vacant landscape.
If this is a nightmare, perhaps that factory holds the key to waking up.
If this is not a nightmare, perhaps he can still find some way out through it.
It takes him a few long moments to move. Then, he takes a deep breath, steps back out into the road, and heads for the factory.
#
In hindsight, bringing Yusuke into the Metaverse hadn't been Joker's best idea.
Who knew someone so malnourished could run so far and fast?
He stands on the lip of a building and peers down into the street below.
Skull groans alongside him. "This sucks! Where the hell did he go?"
Panther, across the roof, searches for him in the other direction. "Do you see him?" She calls, looking back at them.
Joker shakes his head. "Nope. Couldn't have gone far, though." He darts a glance at the cat. "Hey, Mona. Exactly how far does this version of Tokyo go?"
"Uh," Mona replies. "Well, technically, what we're seeing is how Madarame interprets his atelier in the context of the larger city. So, um, forever."
"For real?" Skull shouts, throwing his hands into the air. "We have to search all of this Tokyo for him? Are you freakin' kidding me?"
Joker throws back his head and laughs. "Wait, so, the whole world is just out there? But totally absent people?"
"Kind of. I think so. It differs from distorted heart to distorted heart. But it looks like Madarame views Tokyo relatively normally, as opposed to his Palace."
Joker's laugh lowers to a chuckle. "Man, these rules just get better and better."
Panther walks over to them. "So, how're we going to find him? We can't search all of Tokyo."
Joker adjusts his gloves. He's missed them. "Well, Yusuke isn't stupid. And he's not crazy. He'll probably eventually figure out that, to get out, he's got to either head back towards the Palace or find us." He turns to regard the Palace. It is a monstrous thing, eclipsing the small residential neighborhood that surrounds it. "And that is hard to miss. I say we head back and wait for him."
"But, who knows how long that will take?" Panther asks.
Joker spreads his hands in a shrug. "Well, it's either that, or we split up - with no way to communicate with each other - and try to find him. There's four of us, one of him, and an entire city where he could be hiding. How long would that take?"
Panther frowns, but doesn't reply.
Skull looks down at Mona. "You sure you can't, I dunno, turn into an airplane or something?"
Mona shakes his head. "I've told you before, it's all about cognition. If the public doesn't already have a preconceived notion of cats turning into airplanes, then I-"
"Okay, okay!" Skull shouts, clamping his hands over his ears. "Forget I asked!"
Joker passes his eyes over the empty cityscape of Tokyo. It is uncomfortably quiet.
"What's it like inside the buildings?" He asks.
"Huh?" Mona replies.
"All these buildings," Joker says. "All these empty homes and offices. What are they like, inside?"
"There wouldn't be anything inside," Mona says. "This is Madarame's cognition. If he's never seen what the inside of the building looks likes, it won't have anything in it."
"But, if he has been inside a building, it would be similar to the real world, right? Since the atelier is his Palace and all?"
Mona shrugs. "I guess."
Joker smiles. "Interesting."
"Can we focus, please?" Panther asks. "We need to find Yusuke!"
"Right," Joker replies. "Right." He nods towards the Palace. "Let's get going."
#
Yusuke stands before the factory's maw. A break in the chain-link fence that surrounds it is capped with a large sign that reads, 'Madarame Productions, Corp.'
He feels something churn inside him, and a sharp spike of pain lances through his skull. He gasps, and brings his hands to his temples, but before he can think, he hears a voice.
"You!" It is loud and gruff. "Why aren't you at your station?"
Yusuke blinks and looks up into the face of a monster. From behind a blue mask, red eyes burn like coal. Inky, rippling black floats around them, bulging and pulsing into an exaggerated humanoid figure. It is dressed in a hideous beige jumpsuit, and a cap of the same make is pulled low across its head.
"I-" Yusuke manages.
"Don't talk back!" The thing shouts. It reaches out with an overlong arm, grabs Yusuke by the shoulder, and hauls him towards the entrance. "Be grateful you even have this opportunity!"
"St-stop!" Yusuke shouts. "Please, I don't understand!"
"You don't need to," the thing replies, and then they are through the factory's doors.
#
The Phantom Thieves arrive in time to see the shadow drag a barely struggling Yusuke into the factory.
"Well, shit," Joker says, frowning. He draws the knife from his belt. "Let's get in there."
#
Beyond a simple lobby where a receptionist thing, of the same black material as his captor, cleaned its nails, is a massive floor almost beautiful in its horror.
Yusuke's eyes travel upwards and beyond numerous, crisscrossing conveyor belts rising to the ceiling, like some bestial spider's web. On the floor, forklifts zoom and zip by, carrying pallets with nothing on them. More black figures stomp their way past, their movements almost mechanical, as if on a set track. The air is heavy with the smell of paint, smoke, and rubber. Between everything, there are numerous large wooden boxes with the words 'Madarame Productions, Corp.' spray-painted in black characters.
There are also children.
They line the conveyor belts, their feet either upon the concrete floor, or - for those above - on raised platforms of puke green metal.
They are copies of one another. Or, rather, each large section of conveyor belt has copies of the same children. Yusuke is dragged past one area, where a little boy in long, greasy hair stands, surrounded by twelve others that look identical to him.
His hands dart across the conveyor belt, slipping and sliding and brushing and stabbing.
And Yusuke sees that the boys do not have hands. Where their hands should be, are sharp stumps, covered in a rainbow of paint. The stumps are brought to a point, and as they dart their way along, Yusuke sees that each iteration is working on a multitude of paintings. It is the same painting, depicting a broken landscape of burning buildings. The same painting, over and over again, each copy of the boy adding its individual stroke to the piece.
"What in the name of-" He starts, but then another monster bursts from a black pool before them. It is identical to the thing that pushes him along. "What're you doing?" This new one asks.
"I've got a Kitagawa 2.0 unit," Yusuke's captor says. "I'm taking it to its station."
"Didn't you get the memo?" It turns to regard Yusuke. "They've been decommissioned."
"Yeah?" The one who holds his shoulder looks down at him. "Seems pretty capable to me."
The second shrugs. "It ain't up to us. This comes down from the Manager, himself."
"Alright, I'll put it in for processing."
The second monster marches off, and the thing holding Yusuke changes their course. "What's going on?" Yusuke asks.
"Quiet," it spits. They pass a new section of conveyor belts, and Yusuke sees they are unmanned. There are, however, a slew of paintings on the belt themselves, as if they had only just been being worked on. His eyes go wide when he sees them. They are all the present work Sensei had asked him to complete.
"Let me go!" He yells, and tries to break the monster's grip. "Tell me what's happening!"
The thing leans down into his voice and shouts, "I told you to, 'shut up!'" They approach a door that reads, 'Outbound Processing,' and the monster yanks it open.
Yusuke can see nothing beyond but a long, stretching darkness, and the vague impression of figures standing within it. "No!" He screams, once more.
It is too late. The thing shoves him inside, and slams the door shut behind him.
#
The awkward little doll-like shadow quivers on the ground. Joker levels his gun. "Where's Yusuke?"
"Wh-who?" It asks, and turns its bead-eyes to the others. "I don't know who that is!"
"Don't play dumb!" Skull shouts, and pumps his shotgun again. "We saw one of you bastards drag him in here."
"Yusuke Kitagawa," Panther growls. "We won't ask again."
"Kitagawa?" It asks. "You mean, the Kitagawa 2.0 units? They've been decommissioned. It was in the memo!"
"Memo?" Mona asks, and loosens his hold on the slingshot just a bit. "What memo?"
"It came earlier today," the shadow replies. "A general notice to all employees. The Kitagawa 2.0 units needed to be decommissioned, and pronto! I thought it had already been done!"
Joker scowls. "What'd you mean by, 'units?'"
"Huh?" The thin line of its mouth hangs open in confusion.
He just shakes his head. They'd snuck in through one of the upper windows, after finding a fire escape around the back of the factory and discovering that the front entrance was positively packed with shadows.
He has to admit, this Palace has been a bit... disappointing, so far. Kamoshida's castle had been as narcissistic as the man himself. But all they've seen of Madarame's Factory, at least on this floor, was pretty straightforward. A couple of rooms with filing cabinets. A break area with a vending machine. Sure there were shadows, but nothing that suggested the extent of Madarame's distorted heart.
And that worried him.
"Where do you guys send your decommissioned units?" He asks.
"Where?" It repeats. Joker cocks his gun. "Downstairs! Downstairs in 'Outbound Processing.' It's on the main floor. You can't miss it!"
Joker nods, and pulls the trigger. The shadow bursts into ash, and collapses on the ground.
The others stare at him.
"What?"
"Nothin,'" Skull says, and clears his throat. "So, what's the plan now?"
"Same plan as before," Joker answers. "Find Yusuke. Now, we've got a direction."
"You know," Mona says, as he returns his slingshot to his pocket. "I can sense the Treasure, and it's further up. We may want to check that out, so long as we're here and-"
Panther interrupts. "We can't worry about the Treasure now! We have to save Yusuke!"
"Panther's right," Joker says, and nods at her. "Yusuke is our first priority. I won't turn my nose up at any intel about the Treasure, but we've got to find him before he gets 'decommissioned.'"
"Yeah," Skull says. "That really doesn't sound good."
#
When the furnace door opens, Yusuke's fears are confirmed. In the sudden light, he can finally make out the features of all the still figures around him.
They are all him. Two dozen Yusukes, all standing in a line, all staring ahead, and rather than hands, each has a sharp stump, covered in dried paint that, in the firelight, looks like blood.
Before he can even whisper, "No," the figures begin to march forward. Their steps are unhurried, and their faces are blank.
They walk.
They walk.
They walk.
And they begin to burn.
The first catches fire before it reaches the furnace. Yusuke watches as his hair lights up like a match, then his clothes, and then his skin. The figure collapsed, ablaze, but continues to drag itself further in.
The same happens to the second figure.
And the third.
And the fourth.
And it keeps happening.
One by one, Yusuke watches his doppelgangers stoically step to their deaths.
Every part of him that can think, rebels. Through the wave of horror, he denies. Makes himself believe he is asleep, safe in bed, and that everything - the meeting with the Principal, this awful place, the terrible sight before him - is nothing but a surreal dream. Perhaps he will try to capture it upon the canvas on the morrow.
Perhaps, when he wakes, he will go to Sensei, and share his concerns.
Perhaps Sensei will finally have conquered his creative block, and will no longer need Yusuke's services.
Perhaps he can finally unveil his own work to the world.
As the last version of himself burns away, Yusuke thinks that maybe, just maybe, things will be okay.
And then the furnace door shuts, and he is in darkness once more.
You know what this is.
The voice is his own, but different. Deeper, more wizened. Angrier.
It feels as if someone is pushing a thumb through the back of his skull.
You cannot deny the truth to yourself.
He shuts his eyes and feels something shift inside him, and then there is a hand on his shoulder.
"Yusuke."
He jumps, and opens his eyes on the black. "Wha-? Who's there?" He demands.
"Yusuke, it's us," the voice whispers.
He squints. The fresh darkness makes it difficult to see, but he can see three distinct figures, and one smaller one, standing in the room with him. "Akira? Ann? Other one?"
He hears Ryuji groan. "Seriously?"
"That's not what we call ourselves here," he hears Akira say. "But yes, it's us. Are you okay?"
He shakes his head, even though he knows they probably can't see it. "I don't understand any of this."
The figure he thinks is Akira steps forward. "I think you do."
"We don't have time for this," Ann says. "We need to get him out of here."
Akira is silent for a long moment. Then he says, "You'll tell us what you saw later. Right now, we're getting you out of here."
He steps up to Yusuke, and takes his arm in hand. "Stay close."
The group moves to the door, and opens it back onto the factory floor. The sudden light blinds Yusuke, so he does not see who speaks.
But he recognizes the voice.
"Well, well, well," it says.
"Madarame," Ryuji growls.
Yusuke's eyes adjust. The five of them stand just outside the door marked 'Outbound Processing,' and are surrounded by those black monsters.
In their middle, stands Sensei.
Only, this is not a Sensei he recognizes. It is the same face. The same hair. But the eyes are bright gold, and the smile he wears is sinister.
Rather than his traditional robes, Madarame wears an expensive looking suit, dark blue, with a starched white shirt, powerfully red tie, and dark shoes polished to shine.
He looks... like a businessman.
Madarame chuckles. "I admit, I was annoyed to hear production levels had dropped off, but who could have guessed it would be for such an interesting reason?"
Yusuke steps away from Akira, who whispers a quick, "No, stay back!" and says, "Sensei, what is all this?"
Madarame stares at him for a moment. It is one of the longest moments of Yusuke's life. Then he scowls, and says, "I thought I ordered all the Kitagawa 2.0 units decommissioned? I believe there was a memo!"
One of the creatures nearest Madarame makes a sound like the clearing of a throat. "Apologies, sir. We'll finish the job right away." He marches towards Yusuke.
Then Ryuji jumps between them, and shouts, "Stay back, asshole," and brings what looks to be a pipe down on the monster's head. It collapses into a pile of ash at his feet.
Madarame's eyes narrow. "I know what this is. Sabotage! How dare you abscond with my property? I demand you turn over the unit this instance!"
"Unit?" Ann asks, and for the first time Yusuke notices she is wearing an enticing suit of red leather. Even he realizes this is an odd thing to notice, given the situation. "Wasn't he your apprentice? Didn't you raise him since he was a kid?"
The golden-eyed Madarame scoffs. "He's not the first. Won't be the last either. 'Apprentice' has always just been a pretty word we use to dress up, 'laborer.'"
Yusuke feels Akira step up behind him. "This is how he views himself," he whispers. "And this is how he sees you. He's not an artist. And you're nothing to him."
Yusuke takes a pace forward. "Is this all true, Sensei? All these years you've asked me to help you? The creative blocks? Are they really all lies?" He smiles. "I won't believe that. You said it yourself. You took me in because of your fondness for my mother." At that, something flickers over Madarame's face, but it is gone in an instant. "I can't believe you would be so callous and unscrupulous in-"
"Oh, Yusuke, just shut up," Madarame groans. No one speaks. "Enough with the thesaurus bullshit. Do you think speaking like that makes you an artist? Do you think it means you're higher-minded than everyone else? Grow up. No one important is impressed, and anyone that is impressed is not important." He shakes his head. "Did you really thing you could make it in this business? Did you think your ideals and your pure thoughts or any of that other nonsense actually matters a damn? There's no such thing as art, you moron. It's a business. It's all a business. And you cling to your outdated beliefs like they're a life preserver, but you don't realize that by having them, you've already gone under!"
He takes a step closer to Yusuke. "I kept you around because you were good at painting. You had a great work ethic, and a wonderful output. But all your babbling about artistic levels of consciousness and the muse and all the other drivel? It doesn't mean anything. And because you don't get that, you were never going to make it." He smirks. "You should thank me for letting you be a part of it. Without me, you would never have had a chance."
Yusuke stares at him. "Thank you?"
Madarame waves him away. "Enough of this. Production has been delayed long enough. Kill them all."
"Thank you?" Yusuke asks.
The monsters burst and materialize into more, even stranger creatures.
"Shit," Ryuji shouts. "Yusuke, step back, man!"
"Carmen!" Comes Ann's voice, and a torrent of fire lashes out at the monsters.
Yusuke cannot take his eyes from Madarame, who moves away from the fray. "Thank you?"
Yusuke feels a hand grip his shoulder. It is Akira. "Dammit, Yusuke! Stand back!"
Yusuke yanks his shoulder from the boy's grip. "YOU WANT ME TO THANK YOU?" He screams.
Pain.
Needles slide their way through his skull, and pierce the gray matter of his brain. He collapses to his knees, screaming, gripping his head in his hands, trying to stop the blood that must be flowing out from escaping.
He feels a heat on his back. "Do not turn away."
Yusuke falls forward, and hits his head against the warm concrete floor. Through the awful pounding in his head, he can see a burning figure step around him. For a moment, he thinks it is one of the things from the furnace room, but this one is different. It is adorned in a cobalt halo of fire, and its eyes are golden, proud, and bore right into him.
With one smoldering hand, it points to where Madarame watches. "Do not turn away. For too long you have excused his treatment, closed your eyes to his dereliction. Denied the truth that you know in your heart."
Yusuke tries to lift himself, but the pain is too great, and all he manages to do is drag his fingers across the floor. To his horror, thin red lines of blood trail in their wake.
"You know this man. You know what he is. So why give weight to his words? Tell me, should you toss aside your truth based on the withered excuses of a tired, spiteful old man?"
Yusuke stares up at himself, but cannot answer.
His shadow's eyes narrow. "Even now, you stop yourself from speaking the truth? The truth is like a painting. If it only exists in your mind, then it does not truly exist. You must put it upon the canvas, bleed it from your fingers, speak it so it may be known!" The shadow speaks faster now. "That man thinks his truth absolute. Show him he is wrong. Show the world he is wrong." It kneels down so it can face him. All around him, a bizarre battle rages. Yusuke can feel the electricity of it across his face. His shadow speaks. "But you cannot show them the truth if you do not speak it to yourself, first. So tell me, what is he? What is Madarame? What is your Sensei? What is your master? Your teacher? Your father? What is he?"
And Yusuke spits out, through gritted teeth. "He's a fucking fraud."
His shadow smiles. "Very good."
He feels something wrap around his face. It is cool and tingles against him like long-dried plaster.
Word beat through his mind. "Let us seal the contract. I AM THOU. THOU ART I. Let us dispense with falsehoods."
Yusuke grips the kitsune mask in his hands, and begins to rip it away.
"NOW GO FORTH AND PAINT THE JUSTICE OF YOUR TRUTH UPON THE CANVAS OF THE WORLD!"
Yusuke pulls the mask free with a scream, and feels himself erupt.
#
Joker feels the cold first.
Arsene has a shadow pinned with its dark tendrils, but more are moving in. They all have their hands full, and he cannot spare Yusuke a glance when he hears the scream.
Then, a wave of frost rushes over him and slams into the shadows. They halt their advance, and some topple over, shattering into shards.
He turns, and smiles. Yes!
Yusuke wears a high collared, puff-sleeved black jumpsuit. A fox tail hangs from a sash he wears around his waist. Opposed to his own bright red gloves, Yusuke's are a deep blue. He grips a sword housed in a red sheath.
Above him, stands his Persona.
It is a spectacle. An ukiyo-e come alive, painted face and all. Its blue robe flutters in a breeze, its pipe smokes from small, dainty hands. It grimaces over at Madarame.
Yusuke opens his eyes, and smiles. "I apologize, Sensei." He slowly raises his hands and looks at his outfit. "You are correct. I would be nowhere without you. You gave me direction, misguided though it was."
He steps forward, and his Persona follows. "And indeed, it is the duty of the apprentice to help his Sensei shine all the brighter." He wraps his hand around the sword's hilt. "But you forget, it is also the apprentice's duty to ultimately surpass the master." He draws the blade, and Joker feels the cold rush up anew. "So, Madarame-sensei. Allow me to properly thank you."
Madarame scowls and glares at the shadows. "What're you all doing? I told you to kill them!"
Joker leaps back and lands alongside Yusuke. "Think you can handle this?" He asks.
Yusuke's smile never falters. "Abominations are fated to perish!"
Joker blinks. "Uh, okay."
The thieves close ranks. "Dude, this is freakin' awesome!" Skull shouts, staring up at the Persona.
"Who'd have thought you'd get a Persona too?" Panther whispers. Joker smiles.
"Let's celebrate later," Mona says. "We've got shadows to fight."
"Shadows?" Yusuke asks. "An appropriate name." He steps ahead of the group. "Allow me." The creatures grow closer, and he levels his blade at them. "Goemon, STRIKE!"
#
Yusuke looks over at him from the couch. "Are you certain it is alright that I stay here?"
Akira sighs. "It's fine, Yusuke. I already cleared it with Boss."
Yusuke nods and lays back down. "I must find a way to thank him. Perhaps a self-portrait."
"You want to paint a picture of Sojiro?" Akira asks.
"No, that would be silly," Yusuke replies. "I would paint a picture of myself, so that he could always put a face to the one thankful to him."
"Don't do that," Akira says. "That's so much worse."
The fight hadn't taken long. Goemon's ice abilities had shredded the shadows. Madarame had lost himself in the scuffle, and despite Yusuke's insistence on going after him, the exhaustion had set in, and they had carried him out.
What had followed was a discordant discussion of the Metaverse, the Palace, Madarame and their investigation, and their role as the Phantom Thieves.
Then, it had dawned on them that Yusuke hadn't a place to stay. Akira had managed to pull some strings with Sojiro, and here they were. They had so much more to talk about, but it would have to wait until later.
"The important thing," Morgana says, from where he lays on Akira's chest. "Is that you've got your own Persona now, Yusuke. That's going to be a huge help."
Akira nods. "It really is."
Morgana looks down at him. "It's a good thing you decided to take Yusuke into the Metaverse with us. We never would've gotten a new teammate if you hadn't!"
Akira smiles, but says nothing.
It isn't long before Yusuke and Morgana are asleep. Akira stares at the ceiling, and goes over the events of the day, trying to think if he could've done anything different.
Then, from his left, he hears a familiar voice, but only in his own mind. So, tell me, son. Why did you take Yusuke into the Metaverse?
Akira just stares at the ceiling.
It just seems that someone so concerned with security and secrecy, wouldn't be keen to let another person in on the secret.
Akira mentally shakes his head. Yusuke deserved to know the truth.
The mental image of his father shrugs. Sure, sure. But how is that your problem? C'mon, Akira. You can fool them. You can't fool me. I'm in your head, remember?
Akira tries not to think anything. He fails.
His father smiles. There you go, son. Honesty is the best policy, after all.
Akira shuts his eyes and tries to force himself asleep.
##
A/N:
Thanks for reading! I hope this chapter makes your Mondays a bit more bearable!
I appreciate the recent comments I've been getting, and if I haven't answered you yet, I'll be sure to get to them soon.
And now, an aside. I've got a question for you people. I'm throwing around some ideas in my head for a new project. One that will NOT detract from Crimson, don't worry. I'm wondering if any of you wonderful people are familiar with visual novels. If you are, what are some of your favorites?