Author's Notes: Good evening, my esteemed readers! Yep, we're still moving forward with the best Persona 3 fic on the internet, and good news: this should be the longest one of the last chapters to come out. Should be smooth-ish sailing from here.
Famous last words.
Next, I'd like to take the moment to thank everyone. I say that every time, but it bears repeating given how people have reviewed and asked if this is still active, and I want to say that I appreciate the comments and interest. Far from being an inconvenience or "whiny babies on the internet demanding their toys," you guys have been more than patient in the face of long chapters and lengthy delays. Whether you've commented, faved, or are just dropping by regularly to see if there's an update, thank you.
Brightwizard21: Some things will happen, very much so. Lots to happen between now and the end, but we are getting there. Thanks for reading, and enjoy!
Ramix: Great to see you again, glad you liked it. The question naturally arises, then: which ending's better? That one or this one?
MasterDarkElf: Thanks for the review! I'm keeping the ending close to the vest, I'm sure you understand why, but I'm looking forward to getting there. With this chapter, we're that much closer. Glad you like the pairing, it is the best choice and everyone else just hasn't seen that yet. And as to Ken, that might be one of my favourite parts in the story, giving him a proper arc and building on what the game didn't give us. If I succeeded and people liked it, then I'm glad. Thanks again, and enjoy the chapter.
Heroking121: Very well, I'll take that as praise. Thanks for the review, and let me know which part of this chapter caught your eye, yeah?
Special thanks to Firion on this one. He wanted me to make the most of a few key scenes this time around. "Make us feel it," he said. "Show us the bodies," he said. Here is what I came up with, good buddy – thanks for the kick.
The soundtrack for the chapter is "Hell Urge" by Midnight Danger. You'll know when to turn it up.
Chapter 25 – Händedrücken
When Minato woke up, feeling like every muscle was overextended from hair to heels, he realized just how funny perspective was. A year ago, the kind of pain he was in right now would have been crippling. Pushing himself so hard with his Personas, the sense that his nerves and mind had been taxed like when he'd fought Metis, might have convinced him to sit a fight out or, even worse, give up entirely. But having gone through so much, he was becoming used to passing out one place and coming to in another, and the accompanying pain was just something that reminded him he'd survived the fight that put him here.
Perspective.
It was that same view that let him smile when he saw Mitsuru at his bedside, looking tired herself but otherwise clean and washed. Rather than wallow on his defeat and mope, he got to see her first thing in the morning, same as he had every morning since their arrangement went into effect. Even if he could barely move, even if blinking and breathing hurt, that alone made the pain worth it.
"You're awake," she noted, stroking him hand.
"Yep. Good morning."
"You pushed yourself last night."
He glanced at the clock – it was almost noon – and calculated how much he'd slept. "Yeah, it... just kinda turned out that way."
"It was worth it, I assume?"
"Yes. Even if I lost, it cleared a few things up."
"And created some new problems?"
He chuckled. "How did you know?"
"Isn't that always how it goes with us?"
"It does seem like it, doesn't it?"
She nodded and straightened. "If you're well, then I'll get back to work."
He caught her wrist. Never mind her movements, even the smallest parts of her were tense. "I'm sorry I worried you."
She turned, fixing her features into a mask. "Worried me?"
"Yeah."
"Please elaborate."
He let go of her wrist and reached up, fingers touching her cheeks and around the eyes, making her pulse quicken. "You get this pinched look when you're stressed, and you get a bit pale when you haven't slept enough. Then over here–" she squirmed a bit; that tickled, "–gets a bit tight when you're bottling things up."
She cleared her throat, trying for authority. "You've worked all of this out through rigorous analysis? Observed these changes and made note of them?"
"Yep. Have for months. I've had the time, and the subject material has been fascinating."
"Is that so?"
"Very. I never get tired of studying her."
Mitsuru leaned in. "Then you shouldn't frighten her. Summoning that many Personas would push anyone, but summoning something completely new on your own? Against something that Akihiko and Iori couldn't get near? They had to heal you on the way here, you know, and Yukari spent half the night here, helping me. Your heart almost stopped."
Minato winced. "Took all of you to keep me going? Sorry about that. I didn't think I could go that far."
"It's one thing to push your boundaries, but Akihiko says you went past anything he's ever seen. That includes the Shadow on the bridge and Aigis. Why? Because Mochizuki was a Shadow?"
"It was more than that. It was... personal. Wasn't what I was expecting. I've got some thinking to do."
"Would you like some help?"
"Not yet. Whatever it was has me going in circles, and you'd tell me I need to rest."
She smiled despite herself. "You'll think about it anyway."
"Of course, but I'll do it quietly in bed."
She couldn't help herself. Despite her residual fear and anger, she laughed. "I'll leave you to your quiet thinking, then. We're getting into Ikutsuki's computer today. Let me know if you need anything."
She got up to leave, but he caught her hand again, rubbing along her fingers. "There is one thing."
"Yes?"
"Let's go on a date soon. We haven't done that in a while, and... well, it feels like everything's picking up speed. I don't want to neglect what's most important to me."
She blinked, blushed fetchingly, and gave a girlish little smile. She had more money than some countries, a Persona and the fighting chops to back it, but he could make her melt with a word or a look. "Picking up lines from Iori again?"
"Not at all. That one was mine."
"Then I can give you full credit, or blame, for it." She ruffled his hair, delighting in his grumbling protests, and slipped down to kiss him, silencing them. "Soon. I look forward to it. I expect you'll make it something memorable."
He smiled, either from her kiss or her words. "I'll make sure I put together the perfect date. While I'm following the doctor's instructions and resting here, of course."
She let his hand go and left, her cheeks starting to hurt from the smile.
When she got to Ikutsuki's office, however, the grim air in the room brought her into focus. Everyone was there, looking over printed files and poring over the computer. One of the bookshelves had been pulled out to reveal a hidden safe, broken open. The smell of smoke still hung in the air, probably from a trap to burn the contents if anyone got in.
"You've gotten somewhere?" Mitsuru asked in greeting. Iori and Amada looked pale while Akihiko paced and twitched, itching to tear something apart. Koro sat in the corner while Yukari, Fuuka and Aigis were staring at the computer.
"There's a lot more here than we expected," Fuuka commented. "There were hidden drives on here and even more security than what Aigis knew about. Ikutsuki really wanted to hide his tracks."
"You got into it?"
"It took some work, but yes."
Yukari stretched. "You'd think that if he'd go to this much trouble, he'd just take the files with him. Or erase them when he left."
"I disagree," Aigis commented. "It seems that he was adding to his prior research, making observations and testing them against the records from ten years ago. If so, then he would have been adding to these files until shortly before he left."
"Then why not take them with him?"
"If he reached the end he was looking for," Mitsuru surmised, "then he wouldn't need to take it with him. He knows what he learned, and now he can act on it."
"So he left it here... why?"
"I suspect," Aigis put in, "that this speaks to Ikutsuki's ego. He looks upon SEES and the Kirijo Group with contempt, sees them as beneath him. Some of his records indicate as much. His respect is reserved for Kirijo Kouetsu and no one else. If he knew that this information was here and thought we would erase it from attempting access, then we would have been left with nothing from our own error. Everything would have been lost and he would be far enough away to gloat. An injurious insult, you might say."
"It's 'adding insult to injury,' Aigis," Mitsuru supplied. "That's a good assessment of Ikutsuki, and I'm glad he's so arrogant or we wouldn't have anything to work with." She stood in the middle of the group, reminiscent of giving orders in the Command Room. "Then tell me what we've found."
The others nodded among each other. "First," Fuuka began, "we learned that what Minato-kun does with his Personas, fusing them into something stronger, has a precedent in a place we didn't expect."
"Didn't expect, how? From another person?"
"No. There are records of experiments trying to make the Shadows take a host, trying to force some of the... subjects into it, but it never took. They actually put kids into the testing chambers and let the Shadows in, but the Shadows left the kids alone. One actually attacked the testing staff, like it knew they were trying to use it. Where they did have some success was with Death. When they experimented on Death, they noticed that it could shift its properties, change into something depending on what the stimuli was. They exposed it to other Shadows, smaller ones or maybe larger ones that weren't recorded, and it adapted after it consumed them. In the rare cases when the Shadow was a threat, Death adapted first and tried new angles before killing it. There are notes how it was the one that best learned from experience and analysis."
"That was the precursor to Death consuming the other Shadows when we killed them," Akihiko put in. "We think that's when Kouetsu realized what Death could do. Must have been like winning every lottery at the same time."
"And it's why Death can defeat the other Shadows," Mitsuru added. "It always had an edge, and once it was sealed inside Minato, it gave that edge to him."
"Explains why he fought like he did the other night," Iori said, "but is there anything in there about us? We've changed our Personas, so did they know about that?"
"It doesn't seem so," Fuuka replied. "There were observations and hypotheses about where Personas could go, what they could become, but never anything concrete. It looks like once they started seeing changes in the Shadows, they didn't care as much about the Persona-Users. From what Ikutsuki says, with so many of the kids having problems with Personas, not quite reaching threshold or lacking the same grit that you did, Mitsuru-senpai, it seemed like the Shadows were a better research avenue. If it's any consolation, you set the bar pretty high when you awakened yours."
"I'm flattered," she murmured. "What else?"
"Kirijo Kouetsu knew about Nyx," Aigis said. "We do not know how he learned of It, but at one point he pushed the research and development departments into a very clear direction. He knew what It was and he knew that the Shadows were the keys and beacons for It. What he did not learn – not entirely, it seems – was how to call It properly. I suspect he was experimenting in this direction when the Shadows escaped and destroyed the labs."
"Considering the outcomes," Akihiko noted, "are we sure the Shadows getting out was a delay? Maybe the Shadows killing everyone was what the old man intended, that it was what helped him in the long run. Maybe they needed more Lost and dead people to get Nyx's attention, and the labs were like a beacon or a starting signal to approach. Then Nyx gets closer, driving people crazy, which causes more death and problems and serves as a bigger signal, so to speak."
"In all likelihood," Mitsuru posited, "there were experiments to simulate a scenario similar to what we're already seeing in Minato and Mochizuki, the Appriser being present to contact Nyx. If they knew about Nyx and needed a means of reaching out to It, then imitating Shadows would be a way to do it, and failing that, killing people to try every angle. Such a thing would have involved the sort of energy that flattened the labs ten years ago."
"Was there any mention of Thanatos back then?" Yukari asked. "Moros and Hypnos are connected to Nyx, so them popping up now can't be a coincidence, and Ikutsuki must have known something was happening when he heard about Strega."
"That appears to be a recent development," Aigis observed. "No mention of them was made in the notes, and I do not recall hearing about them ten years ago. However, such a connection would not have escaped Ikutsuki's notice. I suspect that he wanted us to fight Strega so that he could examine any outcomes that related to Nyx."
"You're probably right," Fuuka commented. "He must have connected the dots as soon as he saw them. It even shows in his records that he knew about Strega before we did – he's how they got their Evokers and the suppressants. He was continuing his observations and experiments, using us against the Shadows and recording our debriefings to test his theories and narrow his findings about Nyx. When Minato-kun mentioned the Appriser to him, that's when he must have known what was going on. Once he had the answers he wanted, he waited until the other Shadows were dead, then set Aigis and Minato-kun against each other."
"Things didn't work out how he planned, and that's when he bailed," Iori muttered. "I think all of us have been surprises for him."
"That is correct, Junpei-san, "Aigis noted almost happily. "Some of those surprises were quite unpleasant. He had very few positive comments for some of us, yourself included."
"Thanks for clarifying that, Aigis."
"I am glad to help."
"Something else in here is about the drugs," Akihiko noted, pointing at the half-burnt documents from the safe. "It's not just the suppressants, though we figured out how they work. Seems it's like putting human potential into an artificial cage. Even if someone can't manifest their Persona, it's still in there and trying to get out, trying to integrate with the host because that's what its purpose is. Restricting it is like cramming a hot dog through a pinhole, only the hot dog keeps pushing and the pinhole needs to be rebuilt every day. That's why they slowly kill the host if it's a normal Persona like Shinji's. Give them to an artificial User like Yoshino and the Persona becomes unstable, probably because the User didn't come to their power naturally. Anyway, it looks like he kept testing other avenues once he realized what they could do, but he also tried drugs that could amplify someone's abilities."
Mitsuru's eyes narrowed. "What was his reasoning for this? Was he carrying on from experiments from ten years ago?"
"The records are spotty on that – like I said, we lost some of them getting the safe open. But it looks like he was experimenting with the idea of reversing the damage the suppressants did and stumbled on an amplifier. Goes without saying that, if it worked, he could juice someone up for a fight, and Strega would have loved that. Maybe he could have even forced someone into manifesting an artificial Persona if he needed more pawns or if he wanted to replace one of us."
"This couldn't have gone anywhere, or we would have seen it."
Akihiko shrugged. "I'm not sure. It sounds like he was close to the test phase, that he had some amplifiers made, but the records stop there. Maybe he gave up because he couldn't use them on us, or maybe he left before he could get anywhere with them. Either way, he didn't have access to anything viable before he ran."
"Could be," Iori put in, "that he would've used Shinjiro-senpai to test them. It would make sense, powering him up to bring him back to normal, but if it fails, well, he was dying anyway, right?"
Akihiko's fists clenched. "Shinji wouldn't have gone through with that, but if Ikutsuki had... had even tried..."
"He didn't have the chance," Mitsuru reminded them. "And Shinjiro would never have gone along with it."
Akihiko nodded.
"It seems Ikutsuki kept a journal along with all his records," Yukari noted with a grimace. "I don't think any of us doubt that he's crazy, but this really nails it down."
"It makes the greatest sense, our course of action. The only constant is entropy and death, whether for organic or inorganic matter. We have looked to the stars for centuries, probed space for decades, and all we see of life is bacteria. Human existence must be an aberration, not just to exist but to have progress as far as it has. Like an infection. It must be cleansed. The death of everything is the answer, and Nyx is the means to that answer.
"They will see my point, one way or another. They will see the truth of my vision. This will be the chance to clean the slate once and for all, to eliminate the fortunate accident, the persistent virus, we call 'life.' Humanity has tried for millennia to accomplish this, and the only thing greater than our drive to destroy each other is our persistence in surviving and multiplying.
"That ends now. Nyx is the answer, and She will achieve what we cannot."
"These aren't Ikutsuki's ideas," Mitsuru noted. "Not all of them. My grandfather talked about some of this."
"In front of you?"
"He'd talk to himself sometimes, forget I was there," she explained. "I didn't think it was unusual until Father stopped me from going to the labs. I think Ikutsuki was adding to my grandfather's ideas, like a holy book or a manifesto."
"Looks like he wasn't just an insane ideologue," Akihiko noted. "There's some pretty smart stuff here, even if it's the smart kind of crazy. This one sounds like it was written earlier."
"None of the major religions deny the importance of death. Many use it and understand its utility. Christians propose that Christ died and was reborn, cleansing the world of sin through an act of sacrifice – a useful tool to control the fearful masses. The Egyptians sealed their dead with all their worldly riches, intent upon making them wealthy in the afterlife. Even the Buddha use death as their transitional mechanism from one form to the next. Nothing in life has more power than death, no matter what we tell ourselves.
"The ancients knew this, and they must have known that it is the answer to the problem life presents. This must be why they forbade their followers to die voluntarily, such as the Christian prohibition on suicide. Even later Buddhist writings speak of the infallibility of death, how even with our technology there is no way to specify what spirit went to what host, even assuming it was reincarnated. And even if one could be measurably shown to reincarnate closer to Nirvana, it's all in the service of non-existence anyway. And finally, even if one argued that good deeds and the persistence of life are rewards unto themselves, even those who are saved still die, often by circumstances that have nothing do with whatever they were saved from. Despite all delusion, all hope, death ends everything.
"The Shadows have given us the proof we need, and the means to access the truth and enact it: Death, and Nyx, are our answer to the mistake of life."
"Did he talk about Takeba-san while you were present?" Aigis asked Mitsuru.
"Yukari's father? Not that I recall. Why?"
"Takeba-san's notes suggest that he held a countervailing opinion to that of Ikutsuki and Kirijo Kouetsu. The likelihood of them not having spoken to each other on these topics is very low."
"What did my dad say?" Yukari asked
"See for yourself."
"I thought this fascination with death was a bad memo or a misunderstanding. But it's not just Kirijo-san, now Ikutsuki's talking about this stuff. He tried to talk to me about it, but I don't think he liked my answer. So there can be no confusion on the matter, I will put my thoughts into words here.
"Life is given value through action and achievement. What that means is up to every person, and it is up to them to decide what they will fight to bring about, and then work to make it happen. This fascination with death, this love of nihilism, utterly denigrates the accomplishments of the giants who have come before us. Ikutsuki says that our figures of mythology are lies, but he misses the point. Every culture has its heroes and gods, its figures of achievement and success. No culture has survived that wanted to end itself, so seeking to grow and transcend is in our nature, perhaps encoded into our DNA. As our heroes and gods transcend, so do we see the path to do it ourselves, and we do so as we have through cultural cohesion and innovations in technology for centuries and millennia. To assume that our capacity to grow and transcend is nothing because we still die misses the point: we are those figures, and they are us, projected onto the world. I believe this is why Personas take the forms of our heroes and gods, because a Persona is that capacity manifesting itself externally. And even those without Personas can become more than they were through application and drive. We grow and aspire and bring about positive change, and even in the worst atrocities of our history – particularly the atrocities of the 20th century, the genocides and entire societies left with nothing to stand on or work from – there is still the means to transcend. Fyodor Dostoevsky says that this is when the Self is revealed, both the means and the ends of our transcendence, and if every person has this available to them, then death is not what Ikutsuki thinks it is. Even if everything ends, something immutable passes on, from person to person, to persist and grow. Even from the lowest places, the potential to rise so high can be found. This is not nothing.
"Even if the future comes to annihilation, the fact that we can become more than we are under our own willpower is proof that our lives matter, that life itself matters. Ikutsuki's views overlook this concept, and that's why he is wrong."
"Is there any record of that conversation elsewhere?"
"Only here."
"The utter gall of that man. That Takeba, someone who neglects his own family, who has missed the birthdays of his wife and daughter whom he says he loves so much, could tell ME about the value of life is absurd. Whatever he thinks he values, his actions put a lie to his words. I would tell Kouetsu-sama about this, but I feel that Takeba's karma is about to turn."
"Nice to see he was so charming even before he went crazy," Junpei noted.
"There's more," Fuuka told them, "but... I'm not sure if we should hear it."
"Why not?"
"It's a message from Takeba-san to Yukari, datestamped the night the labs were destroyed."
Everyone looked at her, and Yukari nodded. "Go ahead."
The recording was digitized pandemonium. People ran and screamed, blood coloured the walls behind Takeba-san, and the man himself looked grim and determined. He spoke a caution about the Shadows, to stay away from them and how they were the mechanism to bring Nyx down. It was the original of the doctored version Ikutsuki had shown them at Yakushima. Then it continued.
"Even if this is the end, there must be a way to fight them. There's a weakness to the Shadows or they wouldn't have run away in the first place – they just would have called Nyx down and put an end to it all. Kirijo-san talked about something called the Appriser, how it was linked to the Shadows and Nyx. He was angry about it, and even seemed afraid of it. That must be an answer to all of this, but I don't know what it is or where to find it. Given the circumstances, it won't be me who finds that answer, but to whoever sees this, look for the Appriser and find a way to fight the Shadows. Humans have evolved and fought to overcome things like this, and whatever you have to do to stop this madness, I know you'll pull it off. And if you can, protect my family and tell them I tried.
"To my daughter. Yukari. I'm sorry I couldn't be there, and it doesn't seem like I'm getting out of here now. But I love you and your mother, more than I have words to say. My life began when I met her, and the moment you were born was... I hope you experience it yourself someday. Be safe, be strong, and if... if by some strange twist of fate you're able to set any of this right, then I know I'll have left everything in good hands.
"There was so much harm done here, but the potential for good was here too, in the children with their Personas, in Mitsuru-chan and in Kirijo Takeharu. Don't blame them, Yukari. They're our best chance of setting things right, and if they survive this, then they might be able to fix what we've set loose tonight. Live a good life, be strong, and look after your mother for me.
"This... this is goodbye, my little girl. Daddy loves you, and he will forever."
The recording cut out there, and there wasn't a dry eye in the room. Junpei and Akihiko looked away, Ken sniffled and murmured a prayer under his breath, and Fuuka's cheeks were wet with tears. When the last words from Takeba-san ended, Yukari turned to Mitsuru and grabbed her in a hug, crying into the redhead's shoulder.
Mitsuru patted her clumsily, so unused to giving emotional comfort but set on trying for the sake of her friend. Yukari trembled in Mitsuru's arms, shook so hard she risked losing her footing. Mitsuru held her tight and let her cry it out. The damage done a decade before could finally begin to heal, the cracks left by Takeba-san's death breaking open again so that they could close. Mitsuru knew this was what Yukari needed more than anything, and she held her friend through it all.
"I got it, Daddy," Yukari whispered through the tears, tightening her hold. "I got it. I'll keep going, and I'll finish this. I promise you."
Mitsuru felt something click then, a shift that was at once subtle and incredible. Outside of the Dark Hour, against the weight of reality, Yukari's Persona changed. Mitsuru felt the surge of power, momentarily saw and felt wind passing through pear trees in Kyoto on a bright summer day, a wind carrying the laughter and love of a family doting on their newborn daughter. Air currents swirled around them, whistled in her ears, before it died down. Not bombastic or explosive like the others had been, yet she knew her friend's resolve was unshakable now, and a new Persona had been born.
Reality shivered, ringing like a glass bells, and then quieted under Yukari's gentle, cleansing sobs. It was only a minute later when she let Mitsuru go and stepped back. "Thanks."
"You're welcome."
The others came over to offer support, and even Junpei patted her on the back. "Seems like you're in it up to your eyes, same as the rest of us. Ready to put this thing to bed?"
Yukari chuckled through her tears. "Yeah. Right there with you." She looked at the records. "What else is there?"
Minato stretched again, looking at the clock in the foyer and testing his sore muscles. Mitsuru watched him disapprovingly, having been against him being up and around so soon, but she let him do as he wanted while the others sat in chairs or on the couch.
"He'll be here," Junpei told him. "He's not the kinda guy to stand us up."
"I know. Seems like he was always popping up when I didn't want him to, but now that he's on a schedule, he's taking his time. Did you ever see him around town after the fight?"
"No, and no one else I know did either. I don't know where he's been, or even if he needs to be somewhere given what he is, but..."
"Yeah, I get it."
Junpei chuckled. "This is the only place in the world where a conversation like that makes sense."
"Sounds completely normal. That's probably a bad sign." Minato glanced out the window, and saw no one. Before he could check his phone, the grandfather clock in the foyer stopped, and a half-second later the Dark Hour began, warping their reality in its now-familiar alien non-reality.
And then Ryoji knocked and entered. The glowing halo effect was there again, but muted and dim. "Good evening," he greeted, and his voice was that of their flirty classmate, but more serious. It was also mostly his face that was in place. Mostly.
Minato left the window and stood by the others, testing their reactions. Akihiko-senpai and Junpei were tense, no doubt recalling what they'd seen a few nights ago. Koro sat, ready to act but not growling, while Ken eyed Ryoji mistrustfully. Yukari and Fuuka watched, uncertain, and Mitsuru stood tall while Aigis stared at their guest, her fingers twitching. She was the one Minato was most interested in watching, and he knew she was restraining herself from acting on the strong sense of distaste she felt. Same as what Minato felt.
Ryoji seemed to pick up on those vibes, and he turned to their blond companion. "It's been a while, Aigis. You've changed, but so have I, so let's get this out of the way: Are we going to have a problem?"
"You speak as though you expect me to accept your presence here, that I should take your words on good faith, even after you defeated my comrade. After you caused so much destruction, back then and now."
"You know better than that. If I'd wanted anyone dead, they wouldn't be standing right now. I stopped Minato from killing me, and you and I both know that my fight with him could have gone differently."
"I also know that, to ensure your own survival this close to Nyx's arrival is out of character. Your purpose is to facilitate Her coming, and you will act to achieve that end. If you didn't die at our hands, then you could have died at your own. Yet you have not done these things. You defied my expectations when you fought Minato-san, but I cannot rely upon your assurances."
Ryoji sighed. "That's something I need to talk to them about. Will you let me do that?"
"You intend to just talk?"
"Yes. I didn't come here to fight, and I won't unless I have to defend myself. If it's worth anything, you have my word."
Aigis clenched her fist, but nodded. "I can accept that, for now. We will put off any hostilities for another time and place."
"I appreciate it." To the others, he waved and smiled. "Hey."
They gave him varied, but subdued, responses.
"You brought them up to speed?" Ryoji asked Akihiko-senpai.
"As much as I could. It's hard to sell them on the idea that a Shadow, or whatever you are, doesn't want to kill us, though. Goes against our experiences up to now."
"I understand. I appreciate your understanding, everyone. As much as you're willing to grant me, anyway." Minato's fingers itched for his sword, or his Evoker. His Personas circled in the sea of his soul like sharks, and Thanatos rumbled in his ears, twisting the Dark Hour as it tensed and bared its teeth, whispering new angles to strike from. And Ryoji knew it, probably felt it, and smirked. "I hope he doesn't try to get out again. The dorm wouldn't be big enough for him to fit, and I wouldn't hold back this time."
Minato grit his teeth, his instincts urging him to attack, but he stilled them. Those had been the same instincts that had destroyed the Shadows and served Nyx up to now. He needed to be better than that if he wanted to win. "He'll be good. They all will be. I mean, we're just talking, right?"
"Of course. May I?"
Ever the gracious host, Mitsuru nodded and indicated the middle of the foyer. "Yes. Come in. I considered having something ready for you, but I don't know what you can eat."
Ryoji chuckled with several voices, the boy and the teenager and the Shadow all echoing his words. "That's an academic discussion that would take us hours to get through. Not that I wouldn't enjoy the conversation, but there are other things at hand. Thank you for the offer, though."
"Let's get started, then," Minato suggested. "Our fight, it was supposed to go differently, wasn't it?"
Ryoji sighed. "No easy way around this. Yes. You've killed the others and they tried to kill you first. Only a few realized what you were, and now your job as the Appriser is to destroy Death to bring about the Fall. Once that happens, Nyx arrives, and life on this world will be extinguished."
"That's what you said before, that I shouldn't kill you? If I had, it would have made things worse?"
"I'm glad you remember that. Yes, Nyx would have descended in a matter of hours, while you were still weak. No one here has the strength to face her, same as they didn't have the strength to fight the other Shadows. Even right now, if all of you are at your strongest, I'm not convinced that you have a chance. But I live, so you have some more time."
"How much?" Mitsuru asked.
"The next full moon, on the last day of the year. December 31st. On the top floor of Tartarus."
"New Year's Eve," Akihiko noted.
Minato smirked. "That's fitting, isn't it? If you're following the patterns of the Arcana, then Death means the end of one thing and the beginning of another. If Nyx wins, then it's the beginning of the end, but if we do, then we've turned the page on Her and the Shadows. Gives us a new chance at life."
"That has always been the purpose of Death," Ryoji said. "A transitionary phase, from one form to another. A less destructive example of this would be the metamorphosis phase of a caterpillar into a butterfly. It is no longer what it was, and it has become something very different, yet both phases are necessary and something new, a fresh form of life, has come from the change."
"Then Ikutsuki and Strega have it wrong?"
"Ikutsuki does. He and Kouetsu Kirijo looked into the abyss and were consumed by it, so they sought to destroy indiscriminately. That's all he can do, all he works toward, and that is what focuses him and limits him."
"We've seen as much," Yukari commented.
"If making the Fall happen is your job," Junpei brought up, "I mean, your purpose like the other Shadows had a purpose, then why did you go against it? Hell, why are you telling us this in the first place and not letting us screw things up for ourselves?"
Ryoji shuffled, hiding a little behind his scarf and sounding only like the teenager. "I... I don't know. I should have. I'm supposed to and I was going to. I even meant to when I came to the park, in the middle of the fight, but then I... I didn't want to? Is that right?"
"You're not sure?" Minato asked. "Is that even possible?"
"I decided not to, so I acted against my nature, but... I've never done that before. I shouldn't be able to choose, especially not on something so important, something I was made for. Nyx is all, and I was born knowing that. All the others died at my, our, hand... but when I thought of ending it all, I..." Ryoji scratched his head. "I don't have an answer for that one. And if it makes you feel any better, it's going to drive me crazy until the 31st."
"Almost sounds like you've grown a conscience," Akihiko noted. "Like you're more human than you want to believe, and you've got choices of your own. Maybe you prefer life to being Death."
"Ten years in the soul of a human, it shouldn't have made any difference. Compared to Shadows and Nyx, you're not... well, excuse me, most people aren't that complicated. Most people don't come close. Was this because you can use a Persona, Onii-chan? Was it because of the duration? Because of how much you grew in that time?" He sighed. "I wish I knew, but it doesn't change what happened. I should have died. I didn't, and I have no desire to right now. I can't answer why."
"Can you help us?" Mitsuru inquired. "If you didn't follow Nyx's directive during the fight, maybe you can give us something that will improve our chances."
"I can't tell you very much. Part of me wants to, honestly, but nothing I'd say would make any sense. Nyx is... She simply is. There's no comparing Her to the other Shadows, not even to me. I have no idea how you'd fight Her, and you'll have to contend with me there, too."
"You'll fight us?"
"Part of me will. Death will. It has to, because it can't be anything but what it is, and one way or the other, that night is what decides everything. Death has to be there."
"So we'll fight again," Minato noted.
"Not us. Mochizuki Ryoji won't be there. The human part of me, this... facet of my soul, if that concept suffices, will be absent. I'm too human to be of any use to Nyx, and Death wouldn't need what little of me isn't a Shadow. You'll face the side of me that won't hold back. I hope you're ready for it by then."
"We will be," Junpei promised. "We'll all be ready."
"There is another way," Ryoji noted. "If you are all set on fighting Nyx, then I doubt you will take it, but there is a way for you to get out of fighting her."
"You're right; we won't take it," Yukari told him.
"You can't beat Nyx," Ryoji attested. "You don't know what She is. I do. I can grant you a merciful last month, without any memories of what you've done since this all started. You'll be normal, you won't have to fight, and you'll be able to be happy until She gets here. Then when the Fall comes, you won't notice anything as the curtain closes."
"Running," Akihiko snorted. "Is that what you're offering? An easy way out?"
"You know that we've been fighting this whole time, right?" Junpei added. "We gave up taking the easy way out a long time ago."
The others nodded or voiced their agreement. When Ryoji looked around, he saw only determination. "You're all serious?"
"Better to die on our feet than to live on our knees," Akihiko asserted.
Ryoji shook his head. "But you don't have a chance... Against Her...?" He chuckled. "But then again, I shouldn't be here right now, either, so maybe that's proof there's a chance. I don't think it's a big one – I don't think it's a chance at all. But maybe you'll prove me wrong. Actually, if you'll let me say this, you've all defied my expectations. I never thought I'd meet people like you."
"You should have gotten out more and met the right people, then," Akihiko replied.
"No. Humans are weak, selfish and twisted. The people in the labs ten years ago, the cruel ones were in charge and the few good ones said nothing. They did nothing. Their morals meant nothing to them in the face of reprisal, and people today are the same way. They're all blinded by short-term concerns, never breaking from the pack even when their conscience tells them to. They're cattle waiting to be led, and they'll even attack those who warn them and have their best interests in mind. What future can be had by a species like this?"
"If it was all that bleak, we wouldn't be here," Minato said. "We're here because there is a chance to set things right. And maybe people can be like that, but not everyone."
"Even people without Personas," Ken added. "They're fighting as hard as we are. We can't back down, not with their lives riding on this."
Ryoji shook his head. "I wonder. If people like you were here ten years ago, if you'd been there to guide things, then maybe it wouldn't have come this far."
"People like us were there back then," Yukari told him. "They were doing what they could with what they had, and they've given us the chances we have today. If it's not in your nature to fix things before the Fall, then pardon me if I don't think your advice or your assessments of our situation are accurate."
Ryoji winced, then laughed. "A fair point. I deserved that, didn't I?"
"Yeah, you did."
"Your optimism, your drive, it's something admirable. More than that, it might be the best side of your species. Hold onto that when the worst comes, when you're facing Death and Nyx. It might be enough."
"Can you help us in any other ways?" Mitsuru asked.
"It's not in my nature to consider Nyx's flaws, so I can't offer you any insight there. As I said, the majority of me will be on the top of Tartarus, waiting, and it will attack you with everything it can. Don't hold back against it, because it won't be me. It won't have any reservations about killing you. Aside from that, make the most of your time together. Treasure your bonds. You've come this far because of them, and even if you die, you'll die with friends."
"Then that will suffice."
"Could I ask something of you?"
"What could you want from us?"
"The Fall is inevitable now, but before it comes, I'd like to experience what I can of this city. The clubs and restaurants, the people, maybe even the hope and determination you're talking about. I'd like to enjoy what I can before it all ends."
The group bristled, the implications of a Shadow walking around painfully clear.
Ryoji held a hand up, forestalling protests. "You probably won't see me, and no one will be harmed by my presence. Things are too far along for me to have any influence anyway. I won't fight with you, and I won't interfere in anything you do. I'd appreciate the courtesy, as a chance to meditate on these changes since..." He shrugged boyishly. "Well, since I'm not even supposed to be alive. Best if I make the most of it, right?"
The others looked among themselves, discussed it for a moment, then Minato nodded. "That's acceptable. You won't interfere with the Kirijo Group or any of our efforts before the 31st?"
"You have my word. I can't make things any worse than those death cults I've seen around. There's a group of people who really need a proper leader, or just to stop making things worse."
"Would things be any better if they weren't there?" Ken asked. "Where Nyx and the Shadows are concerned, that is."
"Yes. You might have gotten an extra month out of it. That said, the closer Nyx gets, the worse people like that will become anyway, so be careful."
They nodded.
Ryoji checked the clock, then looked back at them. "Good luck, and... for whatever it's worth, I hope you get to next year. I don't know what that would look like, but I want to think things will get better if we do." Ryoji turned and left. When the door closed, it shut out the noise of the Dark Hour, leaving them in the silence with each other and their determination. It was perhaps the most peaceful the Dark Hour had ever been, like that was one last gift granted to them before the insanity of the present came knocking again.
"Lots to take in there," Junpei noted.
"No kidding," Yukari put in.
"Best to keep it small and workable," Minato told them. "We know what we have to do, where we have to do it, and who we have to do it to. Not much else matters, does it?"
"There is one thing that matters," Aigis offered. "Given what we learned from Ikutsuki's files and from what Ryoji said just now, I would like to propose a course of action, one that would benefit us and put something to rest."
"What is it?" Fuuka inquired.
She told them, and in no time there were fierce grins around the table.
People were amusing things.
This thought came to Takaya as he observed the living detritus that had congregated in the alleys, scraping together a meagre existence and wailing about the coming end times. He had no great interest in the cult that Jin had rallied and whipped up – anything Takaya did was for his own sake, and more people meant more interference. But the dedication of the converts in the face of annihilation was a twist on the pits of the human psyche that Takaya had never considered.
Take Hashiro-san, a grocery manager who had lost his parents to disease and his wife and children to a man with a larger salary. Once he'd given up the notion of getting any of those people or things back, he'd begun preying on younger girls, set on rebuilding what he'd lost. Not content to let them leave, he'd browbeaten them, physically and emotionally, until they looked at him with devotion, and Hashiro-san looked upon Sakaki with similar devotion for being given the opportunity.
Or Sayaka-san, the caretaker at an orphanage that had been stripped of its funding and resources. Day in and day out she'd endured the neglect and lies of government bureaucrats and her heart tore from reports of abuses heaped on the adopted children from their foster children. When she went to the police and officials, to everyone she could, she was ignored and brushed off. So sick of the excuses, she'd found the families of several of those bureaucrats, locked them into their vehicles, and lit the gas tanks ablaze, laughing maniacally all the while. "Now you'll appreciate loss while you're still alive," she'd said, running ragged into the alleys.
There were other people with other stories, most with victims of their own, but so many of them rang with the same tunes and chords: dissatisfaction with civilized life, hatred of the bloated establishment, and setting out to make something new, if terrible, before the end came.
With these developments had come a new headache, however.
Ikutsuki, so set on the idea that these people were his to play with and experiment on, had laughed and cajoled with Sakaki. "I need some of them. They have the potential, maybe for a Persona or something greater." The technician fingered several bottles of pills in his pockets. "The young ones, even some of the old ones... You'll lend them to me. As part of our agreement."
The bad taste grew in Takaya's mouth. Ikutsuki had made so many promises at first, and there had been some interesting developments based on his advice. But his nihilistic fixation on the congregation, seeing them as guinea pigs, felt short-sighted compared to the heights he'd initially proposed. "You're just experimenting on those who can't fight back," Takaya observed.
"What's wrong with that?"
"If you're setting out to find Persona potential, then consider that the strongest ones come from the strongest wills. You won't find them among victims, and you're avoiding anyone who might protest. What do you intend to learn?"
A manic gleam came to the man's eyes. "Isn't it obvious? Power. Life and death, in the palm of your hand. Isn't that why you do this? Isn't it intoxicating, with Nyx coming closer every day? You must feel it, close to Her as you are."
Honestly, the way the man spoke of Nyx was getting pathetic. Takaya had encountered no shortage of parishioners and priests in his life, all bowing and mouthing hypocrisies to some god or other, but this was a level of all-consuming fanaticism that warranted a padded cell. "I'm not like that, and that's not what I want."
"How can you say that? How can it not be? Look at them, how they follow you. What could you create from them? What could they become?"
Hypnos stirred at those words, and the beginnings of an idea sparked in Takaya 's mind. As Ikutsuki rattled those pill bottles again, however, Takaya had finally had enough. When Ikutsuki went toward a teenager boy leering at a young girl, Takaya grabbed the man and threw him against a grimy wall.
The noise startled those around him, calling their attention to him while Ikutsuki swore and brushed at his suit. "What are you doing?"
"Leave," Takaya commanded.
"What did you say?"
"You heard me. Your resources are of no use to me here, your antics have stopped being amusing, and if all you offer is words and mindless atrocities because your Kouetsu-sama was a better man, and monster, than you will ever be, then take it somewhere else. I'm sick of listening to you."
Ikutsuki went purple, apoplectic. "You... you dare speak to me like–"
Takaya drew his revolver and pulled the hammer back, aiming between the eyes. "Yes. I dare. This is what power grants me, and this is how I will use it. Get out. If you haven't in ten seconds, you'll be short a leg, and then the other if you don't move fast enough."
Ikutsuki swore and fumed, but when Takaya reached the seven count, the man turned and ran, tripping on garbage and crashing into dumpsters.
"Idiot," Takaya muttered. He turned to go back to his room, but the cultists had circled around him, looking up in admiration and reverence.
"Thank you, young master."
"He needed to go. He was unclean, unfit."
"He preyed on us, like the others. You have not."
"Will you lead us? Protect us? Where shall we go?"
Takaya wanted to tell them off, wanted to insist that he was a person like any other and he hadn't chased Ikutsuki off for them. But Hypnos stayed his hand and lips, whispered in his ear, showed him what lay before him. Not the filthy dregs and cast-offs, but followers. Students. Those with potential as Ikutsuki saw, but to be used for a higher purpose than some raving dead man's failed dreams.
Through them, Takaya glimpsed the future. As the picture became clearer, Hypnos whispered more, offered a way through the coming night. Granted him a vision of what could be.
From then on, Takaya spent his days testing his loyal and faithful, speaking to them and guiding them. The more he spoke, the more they replied, and the more Hypnos promised in the days and nights that followed.
The night that the air broke by the bridge, Takaya and Jin felt what was happening. Not just them, too, but others who showed promise. Those who were awake during the Dark Hour and surviving its rigours, preparing for the road ahead.
And the night after the full moon, when the Dark Hour began, explosions of fire and light ran the circuit of the alleys, cutting off escape and pinning Takaya with his people. His people, as they had become, who looked to him to protect them and offer salvation.
He would not let them down.
"It seems our old friends have arrived," he noted to Jin. "I thought they'd be content to stay in their dorm, maybe try climbing the tower, but they've forced our hand."
"Anything I should be aware of? Any plans or traps, anything you want to see with Arisato?"
"No. They've come here of their own volition, so we should show them what a mistake that was."
"I'll deal with them," Jin promised, fervour in his eyes as he ran off. "I'll settle it for good this time."
"We cannot leave an enemy at our flank. They would strike when we can least afford it, and if not at us then at the Kirijo Group. Order and stability are needed most right now, so we must attend to Strega. I feel this is the optimal course of action, especially given that all of us have our reasons for wanting them removed. We must do this with speed and extreme prejudice."
Yukari checked behind her, leading Shirato to a parking lot away from the others and away from those people. Her ribs ached where Moros had sent her into a wall last time, but she pushed past the pain and ran on, dodging blasts and Shirato's profanity for another thirty seconds. Then she jumped behind a car and nocked an arrow.
The hook was baited. Now to make him bite.
Luckily, Shirato was furious and arrogant enough to come at her straight on, no subtlety or foresight. "Back for more, are you?" he called, looking ragged and worn thin.
"Speak for yourself; you're the one who ran away last time. How's your hand? Still sore? Mitsuru didn't leave a scar, did she?"
Shirato ground his teeth, clenching his right hand into a fist and glowing bright. "You'd be dead if it wasn't for her." Moros manifested, its mechanical arm turning and clicking menacingly, digital voice heavy.
Yukari took aim, the wind twisting around her. "Do your worst." She fired, but Moros got in the way, taking the hit and radiating its damning predictions. Yukari bolted to the side, trying to line up shots and stay away from the Persona.
Shirato hurled a grenade at her, frothing obscenities, and she called Isis to send it flying away. Moros kept closing in, however, and she darted in between cars to dodge the murderous machine. Moros was projecting Shirato's rage, and she knew that it would shred her if it ever got close enough.
She boosted herself on the winds and ran, firing shots that hit like hurricane blasts, but couldn't put the Persona down.
Another grenade, and then another ahead of her, this one spewing smoke. She ducked into it and dove to avoid the shrapnel behind her, calling on winds to blow the smoke away so she could see.
When she did and looked around where she'd landed, she realized she was trapped. Stuck between the edge of a fountain and a dumpster, Moros clunking up to her and Shirato close behind, she knew she couldn't run fast enough to escape. Moros's fist began to spin, gears whistling unpleasantly.
Shirato approached, tired and panting but with a manic grin splitting his face. He didn't send Moros after her, instead pulling a grenade out and tossing the explosive up and down. "Any last words, bitch?"
Yukari set her bow to the side and faced him, assessed where he was, and flicked her hand negligently. "That's funny. All you've done is scrounge for table scraps and run away, and now you're hiding behind Moros and all those innocent people you've indoctrinated. You couldn't win a straight fight if someone paid you, and now you're all alone because Sakaki doesn't need a dog to kick anymore. So I'll ask you that question: Do you have any last words, bitch?"
Shirato ground his teeth harder with every work, countenance purple and glowing with fury at every word, blue and white energy sputtering and hissing the air around him like a live wire. He raised the grenade to his teeth to pull the pin–
–and screamed as his right elbow disappeared in a shower of blood and bone, a rifle shot cracking through the Dark Hour. The grenade, pin in, dropped to the ground, and he stared at his useless arm. He glared at Yukari, crouched over and eyes filled with raving hatred. He reached for his Evoker with his left hand–
–and a second shot blew his knee out, sending him to the ground, howling in pain. He knelt on his good leg, barely able to stand, fighting to get to his feet. His teeth were bared, saliva and pain and profanities dripping from his mouth.
Moros turned, but disappeared from Shirato's fractured concentration. Strega's hacker was on his own.
Aigis jumped down from behind Yukari, walking easily through the gloom and hazy smoke, rifle held steady and sights on Shirato.
"We mixed our pitches this time," Yukari said grimly. "Figured you'd try and get ahead of us again, or that you'd have some dirty tricks up your sleeve. It's not so much fun when your prey fights back, is it?"
"You... you think it's over?" he rasped. "That it ends here?"
"Yes. You and Sakaki are through. You'll spend the rest of your life in prison, doped up on those suppressants so the only people you can hurt is yourselves. Unless you've got a spare leg in that case of yours, you're finished."
He laughed. "I get it. This is revenge isn't it? For that friend of yours we killed. I'd forgotten up to now; what was her name again? I didn't catch it while she was begging for her life, and I couldn't get it after because, what do you know, she was missing half her head."
"A puerile attempt at provocation," Aigis observed, "though I admit he forces me to inquire: Do we need him alive?"
"Some people won't survive in life," he insisted, a feral look coming to his eyes. "They're born to be prey. But you think that's bad? Want to hear what we've been up to since? It's not just men here, it's women and girls, too. Want to know what happened to the ones who didn't make the cut? Or what happened to the kids when they wouldn't shut up?"
Aigis took aim down her rifle, finger close to the trigger.
Yukari held a hand out, a grim smile on her face. "Words of a loser. You lost to Mitsuru, you lost here, and you're hoping we'll finish you off instead of taking you in. But that's not happening. We'll put you into a hole under the Kirijo building and throw the key away. You'll be a crippled whiner stuck in a four-foot cell for the rest of your life. Maybe we'll put the Kirijo logo on every wall and surface, just because I know you love them."
Shirato was silent except for his pained breathing, hatred and slow realization showing on his face.
"You're finished," Yukari declared. "And we're not going to kill you. You'll pay for your crimes, because that's how things work in our world."
The wild look came back to his eyes, but it was even more intense this time. His smile widened, drool escaping his lips as he chuckled, then laughed. "Over?" he demanded. "It's not over until we're dead, haven't you learned that yet?"
Yukari called the winds while Aigis glowed brightly.
"It's your fault. Right from the start," he raved. "We could have done it all, could have toppled this city and left it for the Kirijo to clean up, but then you had to get Takaya's attention, had to kill Chi-chan, had to get in THE WAY!"
He pulled a hand from his pocket, popped the top off a pill bottle and shot back whatever was in them.
Yukari gasped. "Wait, are those amplifiers?! You think you'll live through that?!"
Shirato swallowed them dry, chuckling cruelly. "Afraid to die? You should be, you little bitch, because I'll shred that machine and skin you alive." He began to glow, brighter and brighter, even from inside his wounds. His bleeding stopped, blood droplets hovered in mid-air and he stood to his full height.
"You're not the only ones who can get stronger," he told her, and the glowing turned incandescent, writhing in blue and white light, pure power arcing around him in a maelstrom.
Yukari backed up and Aigis stepped in front of her, but neither turned nor even thought of running.
The Dark Hour bent and warped around Shirato, howling from tempest winds and hissing as it shredded itself to accommodate his psyche. To manifest what was coming.
It wasn't Moros this time. Three shapes, slight and feminine, were outlined in the hazy dark, airy voices whipping by on the winds. Voices that declared life, sentence and means of execution with unmistakable relish, joyous in their purpose and the power they held over gods. Three instruments of exacting fate manifested – a magnifying glass, the thread of life, and the scissors to sever it – and the Dark Hour roiled as the figures started to materialize.
Yukari knew what these things were from her research on anything tied to Nyx, on anything Greek. Elegant beauties whose divine faces and figures were rivalled only by their incredible malice: Elekto, Megaera and Tisiphone. The Erinyes, or the Three Furies. Spirits bound to their purpose same as Thanatos and Hypnos were, who dictated the fate of a soul with gleeful hatred and unending self-loathing, despising that they could not die and be something else and tormenting the dead because they could. Bitter and savage entities of crippling spite, cruelest jealousy, and unceasing vengeance.
A more fitting ascension for Shirato, Yukari couldn't imagine. The three hissed and laughed in relish, eager to spill blood and end lives at their summoner's behest. A twisted Persona born of an artificial will, about to cross over into the Dark Hour.
But something was wrong. Where Ken and Mitsuru had pushed past their problems and brought their stronger selves to bear naturally, facing their fears and coming into their power with grace, Shirato was struggling. The winds around Erinyes were ragged, losing their speed, and the power around him was arcing wildly, lashing out or dissipating, flickering with a frantic pulse. He shook and quaked, and his body showed signs of incredible strain. His wounds bled fresh and the veins in his eyes had ruptured, giving him a hellish look. With a choked shriek he threw himself into this new Persona, trying to push it just the little bit more to make it manifest, but he failed. The winds of power eddied and dispersed, the form fading from sight and the light dying out, leaving him gasping for breath and growling in maddened rage. He stared at them, then fell to the ground, his leg giving out. He scrambled for his Evoker, but Yukari rushed up and kicked it aside, sending it skittering away. He clawed at her, and in a moment of remorseless anger, she blasted him with a concussion of air, sending him tumbling back on his bad leg. He was out of reach of his suitcase and any other weapons he might have, but still struggled up, pushing himself on his good arm and glaring at her.
"You done?" he rasped. "Why not finish me off? It's what you Kirijo bastards do, right?"
"You killed a friend of mine, someone who wasn't part of our fight," Yukari declared. "You could have been the better guy, could have spared an innocent. But you blew her head off instead. Why should I help you?"
He gurgled and hissed. One of his lungs had collapsed. Yukari considered how she'd finish him off, but then saw dark shapes approaching again, circling from behind Shirato, and stepped back.
"Mitsuru was right: you're not worth the effort. You're garbage, and I'm not getting my hands dirty dealing with you." She nodded toward the predators in the night. "They can do it."
Shirato struggled, turned and saw the Shadows, and scrambled in place. His leg and arm stopped him from going anywhere, he shouted at the Shadows, tried to move on his good leg but toppled over.
The Shadows approached, now sure of their prey. Yukari and Aigis backed away, letting the creatures come closer.
"Her name was Arima Haruna," Yukari said. "You can apologize to her before you go to Hell."
She turned and left, trained her ear to Shirato. He gasped and screamed as the Shadows pounced. Then the real shrieking began, rife with pain as he was devoured, bite by bite. The Shadows would savor him, she realized, either from hatred of him and what he'd done in the Dark Hour or simply because he had a Persona and they had the opportunity. They wouldn't make him Lost, because having a Persona made you predator or prey here. There was no escape from the monsters in the dark. While the screams rose to a crescendo, too agonized to start begging and going on even longer, she said a silent prayer for her friend, ending it with "rest peacefully now. I got him."
"It is over," Aigis noted. "Or will be when they are done with him. I do not have the subroutines required for holding grudges, but I feel this was an appropriate outcome where he is concerned."
"Couldn't agree more," Yukari commented.
A rumble ran through the ground then and kicked dust and dirt up, blowing past the pair. The Shadows gorging on what was left of Shirato perked up, then ceased their feast and fled into the gloom, leaving his mostly consumed carcass behind. An instant later, Yukari knew why: an up-swell of power ran over them, choking the Dark Hour in fear and power, bathing everything in white and red light.
This wasn't a failed attempt like what Shirato tried. This was the real thing, a new resolution of one's heart in the face of overwhelming adversity. But where Shirato had failed, this one succeeded. The overwhelming presence of the thing, the fear and power it cast even from this far away, made Yukari choke on her racing heart. A primordial fear for one's preserved existence, bred into her through thousands of generations of survivors who had fled and lived when others fought and died, demanded that she run. Her Persona, her mask and shield against the terrors and dangers of the Dark Hour, didn't protect her. Or – and this was a thought she could barely entertain – Isis was protecting her and this was what remained for her to feel.
The certain knowledge of a superior entity, one that would wipe her from existence if she dared face it.
Even Aigis shook and quaked as she stood next to her. "Is this...?"
"I think so. It's him."
"There can be no hesitation in this. Whatever we see there, we must prevail. If we do not finish them in one fight, we may never get the opportunity again, and they will have the chance to strike at us when we need it least. I do not think it needs to be said, but we cannot afford to falter or fail."
"Sorry for crashing your party," Minato said.
Sakaki smirked, at ease despite facing the rest of SEES, every one of which was bridling for his blood.
Behind him there were people, not in coffins but standing and waiting without any reaction to the Dark Hour. It was like they were Lost, but Fuuka observed that they hadn't been devoured by the Shadows. They were watching the tattooed teen for instruction or direction, either ignoring the noise of the fight between Shirato and the girls, or not even hearing it.
"Not at all," Sakaki replied. "It's always better to have company in circumstances like these. You've been well? I felt something spectacular happen by the bridge the other night, and it would be a shame if you were to fail this late in the game."
"You almost sound concerned."
"Why shouldn't I be? You've driven everything to this point. To lose your input now would be unfortunate."
Minato shook his head. He wasn't here to discuss Thanatos and Hypnos, the connection he knew he shared with Sakaki, or what their role in Nyx's plan had been all along. He was here for something else. "We're taking these people back."
"Even if they came to me of their own volition? Suppose their original circumstances were so terrible that you'd be consigning them to poverty or pain if you took them away. What would you do then?"
"There's no way," Akihiko spat, "that you have their best interests in mind. If being with you is better than where they were, then any form of help would be an improvement."
"That's cruel of you. But I suppose you'll see to their welfare? Fix what's broken about them and help them for free, simply because I brought them to your attention?"
"We'll help those we can, such that our resources can allow," Mitsuru asserted. "It's not perfect, but don't pretend that you are by contrast."
"You mistake me for Jin or Ikutsuki, wanting to destroy a higher authority and employing double standards to justify my hatred. That's not the case. I know you won't believe me, but I do want what's best for my people."
"You're right; I don't buy that for a second," Minato stated.
Mitsuru spoke. "You were working with Ikutsuki, weren't you? He was pulling your strings same as he was ours."
Sakaki frowned. "That's a crude way of putting it. Unlike you, we never believed in his goodwill or assistance. He's a self-serving parasite feeding on the efforts of anyone stronger than him. That means everyone in the world, considering how little he can do on his own."
"So you've seen him recently?" Minato asked.
"Very recently. He made some interesting offers after he left you, had some information Jin couldn't have gotten on his own, and offered a different perspective on things. For a while, that is. I told him to leave the other day; I couldn't stand the sermons and the pretension."
"That's funny," Junpei noted. "You'd think that would have been a match made in heaven."
Sakaki grabbed his gun, then popped the cylinder, emptied the rounds into his hands, snapped it shut and slipped the weapon back into his belt. Then he pulled a pill bottle from his pocket, rattled it suggestively. "Amplifiers. Ikutsuki made them, offered them as part of his services. They're a nice idea, and he probably wanted to get us hooked on them so we would go after you. Or maybe he wanted to continue the old man's experiments and make new Persona Users." Sakaki tossed the bottle to the ground and crushed it, and the drugs, under his boot. "Idiot. He thinks his science can circumvent the rules we live by, that he can get around his utter uselessness if he just schemes more. He thinks that just because his precious Kouetsu-sama found Nyx and tried to kill everyone, he can play god with us." Sakaki shrugged. "I honestly don't know how you put up with him for as long as you did. I wanted to kill him after just a few weeks."
"Where is he?" Mitsuru demanded.
"Tartarus. He's waiting for Nyx to come, probably hiding in a corner somewhere and raving at a wall. If it makes you feel any better, his plans have failed. He was relying on me to spike your wheel, probably attack your dorm or something. He wanted Jin to rouse the populace and undermine the Kirijo Group, to overthrow the government before the Fall comes. Actually, you should have heard some of the things he wanted to do, if only he had willing stooges to follow him." Sakaki chuckled. "We're none of those things, and he has nothing left to fall back on."
"You're not on his side?"
"Why would I be? He wants bodies in mass graves. I don't. I aspire for something a little better than that."
"Better," Minato hissed. "Like what?"
Sakaki spread his hands and the crowd behind him knelt in unison. "A proper answer to the problem Nyx presents." His voice echoed, and the Dark Hour began to drift and shift around them, responding to his will. Reacting to it, magnifying it. "Nyx will destroy the world and make the Dark Hour the new reality. But life survives no matter what circumstance it is exposed to. Some will make it, and they will go on to forge the future. And those of us who can survive in the Dark Hour can survive anything. The worst nightmares can be overcome, the survivors can be shepherded, and a new order will rise from the ashes."
The Dark Hour rang with his words, projecting them to the buildings despite him not shouting. The crowd behind him raised their hands in obeisance, voices murmuring in worship.
"You want to rule as a king here?" Minato deduced. "After Nyx destroys everything?"
"These are not my subjects," Sakaki noted. "They are my followers. They will aid the worthy and cleanse the chaff from this world. We will adapt to Nyx, we will persist when you have all been destroyed, and we will build a world for the loyal. For the strong."
Fuuka gasped. "These people... they have the potential for a Persona? They're active?"
Sakaki smiled. "Personas are a possibility for anyone, artificial or not. Some of my followers have the potential, and some will come into it. But that's not what you are feeling, Yamagishi. This is a power they offer to their leader, the one who will lead them through hell and into the future. Every person has this potential sleeping in them." Hypnos appeared, writhing and twisting on its artificial wings. "They are becoming aware of what they can do if they believe and follow. Same as your precious bonds and friends, Arisato. And what do you suppose happens when those sleepers awaken? What changes will they bring about to the world, and what will they elevate their leader to?"
Hypnos's outline dimmed as light shone from inside it, tumbling and twisting inside the flayed figure.
"A figure that could lead the faithful to salvation in the face of annihilation," Sakaki intoned, his tattoos glowing with the same light as his Persona. "A being made perfect and singular by the beliefs of the many. What might you call this thing?"
The Dark Hour roiled and crashed like waves in a storm, cracking the alien reality at the seams, fragmenting it and gleaming on the edges. The collective focus of Sakaki's followers bent the Dark Hour into one direction, to one destination, and Hypnos screamed and bowed, its body rippling, shifting.
Changing.
The force of Sakaki's will radiated outward, rich with the energies of the Dark Hour, becoming one with it. The collective voices rose higher, pushing with the force of an avalanche. SEES braced against the momentum, struggling against an emerging feeling of terror and mortality.
Hypnos twisted, light pushing from within until the Persona bled in rivulets, dripping red and casting a light in the same hue.
"They will follow me, and I will be what they need most," Sakaki vowed, his body blazing with the same power as Akihiko's and Ken's had.
Hypnos screamed, its wounds spurting until it was covered in its own blood. Its skeletal wings wrenched one way, then the other, cracking and breaking and tearing themselves free. Then they joined and grew into a T shape, then extended upward in a cruelly wrought cross, pitted with rust while blood dripped eternally from the spikes, bearing the Persona's weight even as they cut into its flesh. Hypnos itself, now covered in red, cracked audibly, breaking bones and ripping flesh to reform into something larger, and when the blood ran to the ground, it left behind flesh that was toughened by whips cuts – Minato instinctively knew they numbered 39 – and harder than armour. Across its chest were carved the jagged letters I, N, R, I, and its hands were secured to the cross with twisted ties of spiked wire. Upon its head was a crown of bent nails, sharp enough to cut and let blood flow, and its eyes were grown into the sockets, turned upward in a show of divine sacrifice for its people.
A figure of devotion and sacrifice, one awakened from its slavery and torpor to lead its people on Cataclysm's Eve at the behest of a madman. A new Persona, warped by the desires of the desperate whose faith made their delusions into an immutable reality.
A false Messiah who would smite the unbelievers and scatter their ashes to the winds.
Light and raw power radiated from the Persona, so overwhelming that the first instinct was to bow in the face of it or flee its gaze. To stand against it meant to face its wrath, for such would be brought upon those who threatened it and its people, absolute and unrelenting. There could be no victory against this being, no subversion or flight. Only submission, or death.
SEES trembled in the face of this enemy, but faced it. Not one of them even considered running.
Messiah gestured upward, its hands still bound. A great radiance brightened the sky like a new sun, growing brighter and whiter and bleaching out the moon. It twisted, coalesced, and raced down at them, a hammer of the divine to smite them for daring to stand in opposition. Speeding down, roaring like an avalanche and rich with righteous fury, about to blast the team from the mortal coil–
–when it slowed, turned, and hammered into the being of light that stood over them. The force of the blow was still enough to send them to their knees, those who weren't knocked from their feet, and it rang around them like being inside a struck cathedral bell, vibrating and rocking them and pushing them down.
Ken braced under the weight of it all, standing bent as Kala-Nemi absorbed the light and protected the others. The boy's knees shook under the strain, however, the flow of power like standing under a waterfall, and, suitably, his clothes were dripping with sweat. Kala-Nemi's gears spun faster and ran hotter, but then they began to smoke and grind, tripping and struggling to keep up with the impossible flow of energy. The Persona, even empowered by the will of its summoner, could only absorb so much energy before it overloaded, and Messiah was doing what even the strongest Shadows to date could not: overpower Kala-Nemi with that which made it strong.
"Stop, Amada!" Mitsuru ordered, struggling to rise. "Let it go!"
Ken ground his teeth, stared up at the light and knew his life was measured in seconds if he didn't move. His joints ached, felt like they wanted to separate and leave him crippled on the ground, his muscles stretched taut as piano wire, and the vibrations of the power he was facing rattled up and down his bones. He felt Kala-Nemi weakening, cracking, giving in despite his orders. If he stopped, the others would die, but if Kala-Nemi broke, he'd die first. Words drifted through his head just then, whispers that carried the weight of a command. Give up. Serve me. You'll live longer. Ken looked over and saw Sakaki's wide grin. The same one he wore when he gunned Shinjiro-senpai down, when he mocked Ken's resolve, when he sent SEES reeling and pulled off his plans with impunity. For all the damage he'd done and the people he'd hurt, he was smiling.
The death, the pain, was going to stop, right here and now. "These people," Ken grated out – even breathing hurt, "have family... friends... kids... waiting for them to come home... You're not getting in the way of that. And you're not hurting the others anymore."
Sakaki laughed, the sound carrying over the noise with ease.
"You're not!" Fists clenched so hard his nails bit into his hands, Ken threw himself into his Persona. It was like lifting a mountain, but he shot a hand upward, and Kala-Nemi redirected the excess power to the sky in a beam of blinding, churning light. Rather than bearing the brunt of the power, better to redirect it. Her gears shook and strained, but the weight lessened, slowly, enough that the others would be able to move.
It was barely sufficient, success held together by paperclips and string. But it was enough.
Until Sakaki clapped sarcastically, then snapped his fingers.
Messiah blazed white. The light shone brighter and roared down even harder. Ken braced, grabbing his mother's crucifix, praying to hold on just enough for the others to run or fight back.
"No." The voice was almost lost in all the noise, but they all felt it, felt its unwavering determination. A familiar power rose, blue light contesting with white. Minato stepped up next to Ken, then spread his arms. A glow blazed from within him, a pristine dawn that rivalled Messiah's, and six immaculate wings spread wide and encased Ken and the others. The light whirled around Helel's form, held in abeyance at the angel's command. Ken breathed hard and looked over. Minato was strained under the weight of his share of the light, but he allowed enough that Kala-Nemi could take what she could. "We'll do it together," he instructed. "Give the others a chance. You with me?"
The boy nodded. Everything hurt and he couldn't see straight for the sweat in his eyes, but he was in. "Until the end."
Mitsuru came up to them – able to stand, able to fight, concern in her eyes. "Will you...?"
"I need to," Minato replied, face pale, feeling the lingering pain from his fight with Ryoji. He was pushing it, and he hadn't tried anything more strenuous than just standing there. But giving up wasn't an option. "Amada's with me. We'll hold him off as long as we can, so it's up to you and the others to do this."
"I'll look after him, Mitsuru-senpai," Ken added.
Koromaru padded up next to them and growled, a growl that echoed threefold as darkness gathered around his shining fur. Akihiko cracked his neck with a rumble and boom from above, Junpei rolled his shoulder while the air around him wavered with heat, and Mitsuru's breath plumed in the sudden cold around her. "We'll take care of him. Don't you dare wind up in pieces again, understand? That's an order."
Minato nodded, wanting to use the brief moment to say something cool or impressive, but he was tripping between an "I love you" and a "be careful" when he was interrupted by Sakaki's mocking laughter. "Letting your seconds and your woman fight for you, Arisato?"
Minato turned, eyes hard and heart set. "They've beaten everything you've thrown at them, beaten everything you, Shirato and Yoshino ran away and hid from up to now. They've beaten me. They're more than enough to deal with you."
Sakaki smiled and Messiah blazed brighter. Neither side was going to give in.
"Go kick his ass," Minato instructed, holding his hand up and spreading his wings to protect them.
The team fought like the well-oiled machine they had become. Junpei sent a flurry of blades at Messiah and Akihiko laced them with lightning to explode on contact. Koro forged a darkness so strong it blotted out the light Messiah gave off, and Mitsuru and Fuuka scanned the Persona for weak spots and directed the team when the Kirijo heiress wasn't striking and then dodging out of reach. Messiah might be powerful, but it couldn't split its attention when the team struck in symphony.
The problem, they quickly realized, was that nothing was connecting. Akihiko and Junpei's strikes got to within a foot of Messiah before INRI burned bloody red and shattered the blades and rebuffed the lightning, stopping anything from even touching its skin. Koro's darkness could deflect Messiah's strikes, but couldn't get close to making a mark on it. And whenever Mitsuru cornered a weakness or lined up a strike, Messiah's defenses would push her back and the weakness would shift, and she was stuck looking for more. Even Fuuka's sensors struggled to keep up with Messiah, and she was frantically straining Lucia's abilities to give the others some kind of an edge.
Mitsuru's eyes narrowed. "Fuuka," she whispered. "Look. Between the third and fourth rib, is that a fluctuation I'm seeing?"
"Huh? I'm... wait, yes, I see it. It's there, but I don't know what it means."
"I think I do." She quickly directed Akihiko and Koro to keep attacking, shot a barrage of ice spikes at Messiah, and raced over to Junpei. She spoke quickly, outlining what she needed and how to make it, being as specific as possible. Normally chemical names and molecular bond structures would have been gibberish, but Trismegistus computed it all flawlessly, creating a blueprint in its summoner's mind.
"Can you do it?" Mitsuru asked.
Trismegistus signalled in the affirmative, seeming to relish the challenge. Junpei nodded. "We'll get it done."
Mitsuru nodded and bolted back into the fight, buying him whatever time he needed.
Junpei focused inward, bearing the fire and forge of his Persona as it took its blueprint and set it in three dimensions, calculating everything to the last piece and transforming concrete and air into what it needed. Base materials changed, the principles of alchemy bending mundane matter so efficiently, so calculated, that even oxygen could be made into gold if desired. Trismegistus reformed everything and built the weapon that had been asked for. Particle by particle, shard by sliver by angle and edge, it came together.
"LOOK OUT!"
Minato's shout came a second before the pain did, a horrendous rip and tearing that severed Junpei's insides. The barrier had given for a split second, right where Helel and Kala-Nemi met, and a brief shot of energy had broken through.
Small for Messiah, but plenty by any standard.
Junpei staggered, hand falling dumbly to hold his opened stomach and guts in place. The smell of cooked meat reached his nose, and all that red on the ground was his, dripping, leaking, pumping furiously. He felt numb, distant from the pain like it was someone else's, and Trismegistus wavered from his agony.
Only Junpei was past the point of pain. He grinned, saliva dripping out as he grit his teeth and looked at Sakaki with hate, with more hate than he'd even felt toward anyone ever before. "Won't work on me," he croaked out even as his body began to knit itself back together. "Your girl left me a little something. You're gonna have to do better than that. Unless, you know, you're dead!" The fire within burned hot, sending molten power through his veins and forging him anew. His stomach filled itself in, intestines tied back together, and all that was left was tattered muscle and skin in its place. Junpei's shirt and armour were torn, the ground was covered in his blood and shredded innards, but he stood and lived.
Trismegistus turned yellow hot in the task of creating Mitsuru's weapon. The ground in front of the Persona melted, concrete bubbling and hissing, and up emerged a sword shaped like a long spear blade, a short hilt in the place of the haft, gleaming silver along an edge that could cut photons in passing. The weapon hovered in front of its creator, awaiting a hand to bear it, unlike any weapon that had ever been made before. The true pride of a craftsman. And Trismegistus didn't stop there. Having felt the force of Messiah's light, borne the brunt of that attack, it knew how to protect the blade's bearer. With a new burst of light and heat, a shield appeared, a stud in the middle that warded off the light that Minato and Ken were fending off. The shield was a stop-gap measure, but it would buy the bearer time in the face of Messiah's worst.
"Hope this helps," Junpei told Mitsuru when she ran over.
"Excellent," she replied. "Can you fight?"
"Try and stop me."
Mitsuru smiled. Junpei was raring to go, and Akihiko already knew the plan. "I wouldn't dare. Go to work."
He grinned and rushed into the fight, firing blades and cutting vacuum blasts like he'd been born for war.
"Let's go," Mitsuru said, putting her heart and soul into her Persona, bonding with it like she'd never dared to before. Artemisia grabbed both blade and shield, facing their enemy. Her mistress knew battle, and the Persona was eager to bring victory to them both. Even so, it wouldn't be easy. Both knew where and how to strike, but also knew how small the target was, how slim the margin for success.
Neither cared.
Artemisia darted forward, exiting Ken and Minato's protective umbrella and bracing against the immediate blows of Messiah's will. Artemisia's armour grew hot while the shield smoked, giving her only a few seconds.
A flash of light rebounded and came at her back, enough to blast her from existence. Before Artemisia could respond, darkness gathered around her, enough to set the blast off and protect her, phantom growling rumbling the air with the last of Cerberus's power. Messiah stared at her and pointed, a colossal hammer falling at her from above.
This time, a shield made of blades intercepted the strike, ringing like a bell and dissipating. Junpei was getting exhausted, and she had no one else to bail her out.
But no one else was needed.
Artemisia had closed the distance, lined up her strike with every ounce of power Mitsuru had and all the accuracy Fuuka could provide, and stabbed at Messiah's right side.
The blade struggled to push forward. The titanic forces at play blew the air back in a supersonic collision. Artemisia's strike had slowed, deterred by Messiah's aura and defences. INRI burned and bled, turned the air red. Her shield warped and began to melt, and then her armour disintegrated, but she pushed with her last burst of strength and sank the blade into the right side of Messiah's chest.
Then, an instant before she would be obliterated, Artemisia vanished at Mitsuru's command.
And then, "Akihiko! Now!"
The boxer clenched his entire body, nerves firing double while lightning scored the ground around him, furious as being contained and built up. His vision was splotchy and it felt like time was speeding up and slowing down, his heart raced and dragged and even stopped for seconds at a time, but he kept going – everything, right down to his neural impulses, was going into this. Caesar's armour and sword were so bright, so rife with voltage, that they were breaking apart like static. Akihiko looked at Sakaki and muttered, "this one's for Shinji, you son of a bitch." He raised his hand and Caesar turned incandescent. The air detonated with the force of a hydrogen bomb, an entire storm breaking the sky in hal, and the brightest bolt of lightning to hit the earth flew down at its target.
Rather than strike Messiah or its cross, the lightning arced and slammed into Artemisia's blade, setting the whole thing white-hot with power. The weapon had been forged with silver and steel woven together, a better electrical conductor than could be made by man. It channeled the full fury of Caesar's blast straight past Messiah's defenses, and then there was the little addition Mitsuru had devised: through the core of the blade and gathered at the tip, there was a chamber filled with electro-reactive fluid that expanded geometrically when charged. Leaving nothing to chance, Mitsuru had devised a storm-powered armour-piercing bomb that had been set off with enough voltage to power the entire country.
Messiah recoiled, then its entire right side exploded with a blast that rocked the earth from its axis. The Persona's right side had been blown away, its face burnt and arms and legs barely hanging on by blackened flesh. It staggered from its cross, tried to stand or recover, but the damage was too great. It fell to its knees and looked up, remaining arm raised as if in supplication. It stopped like that, solidifying in place and cracking. Then it broke apart, dust and ashes carried off on the phantom wind until nothing remained.
A quiet came over the Dark Hour. The cultists stared at where their idol once stood, now looking around as if waking from a nightmare. The light faded from the sky, winking out and leaving the corrupted skyline behind. The overwhelming force of Messiah's will receded, gone with its short life.
Sakaki chuckled, then choked on his own blood. Staggering, he clutched at his tattoos, now running red and dripping, before he fell to the ground. His face had gone deathly gaunt, his eyes were sunken and white, and his flesh was an unhealthy pallor, shriveling and pulling tight moment by moment.
He'd put everything into his Persona, SEES realized, and he had nothing left when it failed.
Minato limped over, trembling from exertion, face grim. "Didn't go the way you thought it would, did it?"
Sakaki laughed, his voice a rattling, bloody rasp. "Better to have tried than to leave it how it was. If you'd stayed away, a few might have survived. But now Nyx will wipe everyone out. Even them"
"Life is for the living, not the fastest runners. People will fight for what they want, and when the time comes, they won't do it alone."
"They'll all die," Sakaki insisted. "Nyx will... she will..." And he spoke no more.
Minato stepped back from the corpse, looked upward to where the ever-present pulse originated, that approaching thing of dread that persisted even now. "No," he promised. "She won't."
