Let's see, I'm burnt out on DFW, FH is a drag until Wes and I can get to the fun parts, AT rewrite will happen when it happens, the scrapbook will prolly be updated once I get my drive for DFW back, and Shadow will happen when it happens just like its cousin/brother/whatever-relation AT.

Until then, might as well do this. Friend of mine who you may know (but he wouldn't like me name dropping) got me thinking about scenarios where the world is basically already fucked; a post-apocalypse if you would.

So that got me thinking, what two egocentric megalomaniac gods (or at least god-tier) beings exist that would naturally despise each other that would cause the world to naturally get into an apocalypse scenario? Why, look no further than the two gods with difficult to pronounce names! Yaldabaoth (just call him Demiurge; it's a lot easier) and Nyarlathotep; the god of control and… I was gonna say Chaos, but insanity is more Nyar's thing (at least, in the Lovecraft mythos where he is one OP motherfucker, beaten only by the most powerful beings in fiction).

Alright, you guys know the drill for me by now. The updates will be inconsistent, I'll respond to reviews in the AN/s, and try to prevent myself from looking like a dumbass again like a certain… incident (which I admittedly deserved).

But enough of that! Let's get to the story…

"Are you sure this is the right truck?" Joker asked, pulling on his crimson glove as he waited in an alleyway. Small pockets of snow that had collected on him fell from his black long coat when he suddenly shivered; no matter how hard he tries, he'll just never get used to this relentless winter.

"I told you a thousand times, yes!" Oracle response came from the earpiece he was wearing. Luckily for her, she and some of the others were waiting in a nice and toasty Mona-van while he was out doing this. "Noir and I have checked, doubled checked, and quadruple checked! Relax Joker, this is the right one."

"Just askin'," the raven-haired boy responded, rubbing his sleeves with his hands. "I mean, last time was—"

"Completely your fault…"

"What?! Mine?! How was—" before he could begin his diatribe, Joker heard the sound of vehicle approaching. "Never mind that, it's showtime."

Joker leaned against the wall closest to where he heard the noise coming from before pulling a handgun out of his coat. Aright, they're going to speed off the second they notice him, so he's going to have to act quickly.

It was all just another day in life of the Phantom Thief, Joker.

Before long, a large truck drove past him without any signs of changing speed. Good, no one notice him; time to act.

Joker held up his gun and took aim at the wheels. It's a good thing almost no one has a care anymore otherwise this would've been a certain disaster. Taking a deep breath, Joker opened fire on the truck.

The first few shots were either misses or they grazed the truck itself. Hopefully, none of the bullets actually damaged anything inside.

Noticing they were being fired upon, the truck began speeding up just as Akira thought it would. His window of opportunity was closing and pretty soon he was going to face the wrath of the authorities after this.

"Time for plan B," Joker thought before firing his pistol one more time, but now the bullet was being supported with unnatural winds following it.

The bullet impacted harmlessly into the truck, unable to pierce whatever armor it may have had but it didn't need to. The truck was soon met with the powerful force of the unnatural wind so strong that the truck began losing control.

Joker watched as the truck began to swirling, its driver trying desperately to escape while keeping his cargo. Unfortunately for him, there was only so much he could do. While trying to make a turn in at a corner, the high speeds combined with the loss of control and wind caused the entire vehicle to tip over and crash.

Alright, that took a little longer as planned. Now was time for step two.

Grabbing his bag that had been lying beside him, Joker rushed to the crashed truck and inspected the front. The driver and his passenger next to him (presumably to serve as some sort of guard) looked a little banged up, but it didn't look like it was anything dangerous.

Hopefully, none of them saw the little trick he had to use to knock them down and instead think he just hit something important. Yaldabaoth doesn't like executions normally, but 'special' people like him… exceptions were often made.

With that out of the way, Joker began what he came here to do and opened the back of the vehicle revealing the cargo they had been transporting. Inside were items that wouldn't seem terribly valuable in a time before he was growing up, but now were essentially priceless; inside was nothing else but various types of food from a few meats from animals that currently none of the Phantoms Thieves knew the location of, a lot of canned foods, and even a few deserts surprisingly.

Once upon a time, these things were so common—at least, in the more developed regions in the world. But ever since this damn winter that's lasted for years started, food has been harder and harder to come across. Currently, the only way anyone was going to get any here was if it was allowed by their 'lord' Yaldabaoth—some god who appeared not long before he was born.

Unfortunately, Yaldabaoth was also one egotistical bastard obsessed with 'order' as he'd call it. He controls who feed what, where, and how much. It's no secret that some regions are favored than others for their 'loyalty,' but those who complain are either sent to an educational facility to 'correct' them or sent to one of the farms never to be seen again.

"Oracle," Joker told his teammate as he began filling up his bag with anything that would fit and likely wouldn't spoil within a few days, "you were right. We hit a score." He said, continuing to stuff his bag. Some canned vegetables here, some bottles of water there—the bag was quickly getting filled and there was a lot more leftover.

"Told you my and Noir's info was good." Oracle's said, without a doubt while having a huge grin on her face too. "You remember your escape route, right?"

"Don't remind me," Joker groaned, remembering exactly where he was supposed to go to escape, "did I do something to upset Queen that I don't remember?"

Joker turned around and saw a crowd of people gathering to see what all the commotion was about. It wasn't often one would have the gall to even think about robbing from Yaldabaoth, and humans were noisy and curious by nature.

Joker looked back at the large amounts of food left over. It'd be a shame if that all went to waste…

"What are you all waiting for?" Joker addressed the crowd, raising his arms slightly and taking a few steps away from the vehicle. "Go, help yourselves! There's plenty left."

There were a few brief moments of silence as people in the crowd looked at one another, considering the idea. Alas, hunger was one of the many things that make people desperate enough to try anything if it meant they might get to live another day. A few individuals started coming up first with nervous looks on their faces, but soon more and more of the crowd joined in as the truck was beginning to be stripped clean.

"Joker, what are you doing?!" Uh oh, it looks like Queen wasn't happy.

"C'mon Queen, they're starving," Joker protested, "I can't just run away and let them watch the food they need be taken away again."

"That's not the issue, Robin Hood," Queen yelled back in his ear, "they're all targets now! Shadows are coming from all directions, and they're going to—"

"Say no more." Joker said, moving to the middle of the street. If he stays around a little longer, then he might be able to buy them some time. And here he thought that being a priority target wouldn't come with any upsides.

Shadows—Yaldabaoth's little minions who were often the first to respond to any signs of rebellion among the people and deal with them appropriately. The damn things might look like weak little blobs, but even the weakest are stronger than most humans and have some powerful magical abilities to boot.

Execution was extremely rare as were the shadows or the authorities' use of lethal force, although this was more due to Yaldabaoth simply not wanting to put anything to waste rather than benevolence. Not to mention, Akira would probably be very high on the execution list if they were to learn his identity.

Queen began speaking again, "Joker, we're on our way to—"

"No, stay where you are," he ordered. "I can take them. Keep the plan the same and stay where you are."

"Joker," a new male voice said. "Are you certain that—?"

"Fox, I said it and I meant it." He replied to his comrade. Last thing he needs is to worry about his teammates in all of this too… that, and he was in the mood to have some fun.

Hearing a woman from the crowd scream, Joker looked at them and followed their gazes to find the dark blob-ish form of a shadow on the rooftop of a building. The only thing that could be considered a face on the creature was a mask that continued to look at the looters and then back at Joker.

People who loot from "government" property were pretty high on the priority scale, but so were the anarchists Joker and his lot. Not good, he needed to give them another reason to attack him and not the others.

Raising the gun in his hand, the boy fired upon the shadow to get its attention. Unfortunately, at that range and Joker's lack of actual training, all of them ended up missing the creature and either harmlessly passing next to it or the building it was standing on. That was fine however—he didn't need to hit it yet.

Now provoked, the shadow settled its gaze on Joker and summoned the rest of the shadows with it to attack him.

"Two, four, six, ten, and twelve…" Joker counted in his head, backing up and looking at the shadows surrounding him. "Hmm, a little less than I expected."

With the shadows focused on him, they harmlessly crawled past the looters. The last of them were just two guys and one woman grabbing a handful of items that Joker couldn't identify from this distance and sprinting off with one of them even using their own shirt was a makeshift bag so they wouldn't be slowed down. Good, no risk of collateral damage and the shadows are close enough where he'd have to be a blind man to miss.

"All this for me?" Joker asked, placing his hands on his heart and letting out a gasp. "Why, I'm flattered! I didn't know I was this famous!"

"Joker, what the hell are you doing?" he couldn't even tell which teammate was yelling at him this time. Maybe all of them were?

"Ooh, looks like the fan club wants some autographs! No problem," Joker said, taking several steps back before firing upon the shadows again, who were now so close together that it almost made aiming at them a waste of time.

Hearing the growls and screeches coming from the creatures, Joker turned around and started running. The more focused they are on him, the better chance those people had of not getting caught with an unusual amount of groceries.

The raven-haired boy turned back into the alleyway to keep them chasing him and away from anyone else who just so happened to be around. Even if they were running now, he had to buy those people some time to get far away from here.

As he was about the reach the end of the alley, he heard more moans and growls above him. Raising his weapon, Joker fired upon the figure above him barely taking any time to aim.

The sound of another bullet being fired pierced the air and Joker shielded his eyes from the ichor that had been spilt. A shadow that had apparently been ready to pounce on him from above instead yelped in pain. Unable to stop itself now that it was already descending, the shadow impacted with the wall just a meter or two off from its original target.

"Damn," he thought, turning right once he reached the end of the alley—that was his last shot.

"Oracle, are far away are the by now?" Joker asked, putting his gun away in his coat.

"Far enough to be out of danger," Oracle answered, "You need to—"

"Working on that!" He shouted back, coming to a stop after spotting another group of shadows that had come to help deal with him. By his count, this new group consisted of fourteen more shadows, making the total twenty-six (provided the one shadow survived its fall and getting shot).

Fourteen in front, and twelve or eleven in the back with buildings to his left and right effectively boxing him in—looks like he wasn't going to get out of this without getting his hands dirty.

Luckily for him, being in an open space like this meant that he could use a little surprise he'd been saving.

Joker began sprinting at the group of fourteen shadows in front of him again. Reaching into another one of his coat pockets, Joker tossed a bright gem at the approaching abominations.

The shadows ignored the gem at first, thinking it to be no more remarkable as a random tree or rock on a sidewalk. However, this immediately changed the second the gem impacted with ground causing an explosion that blew several of them pieces and shrouded the rest in dust and smoke.

With the area shrouded, Joker had the perfect chance to slip away unnoticed. Proceeding with the original plan, Joker used the smoke as cover until he found a manhole that'd lead to the sewers. Time to go…

"Ugh," Joker groaned, climbing out of the sewers and into another part of the city. He was going to have to bathe for days to make that smell go away. Does their great, great lord and savior Yaldabaoth give everyone food, housing, or a name that's easy to pronounce? Nope, but he does give them plumbing that—as Joker could attest to—is very functional.

"Glad to see you're alright Joker," the boy looked up and saw one of his blue-haired friends.

"Alright is not what I'd call myself," Joker shuddered, taking Yusuke's hand so that he could stand up again. "The van still as I left it?" he asked as his body was briefly covered in a blue flame, only to disappear just as quickly leaving him in nothing more than ordinary school clothes with a bag still being carried on his shoulder.

"Makoto isn't happy with how long you decided to drag things out," Yusuke warned, stopping as they approached a dark and abandoned building with a garage that was likely used for dropping off goods or such before everything went to hell some years back, "neither is Futaba for that matter."

"Oh boy…" Akira whined, not liking the mental images coming to mind. Futaba being angry was one thing—just make her some coffee or something and all is forgiven. Makoto on the other hand… eh, she can't be that angry with him, right?

"Thanks for the warning," Akira said, approaching the back door of the van that he had left concealed in the darkness earlier and knocked on its back doors. "It's me, Mona. Can we come in now?"

"Took you long enough," A voice coming from the van said before its back doors were opened revealing a girl with long orange hair sitting on her laptop and another girl with brown hair sitting in the driver's seat.

Futaba looked up from her laptop, "welcome back, Joker!" she greeted.

"Good to be back," Akira returned climbing into the van with Yusuke behind him. "Ugh, Queen, please never make me go through another sewer again."

"You're lucky you got back at all." And thus began one of Makoto's lectures as she started the vehicle and began driving. "Do you know how close the human authorities were to arriving?"

"I get it, I get it…" Akira waved it off like he had so many other lectures. "I'll be quicker next time."

"You said that the last three times." Futaba muttered with her eyes glued to her laptop. Someone had to keep watch on all the cameras in case the authorities caught wind of his escape route or if they were close to finding the van.

"Alright, so maybe I've been taking baby steps…" the raven-haired boy shrugged. "All is well if it ends well."

"I wouldn't call this well," Futaba said, pinching her nose.

"Hey, I have to walk around with this following me now." Akira crossed his arms. "Oh, and uh… sorry for whatever it must be like for you, Mona."

Being in public and on the road, Morgana was unable to give a worded response but that didn't stop him from letting out a soft whine to voice his displeasure.

"Please tell me you kept the bag clean." Makoto groaned, opening the windows opting to just let the cold air in rather than deal with that foul stench.

"Don't worry. The bag's fine." Akira assured them, causing everyone to let out a relieved sigh.

"I must ask, how did you manage to keep the bag clean but not yourself?" Yusuke asked his comrade.

Akira closed his eyes and slowly shook his head, "you all better appreciate this sacrifice."

"Sure thing…" Futaba said before glancing back at Makoto.

"… as soon as you get a bath." Makoto finished.

"I get it! I get it!"

"I'm back!" Akira announced his return to the hideout—a former café that also served as Akira's place of residence. Once this had been a place where people gathered to enjoy the small things in life—coffee, company, quiet, and the like—and now, it like every other café and restaurant before was shut down with Yaldabaoth and the authorities handling the regulation of pretty much every human necessity imaginable, rendering places like this to be nothing more than another building for the remnants of humanity to hold up in.

The others had dropped him off at some bathhouse to get clean and left him to walk the rest of the way. Even that was kept under the watchful eye of this new world's government. The entire time, there would literally be someone watching you bathe just to ensure you both don't take too long and so no one tries to steal some of the water for drinking—it was just as uncomfortable as it sounds. There was a reason most people didn't bathe most of the year now.

"Akira, you don't smell anymore!" were Futaba's first words the second he walked in. Leave it to her to immediately bring that up again.

"Ugh, don't remind me." Akira groaned before turning to the middle-aged man sitting on the table watching the TV, "Sojiro, remind me why I put up with their constant abuse again."

"Because it's probably because of something stupid you did." Sojiro answered immediately with his infinite wisdom that was probably fueled by all the curry he makes whenever he has the chance.

"Thanks," Akira scoffed before turning back to Futaba. "The others upstairs?"

"They've been helping themselves." Futaba answered with a mischievous giggle. Usually they just robbed one of the points where rations are handed out and then they'd slip out unnoticed, a chance to pig out like this was pretty rare and it was clear everyone was going to capitalize on the opportunity.

"They better not eat it all…" Akira muttered under his breath, climbing up the stairs and to his room.

The room itself was hardly remarkable. It was just a dusty old attic with a sofa, desk, and a makeshift bed. Most people would probably call this standard of living poor back in the day, but now most would kill for something like this—sometimes literally.

Speaking of kill, the glares Akira received from the girls, Mona, and Yusuke sure made him question his lifespan.

Haru, Makoto, and Ann were both sitting on the sofa stuffing their faces with what Sojiro said was called 'pudding', Yusuke was sitting by the desk and from the smell of it seemed to be enjoying some coffee, and Ryuji was apparently helping himself to Akira's bed and some soup.

"So… how's the leg Ryuji?" Akira asked, hoping that that would somehow ease the girls' glares. Although, for some reason despite them not moving in the slightest, he felt that he might've made things worse.

"Eh, it's better than before." Ryuji said, rubbing his leg that was currently in a cast. Some time back, Skull had gotten a little too reckless on an operation with Akira and ended up breaking his leg. Pretty soon he should be walking again… that is, if he's telling the truth.

"Uh huh," Akira said before turning to Ann, "how was he really?"

"He almost cried when he tried walking again," Ann admitted with a sigh.

"It was brave of him to try," Haru said, cringing at the memory, "but maybe it wasn't the best idea to try next to the stairs."

"W-What?! Hell no! I was just... uh…" Ryuji fumbled for an excuse or explanation. The site was entertaining enough that the girls were laughing, including Futaba who had just walked in and was standing next to Akira.

"See Ryuji," Akira chuckled and walked over to pat his friend on the back, "this is why we leave you with baby sitters every day."

"Maybe we should start doing that with you." And just like that, Mona made his triumphant return by jumping onto the table and pulling the pin on that grenade again.

"Guys, come on, it all worked out." Akira said, nudging Ryuji to scoot so he could sit down.

"Do we need to list off the things you've done?!" Makoto said, balling her hands into fist.

"Um… fed a bunch of people?"

"You put a target on their backs." Makoto said keeping her voice stern like a captain berating their subordinate. "You do remember how much danger they were in—that they're still in— right?"

"Well, okay sure, but—"

"And let's not forget about you deciding to fight shadows," Morgana followed up. "What would've happened if they cornered you?"

"I'd have used another gem?"

"That we steal from them!" Morgana shouted as loud as his small feline form would allow, "their stations are probably going to be even more heavily guarded now!"

"Speaking of which," Futaba spoke up, "how many rounds do you have left?"

"…" Akira blinked, not looking forward to whatever was about to happen next.

"You're out, aren't you?" Morgana let out an exasperated sigh.

"Look, what would you all have done!" Akira screamed, jumping out of his seat. "Fine, I got a little carried away. But those people have families to feed, family that are probably starving near-death. I couldn't just walk away with that on my shoulders."

"It's not that, Akira," Ann said, shaking her head.

Yusuke leaned forward in his seat, "I believe what the others are trying to say is that their ire comes not from your intentions, but your means of accomplishing them." He said in his usual one-of-a-kind neutral tone.

"Dude, think we'd get angry over you feeding a bunch of people?" Ryuji asked.

"Right… right… sorry." Akira said, sitting back down.

"At least you were smart enough to use one of your gems," Mona let out a relieved sigh, "the last thing we need is them knowing you're a persona user."

'Persona-user,' being labeled as such as a death sentence around here. There were very few things that made Yaldabaoth actually execute people, and that was certainly one of them. Whereas most people were sent to one of the Farms or come camp, Persona-users were killed on the spot with no trial, prison, or anything.

Word is, however, there are at least two living Persona-users working with Yaldabaoth. It's likely that they were identified at a young age, and/or were from some influential family to avoid having their child die.

That or maybe he's just paranoid enough that he thinks that he'll need them one day. It certainly possible, especially considering how xenophobic he seems to be for anyone coming from what people have dubbed No Man's Land—the place that separates Yaldabaoth's little domain from whatever the hell is on the other side.

Needless to say, it was pretty important that they keep their special talents to themselves for as long as they can.

"How 'bout this," Akira sat back down, back against the wall, "next time, Makoto and come along and make sure I don't do anything dumb again?"

"I can agree to that." Makoto said, smiling in approval.

"Does this mean that I'm going to be stuck babysitting Ryuji again?" Ann whined, clearly not pleased by the prospect.

"Well… Yusuke could help this time." Their leader suggested with a shrug.

"I do not see the harm in that," Yusuke agreed. "Art is capable of expressing many things, perhaps all that Ryuji needs now is one such outlet?"

"W-Wait, what?"

"Hey, I heard there's some street performer around this time," Akira said, standing up to grab his bag which Mona immediately hopped in. "I think I'm going to go check it out."

"Ooh, I love street performers!" Haru said, grabbing her things.

"Eh, why not? I'm in." Ann was quick to follow suite.

"Can't be any worse than what Ryuji's about to go through." Makoto chuckled to herself.

"Nah, I've been meaning to change some hardware on my PC lately." Futaba said, but continued to walk out with the rest.

"B-But… guys…" Ryuji let out a weak whimper, realizing he was now all alone with Yusuke who was now talking about art.

"Allow me to go over a form that is sadly underappreciated—the art of the selfie!"

Why couldn't the others have just killed him?

Akira exhaled into his hands before rubbing them together to create friction. "Is it colder than usual, or is it just me?"

"Father says that the climate's temperature has been getting lower recently." Haru answered. "I think even Yald—"

"Lord…" Akira was quick to correct her. In the hideout was one thing, but now they were in public walking down the street. Even the slightest mistake could mean the difference between waking up in your bed tomorrow or in cuffs and surrounded by guards.

"R-Right," Haru corrected herself. "I think even Lord Yaldabaoth's most loyal servants are having trouble with the famines it's causing."

"Speaking of famines…" Ann said, looking off to the side at a site that was too common now. People had a habit of just sitting out in the streets and begging for food or something to spare.

Normally Yaldabaoth took care of those under his wing, but if he had reason to think your loyalty was anything but absolute, your options for just about any job were next to nothing. In the early days, there were black markets trading ration cards but they were always put to rest fairly quickly.

"Here," Makoto said, handing a few of the ration cards she had on hand to one of the men in tattered clothing and looked dangerously thin. One of the benefits to being young in this day and age meant that Yaldabaoth made sure that simply having a kid guaranteed rations—provided you were willing to let it be 'educated' by government sanctioned schools.

"Thank you, miss." The man thanked, his voice was raspy and hoarse. The poor guy probably hadn't even had anything to drink for a while.

"Please miss," A woman said, clutching a child wrapped in blankets. "Spare one for me and my baby."

"Please, I haven't eaten in days."

They just kept coming.

"Ma'am, please…"

"I'll die unless…"

"P-Please… I… I…" the last one was a boy at around twelve to thirteen, unable to even finish his sentence without being interrupted into a coughing fit.

"I don't have enough for everyone…" Makoto said, glancing at the small number of cards she had. Her sister was a prosecutor (even in a world like this, Yaldabaoth still gave them 'trials' for most crimes) so she had more than the norm, but there were just so many people…

One moment it'd be a group of five, then eight, then fourteen, and then twenty-five, and it just kept going up and up.

"Take these and spread them around," Akira said, passing a stack from his bag to the sickly man. "Make sure everyone gets one, and then the rest go to the sick and kids, alright?"

The man nodded, "thank you sir." He said before passing the cards around to everyone.

"Where'd you get those?" Ann asked.

"Still had a few from one of our previous… excursions." Akira answered, shrugging after the brief pause when he was forced to select his words carefully. Even among those you help, you never know when someone might stab you in the back.

"It saddens me to see people like this," Haru said, softening her gaze as she looked upon everyone. If she could, she'd gladly help make sure they're all fed and given a home, but there was nothing she could do, especially with a man like her father at the head of the family.

"Ever wonder if it's this bad everywhere?" Akira asked the others, watching people clutch a tiny card like it's their lifeline before walking (or sometimes limping) to some checkpoint to have their first meal in days.

"You're talking about past there aren't you?" Ann asked, "Who knows? I can't imagine it being much better."

The domain past No Man's Land—it's been the thing of bedtime stories ever since the world went to hell from what he's heard. There's always a different story from someone from beyond there who managed to sneak inside this place.

Some say the land is ravaged by shadows. Some says it's being torn apart by daemons. There was even one guy who said there's some daemon in human form killing anything it wants. But in all of those stories, there was only one thing they all agreed on—the name of the god who rules there…

Nyarlathotep…

"Ooh, is that him!" Ann said, pointing to another man sitting in a foldable chair with a guitar in his hand.

"Yup, sure looks like him." Akira nodded, gesturing the others. If the word around town is right, he's not even doing this for tips or anything; his sole motivation is providing music to the beggars and anyone else willing to listen.

According to Sojiro things like listening to music was pretty common in his time but now it's a luxury to be savored. There were so many things that used to be so common then, but now it only seems like a fantasy.

Instead, they're left in a world full of starvation and watching people suffer under the thumb of some tyrannical deity.

Whatever it's like in Nyarlathotep's domain, it can't be much worse than here.

The art of the selfie… good god, it's Life is Strange all over again.

Well, that's chapter one. It's never fun starting a new story for me—far too busy wondering "should I have done more? Less? Was this a terrible idea after all? Why do I suddenly feel the urge to end it in a church?"

Also, in case it's not obvious, this is very much in the AU territory. Things have played out pretty differently than from 1999 onwards (that meaning from pre-P3 through P5). Personally, I'm not expecting this to be that popular, but it'll help with the burn out… I hope.

Also, I couldn't find an image of Yald with Nyar, so enjoy the image of just Yaldy...

Update: I kinda hated how I ended the chapter originally, so I added another part at the end there. Hope you all like it.