You know, I've been thinking. Maybe I should revert this fic back to being rated "T." I mean, the chapter that elevated it to an "M" rating didn't really describe too much, and the one child-death we actually saw on-screen wasn't too bad or even graphic.

Besides, there are way more gory fics than what I write that still have a "T" rating. It's just something to ponder.

And no, before any of you ask, I'm not writing any. You know who you are, and you know what you were thinking. No, I'm done with that shit. Go on AO3 for smut. What's that? This fic is on my AO3 account now? Well, don't expect to see any of that crap from me in this fic!

Side note: I can safely say that I still hate writing fight scenes, mostly because of how goddamn long they always take.

Several hours earlier

"He will wipe every tear from their eyes," Minato murmured, his face deep into one of the many books that he carried with him in his bag, "and death shall be no more, neither shall—"

"What're you readin'?" Saki interrupted, her eyes glued to the book with unfamiliar symbols on the cover.

Minato answered, "one of my mother's books." He was going to have to be careful here, lest he risks turning into a missionary. Right, like he needed that on his conscience.

The mention of his late mother seemed to pique the girl's interest. "Ooh, what's it about?"

"It's an old book about dead men and a now-dead religion." Minato closed the book in his hand, placing it back into his bag alongside the other variants of the same stories. Funny, from what he was told, religion was something people often fought and killed one another over, and yet now most are either dead or dying in light of recent events.

"Oh," she breathed, her excitement instantly becoming crushed. Minato would be lying if he said if he didn't feel a ting of guilt for that either.

Still, It was better this way—there'll fewer complications down the road like this. He needs to keep her at a distance so that way he will have an easier time dropping her off somewhere safe wherever that may be.

At the same time, that was the first time he saw her brighten up since what happened. Once upon a time, he was like her; no one should have to suffer alone as he did.

Minato relented, taking a deep breath before asking, "do you like reading?"

"No—I mean, yes—I mean, I, um," Saki's tongue continued to tie itself into a knot, unable to finish her sentence. What was that supposed to mean? Maybe there was something reading has that you could not get anywhere else?

Minato hummed to himself for a moment before asking, "What about the stories? Do you like those?"

"Mm-hmm," The girl nodded, her lips turning to a faint curl. "I really like the one about the moon girl!"

"Moon girl?" Minato repeated, thinking back the any of the stories he had heard in recent memory. "Wait, you mean the Moon Maiden? I didn't know they still told it."

"Uh-huh!" Just like that, the girl was smiling at him and happily recounting an old memory. "I thought the ending was a little sad, but I like how—in a way—Moonbeam was still cheering them up, even when she's… "

Saki lowered her head again, and the smile was wiped away like chalk on a sidewalk at the last word. "… gone."

"And who could forget the butterflies," Minato thought out loud, the faint darkly tone of his voice going unnoticed by the girl. The two butterflies; black and blue, scouring the grassy fields.

"And the moon—don't forget the moon." Of course, even his plus-one had to chime in.

Who would have thought that with the dawn of the apocalypse, butterflies and the moon would be what was ruined the most for people—or at least, Minato?

"Yeah, the butterflies were cute." The girl agreed, her smiling returning as she briefly closed her eyes to picture a butterfly's appearance. "Have you ever seen a butterfly?"

Had he ever seen a butterfly? Had that been asked under any other circumstance, he might have burst out laughing.

He hadn't seen the blue butterfly in some time. Minato couldn't help but muse on what Philemon must be doing nowadays, or even the Velvet Room. Neither was particularly useful—Philemon was too debilitated to do anything even if he was willing to do so, and Velvet Room was redundant at this point after all these years. He did find himself missing Elizabeth, however, wherever she may be.

Then, there was the black butterfly—the Crawling Chaos itself. Nyarlathotep rarely showed himself, and if he did, one would likely never notice. Despite his absence, his presence is ubiquitous and absolute; if disloyalty to him were to grow, he would allow either daemons or shadows to run amok to remind the pigs of their place. On some occasions, the unfortunate souls would receive a visit from his champion himself—whoever that was.

Butterflies, to think that they would bring nothing but trouble.

"I'll tell you all about 'em later," Minato sighed. Butterflies—two generations into the apocalypse, and the world have reached the stage where seeing a butterfly is noteworthy.

Suddenly, Minato felt his blood turn cold. A dull pressure he hadn't felt for years began setting in, threatening to suffocate him.

He hadn't felt this sort of sensation since—

"Do you feel that?" Minato asked, coming to a complete halt.

"Huh?" Saki looked at him puzzled.

"Not you," Minato clarified.

"Grr," Death growled and hissed, recognizing the cause instantly. "He dared to awaken that thing?!"

"Reaper," the words come out in a breathless whisper. An old monster defeated years ago, but now it had been revived.

It took everything he had to defeat it last time, driving that thing into a torpor-esque state. Even with the entire team backing him back then, it was a close call—too close.

But now, he didn't have the team anymore. More than half of the people he had then are gone now, and he's all alone with no one but a child and a monster accompanying him.

How is he supposed to stop it now?

"Crawling Chaos, I've known him since he was nothing more than a giant squid," Minato heard the creature roaring, thrashing about in its cage in a fit of rage. "And it dares—it DARES—to awaken that thing?! That twisted parody—that insult?!"

Death—it dares to be known as that. The creature not only shares its Arcana but also claims itself to embody the thirteenth itself.

No, it must be destroyed—erased from existence! Death—the rightful Death—will not let this go unanswered. It shall have vengeance on this pretender!

"Tone it down," Minato snarled. There was nothing quite like Thanatos' temper-tantrums to give him a headache.

"Whatcha doin'?" Saki's voice snapped him back to reality.

Wherever the Reaper is now, it's likely far from here. It doesn't even know where he is, so for now, he should do his best to avoid it.

Now, how was he supposed to explain that a massive, nigh-immortal shadow had been awakened and was most certainly looking to kill him, to a seven-year-old?

"Never mind, keep moving," Minato shook his head. He was going to have to cross that bridge another day, but no today.

"God help whoever is in that monster's path."

The ground trembled beneath their feet as the two thieves approached ground zero.

Akira lost his footing, falling down only to reach out to the ground to catch himself at the last second. Still, the quaking ground did not relent, even as Akira fought to balance himself as he stood up straight again.

"Mona, what the hell is going on?" Akira asked, placing his feet firmly on the ground again.

"I-I'm not sure," Mona said in a panicked voice, the strands of his fur beginning to stand up straight even in his anthropomorphic form. "It's like a shadow, but—whatever it is, it's powerful! Really powerful!"

"Great," Akira muttered, shaking his head before turning back to the feline. "Mona, I'll need you to stay in the shadows. I'll see what I can do, but if things take a turn for the worse—well, it's better for them to just think a monster was helping me."

"M-Monster?!"

"Not now!" Akira rebuffed, reaching into his coat to pull out a grappling device that he hadn't had a chance to use since his debut as a Phantom Thief.

Akira soon grew to regret ever using that device to climb the next building in front of him.

The cold air became frigid all around him, and all the noise began to become drowned out from his ears.

His eyes began to widen, and he briefly shook his head in disbelief at what he was seeing—what he was feeling, this long sense of dread emanating from the creature before his eyes.

He was there—face to face with the monster itself.

It had no legs, with nothing touching the ground and only a few rags hovering above it. Those few rags were stained crimson and in dark ink. The latter likely came from the shadows that littered the landscape, having killed some itself and bewitching the rest to rend one another before they expired. The crimson came in a variety of shades, the brown-ish tints being old and coming from battles long since passed. But there were also shades of sanguine—an ichor that had almost completely saturated the rags.

The monster stopped its assault the moment he approached, and the air grew still—so much so he could hear the pellets from its rags hitting the ground beneath it. The chains wrapped around its form rattled as it slowly turned to face him, revealing a single bloodshot eye.

The rest if its face was hidden, concealed by a bloodied sack. The 'cloth' at its shoulders showed signs of wear and tear, but the sleeves underneath continued to hide whatever was beneath them. Following the sleeves, one would find gloved hands, each holding long-barreled revolvers possessing a shiny silvery surface contrasting with the rest of the creature's horrid appearance.

The Reaper tilted his head, focusing its sole eye on him as if it was surveying him.

"Joker…" Its voice was a cold whisper that barely managed to penetrate the sack it originated from.

"H-How..?" Joker remained transfixed as its words repeated in his head on a loop.

"Joker…" how did it know his codename? It's killing everyone, so it wasn't Yaldabaoth's.

"Joker…" It recognized him by sight, does it know who he is?

"Joker!" What did this mean for the others? Did it know who they were to?

"Joker, move!"

"Huh?" Akira was broken out of his trance, only to be met with one of the creature's guns to be pointing directly at him.

Luckily, the grapple device was still in his hand. Without even looking to see where he was aiming, Akira pulled the trigger and allowed it to pull him out of harm's way as the entire building was set ablaze. Unfortunately, as the grapple had not been properly aimed, he had no choice but to collide with the wall it had become lodged into.

The Reaper wordlessly turned its head, noticing the boy's survival. This game was quickly going to become tedious.

As the boy attempted to scale the wall, the Reaper fired not at him, but at the foundation beneath him. Pulling the trigger, the brick and mortar erupted, shrouding the area in a thick blanket of dust. The building quickly crumbled, bringing the boy down with it.

There was too much dust to indicate where he was, but the sounds of coughing made it apparent that he wasn't far. It also meant that he managed to get out of that without anything too severe if he could cough that loudly—now how was that?

The question went unanswered, instead, from the cloud, it could spot an orange light. The intensity grew in intensity, seemingly inlarging until it was clear what was happening—it wasn't getting brighter, it was getting closer. Yet, the Reaper remained still, even as the gem that served as the source came close before combusting.

Akira emerged from the cloud of dust, pounding his chest as he coughed, struggling to breathe and run simultaneously.

His senses were dulling; his vision was blurring and everything in his ears was becoming muffled.

His hands wouldn't stop tingling beneath all the tremors. Besides the tingling, he could hardly feel them hitting his chest or the sensation of his gloves as his fingers flexed.

His legs were wobbling, tingling, unable to further support him, driving him to fall on his knees as he attempted to take deep breaths now that he had reached clean air; any longer and he'd have suffocated to death.

Slowly, the trembling in his hands began to settle as the tingling sensation began to fade. He could still hear shouting coming from somewhere, but it was all still too muddled to make it out.

Instead, all he could do was focus on was the pain he felt in his legs beginning to return, aching from all of the running and jumping he had done to get here. Between this and the last operation, he was starting to wonder if he really should look into retirement soon.

Without warning, Akira felt the air around him begin to shift before it pushing him to the side, sending him rolling with his bag just in time to avoid another attack from the Reaper that causing the ground next to him to shatter and fulminate.

"Get up! We gotta move!" Mona yelled into his ear, grabbing a bluish-white gem and throwing it onto the ground, erecting a massive wall of ice.

Ice was still ice, however, as The Reaper quickly shot through it, shattering the wall into pieces that flew through the air.

"Move it! Move it!" Mona explained, allowing panic to set in as it became clear there was little either of them could do to stop this monster.

Akira gritted his teeth, raising himself from the dirt to drag himself off as quickly as he could, following his feline friend who led him away from the abomination. Fighting it head-on was a lost cause; they had to bail.

The Reaper raised one of its guns to line up the shot, but just as quickly put the weapon back down. If the boy wanted to run, then it would let him. It would also, however, remind him of just what that would entail.

The room was almost pitch black, with nothing to illuminate it but the faint moonlight coming from one of the windows. He needed the darkness; bright light made sleeping too difficult.

The walls were a disgusting yellow with paper peeling off despite having been replaced less than a year ago. Perhaps this was a consequence of having workers being so desperate or times themselves with most manpower contributing to basic necessities.

It was far more likely this was only how the common people lived with some of the more 'favored' being granted much more appropriate conditions. He wouldn't know, as it was far better for him to remain living like the rest; it keeps his ties to him asecret from the rest.

Father, Father, Father—not even a cosmic-event would change who he was. He was ready to abandon him, discard him like he had his mother years ago. But he survived—survived long enough for his 'talent' to be discovered. Then, just by existing, he was able to use him to further climb the ladder, and now, he could never hope to stop him—at least, for now. He only needed to wait for the right opportunity.

But Father could wait.

What had captivated his attention was the secret monitor Father was insistent he'd have. With it, he could see almost the entire city without ever having to leave unless on business.

"What vile breed of creature are you?" he asked as he looked at the phantom.

It was powerful that much was certain. Equally indisputable was its bloodlust, having slaughtered its way to Tokyo. All that it would repeat was the same name, "Joker," almost like it was hunting him.

Shadow? Too powerful—at least, too powerful to be an ordinary one. Its ability to speak implied at least some intelligence, far more than the shadows he's come across.

Was it a daemon then? It made far more sense for Nyarlathotep to send one of those. But if he could, then why wait all this time and without anything to support it? Was its sole purpose to hunt 'Joker' and nothing else, with all the other deaths being collateral?

The brown orbs shifted their focus from the creature and to the boy beside his feline friend. The boy he recognized, but it was the cat that interested him. If it was working against the phantom, then it was unlikely to be a daemon—at least, one of Nyarlathotep's.

And then there was the boy…

"Hello, Joker," he greeted the image of the boy. So was the feline responsible for some of the mysterious events that he had done? Or was his plan B to use that a ruse?

Oh, how the plot thickens.

The room quickly became filled with more screams coming from the outside, accompanied by the sounds of gunshots and explosions. The creature, it would seem, did not like to be neglected. Now that Joker had run from it, it was now trying to draw him back.

Alas, he was unable to ponder this for long. His duties required him now.

He was a vulture, wasn't he? Watching them suffer so that he may know what he was up against rather than risking his own life. No, more like a crow hiding in the shadows, only appearing with the dead. Such was the life of Goro Akechi.

Ragged breaths and cough left the boy's mouth as Akira leaned against the wall, sitting as he pounding on his chest with one arm. "I feel like I'm about to cough up a lung."

His earpiece was quick to respond, "that's what happens when you try attacking something you know nothing about!"

Akira might've chuckled, were not for the constant scratching at his throat that made it feel as if he'd never drank water before in his life. He couldn't help but wonder, what would kill him first, suffocation or cancer?

Letting out one last cough that only served to make him feel like he strained his throat, Akira was finally able to speak. "H-How… how are the others?"

"Everyone's locked into their buildings while the guards try to neutralize the threat." Of course, everywhere is under lockdown now. Although, that raised the question where the people running went after the walls starting getting destroyed.

Still, that meant the others wouldn't be coming either. "Good," Akira nodded slightly with a faint half-smirk forming, "tell them to stay out of this."

"Good?! Are you crazy?!"

Akira shrugged. "Maybe a little," he admitted, hissing through his teeth as he slowly stood himself back up. "Already taking a risk now. I'm not bringing everyone else into it."

"Joker, you—"

"Catch you later," Joker interrupted, turning the earpiece off. If he survived this, Oracle was going to kill him or maybe Queen—actually, everyone might. Well, sixteen years is enough to say he's lived a full, good life, right?

Returning from the streets was Morgana, having left to ensure they were being followed and keep an eye on where the creature was going.

Mona was quick to order him to stay down, however. "You can't fight like this!" Leave it to the cat to always worry about him. He was starting to miss the days when it used to just be him yelling at him to sleep at night.

Akira dismissed it, "If I can die, I can fight." The phrase might have had more meaning, were it not immediately followed by another coughing fit, forcing him to wail of his chest again. Once he was able to regain control of his breath, Akira followed it with, "that, and I'm pretty sure I just became middle-aged anyway."

"And do what?!" Mona asked, jumping in the air to add the emphasis that his voice could not. "If you can't even breathe, what can you do?"

"Actually," Akira grinned, "I have a plan—a real one this time, and I'm going to need you…"

Like lambs to the slaughter, the humans continued to gather, making them easy pickings for The Reaper to end them. Try as they might, they could not stop him or even slow him down.

All they could retaliate with were bullets with the occasional gem, gems far too weak to do any real damage. Eventually, it starting growing bored and merely redirected their own attacks back at them. It's an amazing thing how self-destructive these creatures could be.

And so the Reaper remained, floating atop a river of crimson as corpses littered the streets. Now, it only needed to wait and its pray would come.

There was another though; another approaching it.

This sensation was one that it knew well. Another persona user besides Joker and the cat? He must have been one of Yaldabaoth's. He's approaching, so his intentions are clear. He seemed stronger than the other one, too, so he might actually be worth taking eliminating.

It would have attacked him too, were it not for its target leaping towards him.

Chains wrapped around his body instantly, suspending him in the air and crushing him. A little bit more pressure and it would start breaking bones, pushing them into his vital organs. His lungs would begin filling with blood, choking the life out of him as he drowned, and that was if none reached his heart and killed him immediately.

"Foolish," for the first time, The Reaper deviated from its usual speech to express disapproval. For some reason, it imagined that he would put up more of a fight.

"Yeah," Akira hissed as the chains wrapped around him tighter, slowly so that the realization of his fate would begin to set in as his free arms would claw at the chains in vain. Despite this, the boy continued to grin, "but I had to make sure I didn't miss."

The Reaper saw the gem too late. It had already been thrown, hitting it directly and engulfed him in bright, purple-ish light. The monster screamed in pain, losing in control of its chains and flinging Akira into the air.

Though his attack was successful, Akira had been too close to escape unscathed. Even if he wanted to, he was too injured to even attempt to cushion his fall. His body was limp as he began descending towards the ground.

Then, Akira felt the air begin to swirl around him, acting against gravity and slowing him down. It wasn't enough to stop his fall, but it still provided some resistance. It was enough that he was able to hit the snowy ground rolling, keeping it so that he didn't break anything important.

Of course, it still hurt like hell. Enough that he was left groaning and hissing on the ground in pain. He was left bruised and battered as he heard footsteps approaching him. "Joker, you idiot!"

"Shut… up…" Akira shot back as best he could, trying to force himself back up, only for his arms to slip, sending him back down.

Fortunately for him, Mona was quick to start using his healing tricks now that he'd all but been outed at this point. "Your plan was to get grabbed?!"

"No," Akira whined in response, feeling the worst of the pain slowly beginning to fade. "I would've called you, you moved me away as I threw the gem…" Why did none of his plans ever work out?

With the worst healed, Akira was able to stand back up, only for more coughing to erupt from his throat. He's no doctor, but he was almost certain that this endeavor had permanently screwed up his lungs.

Despite the stranger next to them, their attention returned to the blanket of dust kicked up by the gem Akira had thrown. "Did we do it?" Mona hoped.

Hopes that were dashed as they heard another shot go off.

The cloud cleared, revealing The Reaper with one of its guns aiming at the air above it. The three could only watch as what little damage they managed to inflict on the phantom began fading away; all the rips and tears it endured instantly becoming mended, and the trickles of blood spilled when Akira threw the gem were erased.

"You've gotta be kidding me," Akira took a step backward. "I gave that thing a Megidolaon to its face. It's still alive?"

Another shot was fired and Akira saw the faint illumination of a purple light beginning to surround him. He had just enough time to see the orbs of light gather and combine into one before they would be brought down and finish him. No time to run, no means to reflect the attack—that attack would kill both of them instantly.

But as quickly as it appeared, it was met with another orb, causing to go off prematurely.

Akira raised his arms, shielding his eyes before turning in the direction that the second attack had originated from. Standing several yards away was another boy wearing another flamboyant similar to his own, complete with a mask vaguely resembling a bird. Another persona user like him?

If he's in public, that probably doesn't mean anything good for him. On the otherside, the chains were rattling as The Reaper began moving again, seeking to kill its original prey and this newcomer. Better a likely death than a certain one.

Seizing Mona (much to his chagrin), Akira carried his feline friend to the mysterious boy. "We'll this short. Call me Joker, and I have a lot of gems," he introduced. "The cat's Mona, he messes with the wind and heals. You?"

"Call me whatever you want," the stranger replied. "I use bless and curse, but I can also use Megidolaon. I assume you're familiar with the terminology?"

"I dunno many birds, so Crow it is," Akira was quick to think-up of a codename on the spot. "I threw a Megidolaon gem at it, but it's still going, so I hope you have really good plan, Crow."

The trio returned their focus to the creature ahead of them. There was no telling if any of them stood a chance against this thing, but Akira supposed that it was better that they try than not at all. And if they did, then Akira was going to have to hope that this guy was in a merciful mood when this was over.

After Responses (review responses made after I wrote most of the chapter)

Dim95: I haven't forgotten Inaba. You'll learn exactly what happened to them later. Heck, you MIGHT (this is a very strong might) be able to see Marie later.

I don't have much to say after this chapter. I can say that it started getting late near the end there, so if it started feeling a little rushed, sorry. Also, I think I just gave Akira IPF (scarred lungs). I wonder if that'll cause trouble later on. No really, I currently have no idea. I gave him that on a whim.

Actually, Akira needs to lawyer up, because he'll likely gain Mesothelioma and he may be entitled to financial compensation, am I right guys? Bad joke. Incredibly sorry.