In hindsight, I think I could have wrapped up the last chapter a bit better. Ah well, I guess that's what happens when you really want to get a chapter out after it's been ages.

Perseus Ruby Sendou – Well, he is Persona-Jesus while Takaya was Revolver-Jesus. Yes, that's what I call them in my head.

Last we left off, I do believe I had set Akira to get lung cancer when he's older. Shit, I'm getting Red Dead Redemption 2 flashbacks (R.I.P Arthur). On an unrelated note: I still hate writing fight scenes, especially when it involves non-human characters. Ah well, I signed up for this one. Sorry if it's not that good.

Sometime later: Okay, fuck this. This fight will probably be underwhelming, but otherwise, this was going to take forever.

Chains continued rattling, echoing throughout the desolate, tenebrous streets as the three stood in front of the source. The spectral form stood without a trace of whatever damage Akira had managed to inflict, looking down upon the three of them with its guns cocked and ready.

Akira tried to speak, only for the words to die in his throat as he was left coughing again. Whatever he inhaled, it was crippling him; even with Mona's help, he could barely breathe.

But his words were unnecessary, as Mona had been thinking the same as him. Glancing at the stranger, Mona asked, "Do you think you can take it?"

"With your help, perhaps." Crow eyed the creature like a hawk, watching its chain wrap around indefinitely and its single bloodshot eye gazing down at them.

It hasn't attacked them yet; was it hesitating or curious? Or rather, was this an expression of pride from it, being so confident as to allow them to prepare before engaging?

Whether it'd be caution, curiosity, or hubris, they all point to signs of intelligence that far exceeds that of a typical shadow. With that much power with a mind like this, what other surprises could this creature be withholding?

Crow's thoughts were interrupted when his ally's coughing grew louder; looking back, he saw the raven-haired boy repeatedly striking his own chest to breathe. Regardless of what he is, fighting directly would be suicide for him.

That leaves him and this 'Mona' feline creature. Would that be enough, or was he going to abandon this façade and reveal who he truly is?

He could only hope that this would be enough.

"Will he be alright?" Crow asked the furry creature that was trying to heal his friend.

Akira hissed through his teeth, pushing Mona back gently enough to avoid accidentally tripping him, and stood back on his feet. "I can still fight," he said, growling, "I'm not letting this many people die just to run away."

"Honorable sentiment," Crow replied, returning his attention to the Reaper as it remained there, levitating and watching, "I just hope that it won't be the end of you."

Another loud sound pierced the air at the firing of another shot into the air. The atmosphere began to transform, becoming heavier and frigid. Whatever was halting its hands, it was gone now; it was the time to fight.

"Robin Hood!" Crow was the first to act, his persona summed and drawing its shot as the Reaper began lining up its next shot.

Releasing his arrow, Crow's persona, Robin Hood, struck the creature in its shoulder, earning a cry. The arrow tore through, leaving a large gap between its body and arm that leaked a blackish mist.

But a wound such as that was not enough to stop it. Despite the seemingly massive injury, it persevered, firing a shot that was an unnatural black and red.

There wasn't enough time for the persona to move; the shot hit its mark, combusting into a mass of black and red.

The persona could only scream out in pain; it must have had a weakness for curse-based offenses, as it immediately began igniting into azure flames, howling as it faded away, sharing a mutual pain with its wielder as it returned.

The suffering of the persona caused Crow to clutch his head, feeling a burning sensation throughout his body and an intense headache forming instantly.

"Harrowing…" The Reaper condemned them and their efforts. No matter how hard they tried, fighting it was merely delaying the inevitable.

Fun as their futile efforts may be to destroy, it was not something that it would like to prolong much longer than it needed to. So when it saw one of them, healing the boy, it knew what to do next.

Wiping his mouth with his sleeve, Akira began following the creature's gaze. The distance between them, especially from this angle and such a disparity in height, made it difficult to pinpoint exactly what it was looking at.

But then, an epiphany occurred. If this thing was smart enough to talk, then did that mean it was smart enough to selectively target too? If that was the case, then its next target would likely be…

"Mona!" Akira called out to his friend, dashing forward and diving, desperately grabbing his friend just before the Reaper's shot fired, and the area behind sparked with yellow bolts of electricity.

Instinctively, Akira threw an attack of his own. The gem shattered on impact, forming icicles that immediately began piercing into the Reaper's jacket-like attire, leaking more of the blackish mist.

"Joker," The Reaper growled the boy's codename again. The mist that had been permeating from the wound solidified into large strands that connected from one end of the shoulder to the other, pulling the two pieces together until they were one whole again.

Crow summoned his persona again, holding his bow like a shield and clashing with the Reaper, halting its sudden charge as its eye remained focus on its prey. The Reaper merely held up one arm in defense, engaging the persona as the mist escaping from the crystals of ice began to act, shattering the icicles and closing the wounds they made.

"Thanks, Joker," Mona said, separating from his friend and returning to face the creature.

Checking his bag, Joker growled, closing it again and glaring. "That thing is gonna need more than what I have here."

"We… we need to—" once again, Joker's words were interrupted by another bit, feeling as if hands were wrapped around his throat suffocating him. Using everything he had in him, he was able to get only the faintest of breaths through.

"Joker, listen to me," Mona reached out, placing his paws on his face so that he was looking at him, "you can't stay here!"

"I… I can't…" another cough.

"Listen to me," Mona was shouting at him, trying desperately to get him to listen. "You're its target! You're in danger and you're sick! Leave or I will knock you out and drag you out of here myself!"

Akira was barely able to regain control of his breathing, leaving him a panting mess again. His hands were clenching, hoping that he could find a way to refute what his friend was saying.

But no, he was right. He was human; flesh and bone. Without exposing himself and signing his death warrant, he couldn't risk using his persona either.

His presence would only put his friend in danger, and if they fell, then there was no telling how many others would. But he had to do something!

These gems weren't enough, yet—

"Give it hell," Akira nodded, biting his lip and dropping his bag, hoping those two could put what he had to good use.

With that settled, Akira dashed as fast as he could. Wherever he was going was a mystery to his enemy and allies alike.

Mona couldn't take time to watch his friend escape, however. Instead, summoning his persona, Zorro, he was able to assist Crow against the Reaper's assault.

The new persona struck the creature's head, not deep enough to leave a lasting wound, but enough to push it back.

"Crow, here!" Mona shouted, launching the bag in the Reaper's direction. With all those gems inside, all it needed was—

"Take the shot!"

The Reaper recovered only to see the bag become surrounded by a purple light before the pain began to course through its body again with another cloud of smoke surrounding it.

The pain only served to enrage the Reaper more, making it howl as it fired off more shots, forcing the air to dissipate to regain a visual of its two attackers. But when the cloud was gone, so were the two of them.

So this was the game they wanted to play? So be it. If it harmed them enough, then Joker would return as well.

Ah, friendship, one of the many things humans throw their lives away for.

"C'mon, c'mon…" Akira's voice was drowned out by another coughing fit, bringing him back to his numb knees. His body found itself shivering despite his coat, yet his body still found itself sweating heavily, making his quivering worse. As the coughing faded, but no matter how hard he tried, air would not come back in—more was still inside, but refused to leave.

The weight on his shoulders gradually began floating away. Try as he might, Akira found himself increasingly becoming less able to focus, and his thoughts had become incomprehensible. One after another, everything in his mind began fading like chalk on a sidewalk.

"Stupid…" He found himself smiling as darkness began creeping in from the corners of his eyes. From there, the blackness could only spread, cloaking everything in a thick blanket like it was a gift from the midnight sky.

Akira might have been laughing were his lungs working how they were supposed to. Weird, he didn't remember falling onto his back. This wasn't good, now was it? No, no, of course not, his brain was being starved of oxygen now. No matter how hard he tries to fight it, eventually, his body won't be able to carry on.

"That so bad…?" Oh yes, now he felt the best part. Now he's on his own cloud in heaven without a care in the world. That thing running around probably just to go around killing everything—that's bad, very bad, yet it felt so… funny. Everything felt so funny now.

But, people were dying—were going to continue to die like this. The creature was after him, and without him, everyone was going to be slaughtered. He's even surrounded by corpses now; corpses that were too burnt up for a pool of blood to form or had been left in so many pieces, there was no telling if they were the remains of several or just one.

They were all dead because of a creature looking for him. They were all dead because of him.

They were all gone like—

Summoning the last of his strength, Akira outstretched his arms. Interlacing his fingers, Akira formed a double-fist before striking his chest with everything he had.

The trapped air finally escaped through more hagged coughs, perhaps mixing with some blood but his senses had dulled too much to tell. No, instead, the entirety body was solely focused on breathing.

Through the numbness, Akira forced his unsteady legs to support him. Though his feet were constantly left skidding on the ground beneath him, Akira continued to push on into the building he and Makoto had been to before.

There, in the building, Joker was greeted to the sight of several people. Were it not for the old, worn-out pieces of clothing on some of them, the poor and rich were indistinguishable from one another as they huddled together for warmth, comfort, or merely to have someone near them should the worst happen.

But he had to ignore their gazes and questions. Retracing his steps, Akira was led to the same wall that he had been to just a few weeks before, and there he was greeted by the same crates as before.

"Please, please, please…" Akira muttered, rummaging through the crates. Without even opening them, Akira could tell they were empty, having had their contents exhausted when the guards tried fighting the Reaper.

Nevermind the contents, over half of the actual boxes, were missing. The situation must have had become so dire that they abandoned standard protocol and began taking everything with them.

"Dammit, no, no, no…" one after the other, they all came out empty. Some weren't even opened properly, having been had the locks and hinges broken, perhaps from when things began to become chaotic outside.

Nothing! There was nothing here! He only had a small number of gems in his bag; nowhere near enough to make a difference against that thing, no matter how strategically they're used.

That thing shrugged off a Megidolaon to its face—what else could he do? He couldn't fight that thing like this, at least not without earning himself an early grave.

Of course, there was his other option as well, but would that even work? He's used it for small things out in the countryside before, even facing a few shadows, but never for something like this.

If he did—regardless of whether or not it made a difference—he was essentially screwing himself over. He could only assume that Yaldabaoth and Shido let him live as long as he did because they viewed him as an anarchist, a problem that would resolve itself eventually.

If they knew the truth, then they would stop at nothing to find him. Only two options that remained for him at that point would be to either be Yaldabaoth's plaything like 'Crow' (whatever that entailed) or be executed because he would be too much of a threat to risk imprisoning indefinitely.

Then again, Mona already revealed himself, so what more would it do at this point? Would the fact that he's a literal cat change anything? Was it a risk worth taking?

Should he hide what he was and let others suffer? Or should he out himself with no guarantee that he still has a chance?

Shaking his head, Akria moved to make his way out of here. If there even a chance that he could stop that monster, then he had to take it, regardless if—

"Wait!" A voice came out and froze the boy where he stood. Akira turned to the direction of the voice, seeing a small boy barely able to drag a case to him, "Were you looking for one of these, Mr. Phantom? One of the soldiers dropped this when they were leaving."

The thief didn't even bother with manners, quickly snatching the case and inspecting it. It had a lot of weight to it, so it was still full; turning it, he saw that the box appeared to be undamaged, unfortunately meaning that it was still locked.

Reaching into his coat, Akira pulled out his lockpick, only to find that the handle had broken, and the pick itself had bent in several directions, rendering it unusable. That said, once he left, he could just burn through the lock and open the case that way.

"Congrats, kiddo, you're a hero!" Akira gave the boy a little piece of encouragement before running out of the building.

"Pitiful," the Reaper's voice echoed throughout the streets as it scanned the ruined city.

Realizing how outclassed they were, the two had resorted to the coward's way of fighting. Now, they hide and were no doubt holding their breath as it drew closer to them.

If that was the game they wished to play, then so be it. It was time to see how well they could adapt.

Another shot was fired, leading to ground crumbling and screaming as the ice began to coat it, finding its way into the various cracks and crevices, only to create ten more. The world was already covered in snow, so half the work was already done for it.

Gazing down at the ground beneath it, the Reaper saw its form reflecting from the icy roads. Some of the ice appeared to be much thinner than the rest, appearing to be almost invisible to the naked eye.

Of course, ice only matters to those that walk on land. The Reaper's ghostly form had no reason to worry and floated atop the ground as always, undeterred by its little trap.

Perhaps it should go to the schools next? Children often go where they are most familiar with during a time of crisis, a pattern that is easily exploitable. The ordinary mortals had become absent, realizing the futility of trying to confront it and praying that these two could. Perhaps another repeat of Osaka was necessary?

But then its patience was rewarded in the sounds of ice crepitating.

The Reaper was swift to act, destroying everything in its path as it hurried to the origin of the noise. Buildings, old lampposts, frozen corpses—all were rendered to nothing but ash and dust until it reached its destination.

But it was there that the Reaper found nothing. The ice had fissures, of course, but there was nothing there—nothing but pieces of mortar now. These buildings were old; a brick must have come loose and landed.

The Reaper might have begun destroying everything in its vicinity, were it not for more sounds of ice fracturing, rapidly this time, and becoming louder as it drew near.

Turning around the Reaper had just enough time to see the arrow that Crow had launched before it struck it directly in its bloodied sack. It couldn't go too deep, with the tip only able to penetrate a centimeter or less.

What did do, however, was explode the same form of red and black that it had done to its owner earlier. Despite the arrow itself barely able to penetrate the sack, the explosion earned shriek of pain from the creature.

Crow's eyes could only widen as he watched the creature's head lower, ichor spurting in unnatural quantities and mixing with ice and snow, turning them into a dark, tar-like sludge. He found himself remaining still, transfixed by either the sight or the laughter; laughter that started as soft chuckles, only for it to continue growing into a deep, booming voice that could be heard throughout the whole city.

The reality was quick to catch-up, however. Whatever had driven the Reaper into its fit of laughter was waning, allowing it to raise its head, and it exposed the plump, bloodied mass of sludge, and what could only be described as flesh. The only thing still left recognizable was its single eye, still bloodshot and refocusing on the boy in front of it.

Crow tried to move, but his legs only continued to refuse him. The area was covered in ice, making escape difficult now. In the unlikely event that he could elude it, then the snow prints would leave a nifty trail for the Reaper to follow.

No, Crow's body had frozen stiff, ignoring any of his commands as the Reaper began approaching him. The ichor had been reduced to large droplets that continued to fall, leaving a trail of bloody tears in the snow beneath the creature.

Behind the creature, Crow saw Zorro manifesting just before driving his blade through the back of the creature's head, piercing its eye that hanged at the tip of the blade. With the blade fixed in its cranium, the Reaper ceased its movements, remaining a lifeless statue as the bloody tears continued to fall.

Of course, the Reaper a manifestation of Death. Perhaps not the god, but a certain kinship was there. Deity or not, it was death. As such, Death itself dying was paradoxical—a paradox that the world would not let continue.

Without warning, chains were surrounding Zoro, wrapping around him and crushing the persona. The agony of the persona was secondary, however. What mattered was that the torment distracting—distracting enough so that its owner was now stunned.

Fighting through the pain, the cat turned around and began running in a full sprint until an explosion deafened his ears and sent him forward several feet, sending him crashing into a pile of snow and ice.

Impacting with the ice, it shattered beneath his weight. Dumb luck dictated that most that had broken into shards were thankfully harmless, Mona could feel a select few digging into his skin and drawing blood. But as quickly as they were noticed, they began melting away.

Wait a minute; they were melting! By the time he realized what was happening, Mona found himself lying in a pile of freezing water that was quickly joined by more streams that all seemingly led to the same source.

"Oh no," was all Mona could get out before the shot was fired. There was a blinding flash as the spark struck before he completely lost control of his body; his muscles began convulsing, control completely ceasing to the point that he was unable to even scream from the hell he was forced to endure.

The Reaper barely had time to let out a brief chuckle before it was forced to raise its arm again, defending against another clash from Robin Hood. The sense of shock and awe that had compelled the boy before had worn off it would seem.

But the clash was futile. The boy did not have enough strength to overpower it, nor could he distract it long enough to cease its assault on the feline until the pitiful creature had expired.

That was, at least, until it saw the faint purple light reflecting off of the persona and its own arms. The persona retreated and The Reaper felt another explosion at its back.

The Reaper snarled, turning around to face its attacker now. Any semblance of mocking joy that it gained from toying with them had faded.

"Forget about little old me?" Akira asked, raising an eyebrow and tilting his head, flashing a mocking smile. The curled lips, however, quickly shifted to a deep frown when he glanced at his friend. He was unconscious—barely having survived that thing's sadistic torture but alive nonetheless. "Stay away from my cat."

"Joker…"

The Reaper reacted quickly, but not to attack Akira. No, turned around with its arm extended, catching the resummoned Robin Hood before he could attack and slamming into a nearby building. It's drawn this game out long enough; it was time to settle this.

But Crow had already anticipated this persona was too weak to leave any lasting damage; its survival of his first Megidolaon had proved that. No, the futile effort served as a distraction, providing enough of a window for Crow to rendezvous with Joker.

The Reaper, however, was no longer wasting time with its prey. With the persona stunned by impacting with the now crumbled building, it was all over with a quick shot to his head.

But when the Reaper returned its gaze to where Joker had been, he was gone—him and his pose. That, however, was fine with it. They could run, but they wouldn't get far.

"He'll live," Akira breathed a sigh of relief, holding his friend close with one arm. They had run as fast as they could, turning multiple corners in the hopes that whatever was left of the city would shield them from the creature's view long enough.

Crow's attention, however, was on what was in Akira's other hand, "I see you found one of our cases."

How did he get that open, he wondered. Perhaps a simple lock pick? While not condoned, it wasn't an unheard-of practice due to the need to stash so many in so many places.

"Huh?" Akira's eyes widened, the reality of the situation occurring to him once again. "Yeah, I found one. My guess is some soldier or something never got the chance to use, but left it unlocked for me. I never knew the dead made offerings to the living, eh?"

Crow scoffed, "A casual jest? Now?!"

Akira returned the gesture, giving a scowl of his own. "Yes! Yes, Crow. I am joking. I can barely breathe, my friend nearly died, and I don't want to think of how many people are under the ice we're standing on. So yeah, I told a damn joke!"

The words seemed to reach the boy whose gaze instantly softened. He spoke again, this time in a much more subdued manner, "my apologies. But while we're here, we need to think of a plan."

"Yeah, but—" Akira's words were caught in his throat again but not by his own ailments. No, he was rendered paused when he noticed several purple lights beginning to form in the sky, one after the other like the stars beyond. Then, he was able to find his voice again, "those aren't fireworks!"

Though they tried to run again, the lights were quicker. With them all descending towards the ground, the area became engulfed the light.

In its wake, everything was reduced to rubble. Though covered by a thick cloud of dust, The Reaper's advance was not impeded in the slightest. As it approached, it merely pushed the grey blankets in the air aside, coming closer and closer to where it felt its target.

Suddenly, there was more pain; pain in the form of claws piercing its bloodied sack, having emerged from the dust to attack.

From the claws, The Reaper felt a mass of energy building up, culminating in a similar explosion to what Robin Hood had done before, sending it backward again.

This persona, however, was not as hesitant as Robin Hood had been. Flapping the pair of wings attached to its waists, the persona dashed forward, only to be thwarted by a shot through its torso, where one could only surmise its heart would be.

Aggressive or not, the persona was forced to retreat, and The Reaper was free to completely clear the air, revealing the user to be none other than its target and…

And…

And…

… those eyes.

Joker was leaning, barely standing alongside his unconscious allies and with one hand covering a portion of his face, but those eyes poked through as he glared at it; those familiar eyes.

It was then that it became clear to the creature why it had been sent here. There were two possible outcomes, and both would have been successes for him.

During this time of revelation, The Reaper noticed small droplets of pink rain beginning to fall—a warning from Yaldabaoth himself. Its presence would no longer be tolerated. However, it was too late; The Reaper had already succeeded.

Firing one last shot, the Reaper vanished into blackish mist without a word.

When Crow opened his eyes, he found himself alone. Akira must have run at the first opportunity with his strange feline friend, but he neglected to bring his case with him. Instead, it was left to be discovered by Crow, who quickly removed the attire given to him by his… better side.

Akechi took one look at the case and his question was answered. It was just as he thought.

"Melted," he muttered, putting the object down.

Akira was left stumbling and coughing.

There was too much! He breathed in too much of that dust too soon.

His head was felt like its weight was fading every second and his fingers had long since gone numb.

Darkness was surrounding him again, forcing him to rely on muscle memory and wishful thinking. Were it not for the companion he carried alongside him, he might've given up by now.

No, he had to keep going.

It was just a little further.

A little further, and he was able to burst through a familiar door.

A familiar door to a familiar place.

It was a comforting thought, but a brief one that was quickly joined by blackness as he fell to the floor.

This... took... too... damn... long!

Seriously, do you know how many times I've written this fight! Too damn many! And I'm angry because I have no one else to complain to, dammit! If parts of the description doesn't match or something is referenced that didn't happen, the many re-writes is why.

But on a serious note: Akira probably has lung cancer. Well, not literally (yet?). If Akechi seemed like a wimp here, do remember what he was up against. Literally the only reason these 3 are still alive is because of its ego and... something else. Have fun on that one theorists because I'm not telling you for a very long time.