Chapter Forty Two: The Oneiros Gambit
Sojiro Sakura and Sae Niijima had been there from the moment it all started. It was fitting that they accompanied the team as far as they could, to the threshold of final preparations. For all the distance travelled to this point, neither of the two could expunge the inevitable worry. All eight of the Phantom Thieves had grown so much, yet they all retained the same youthful, untainted spirit. In a way, they looked no different from the day just before the late Masayoshi Shido's defeat.
"As you probably imagine, the others would want to be here to see you off too, but they're also rather hard at work." Sae spoke. "Please stay safe, all of you."
"We appreciate it, Sis." Makoto smiled. "There's no need to worry, though. We're hardly walking into any danger."
"Unless you count being bored to death." Futaba interjected with little enthusiasm.
"Come now, Futaba. I'm sure the Demon Artist does his best." Akira said. "The wait will pay off, I promise."
"Someone's in a good mood." Sojiro chuckled. "It sounds like you could do with some coffee to go. Then again, you might get jittery while posing."
"And a jittery Futaba is the last thing we want." Ryuji quipped.
"Whatever, guys. With this baby fully charged, I'm probably good for half a day… maybe." The navigator pulled out a handheld gaming device from her backpack.
"Always been a fan of preparation myself." Ann carried a handheld of her own.
"This'll be no picnic." Morgana remarked. "But it'll probably make it easier if we think of it as one."
"That's a very constructive way of seeing things, Mona!" Haru herself appeared to have a positive attitude.
"Yes, agreed." To Sojiro, Morgana's comment was nothing but an oddly elongated series of meows. Still, the feline struck him as infallibly reliable. On the many days Akira looked burdened by his probation, he always had the company of a black cat peeking out of his school bag. And suddenly, the young man no longer looked so alone. Sojiro Sakura, a dreamer turned cynic by the modern world, thought this a miracle in a world gone sour.
Though there was no fighting today, Morgana still looked like a fierce guardian angel to Akira. And something in Boss' gut told him 'the kid' needed one. Or seven.
"Do not forget." Yusuke interjected. "We'll be seeing a Master at work." He could barely contain the rapturous anticipation in his voice.
The banter continued just a little longer. Soon, Akira and Makoto rounded them up to be on their way, while the spirits were at the highest point. As usual, the former lead them into the bathroom door, doubling as a portal into the Velvet Room. Sojiro and Sae's Godspeed lingered in his head, twisting the knife a little more.
"We'll succeed, no matter what." Makoto said to him privately, as they left the world behind.
Akira could not bring himself to say anything in that moment. Only a gentle, affectionate squeeze on her hand before they crossed over into the gap that lay just before the blue door. Then, he walked a little further ahead, putting a little distance between his friends and he.
Suddenly, his heart skipped a beat on an aching lapse of doubt; a stumble that could unmake his plan in an instant. He knew that if Makoto saw his face then, she would see right through him. And his plan would be irreparably compromised. This was a risk he could not afford to take, so he pulled the trigger before he could relent a second further.
In this non-place, certain sounds and lights could easily be disguised beneath the surrounding chaos. A quiet summoning followed, and a whispered name. At most, his friends would catch a flicker of something that might look alive and sentient, perhaps a stray Shadow. But not a Persona - not the Sandman, quietly executing his favoured slumber spell upon Akira's unsuspecting friends. The wait for the Demon Artist to finish refining their Personas would probably have the team snoozing eventually. The first phase in Akira's plan all but guaranteed it.
The success of the ensuing steps would depend on his ability to lie and sneak out. There may yet be challenges ahead, but Akira was already struggling with the plan's greatest difficulty. His conscience was flogging him raw. Somehow, this deed tormented him even more than the very real possibility that he may not return.
Akira Kurusu had no choice but to swallow the pain. He could afford neither mistakes nor farewells. If all went well, they would never realise what he did until it was too late. The prospect of success never felt so bitter.
Neither Makoto, Morgana, nor the rest noticed a thing.
[ ]
The scene in the Velvet Room was just how they expected. All attendants were present, in varying degrees of discretion. Margaret and Percival stood in quiet solemnity, while Theodore looked a little awkward in the attempt. Lavenza could barely contain her own nerves. And Elizabeth, irreverent as usual, was the hardest one to read. Nameless and Belladonna were occupied performing the song that played beyond time. And the Demon Artist sat restless by his easel.
They could not possibly know of Akira's plan, but self-suggestion easily found an air of judgement about each of them, even Lavenza. If put together, they would undoubtedly make the universe's most unforgiving jury. Not only would they gauge his actions, but they would also gaze upon his soul. And one by one, the attendants would pronounce him guilty, or so he thought in that moment. Inner turmoil increased, but Akira fought to keep it from showing. He was not out of the woods yet.
After the day's greetings, Akira took the initiative for the second phase.
"Guys, sorry if this comes off a bit selfish but I want to be first." He put on the falsest mask he could – a calm, sufficiently carefree one to accompany his words. "With all that's been going on, I haven't felt the strength of my Personas that much. I could really use this." There was some truth to his words, all things considered. If he was to walk the dark path on his own, he could not afford to be ill-equipped.
"I don't see why not. You have been through plenty throughout this." Makoto agreed. "We'll wait over here."
"Whoever's going first, sit already. I've been waiting too long for this." The painter was ready and impatient.
"That settles it then." Akira smiled as he sat on the stool.
The team's lieutenant motioned towards the tables scattered around the stage. Their friends took seats, chatting carefree in the process. Makoto did not join them right away, instead walking over to her boyfriend and planting a quick kiss on his lips.
"You be a patient one now, Akira." Her smile was warm and sweet – a dagger in his heart. He felt the heat rising to his cheeks; and completely against his will, he felt flustered beyond control. Makoto looked endeared. That expression remained on her face even as she joined the others.
The second phase was successful. The third was the waiting game.
The Demon Artist set to work right away. He was no slower than on the previous session, applying strokes to the sinister figure of Arsene on his canvas within seconds. But the mysterious painter applied his magic through layers. It would take a while to bring out the strongest hues in one single Persona – and Akira happened to carry ten of them. By his own calculations, five or six could obtain the Demon Artist's graces before the Sandman's flickering Dormina reaped what it sowed.
In the meantime, Akira could only sit and think, much to his dismay.
He desperately tried outrunning the feelings of guilt that kept chasing him. He focused on whichever minutiae he happened to catch in his surroundings, while trying to avoid the pull of Makoto's presence in the corner of his eye. The lighting. The texture of each visible surface. Peaks and valleys in the song that sheltered them. The subtle gestures in the painter's hands and face. If he set his mind to it, Akira could indeed keep his mind occupied of an infinite number of little factors. But still, every now and then, he would unwillingly steal a glance at the young woman sitting a table with Haru and Morgana.
And sometimes, he caught her doing the same.
He has long lost count on how many times that has happened since they met.
And with that, his concentration became shaken. He now caught every single thing he did not want to see or hear. Despite the urgency at hand, his friends enjoyed themselves, bantering to keep boredom at bay. Their spirit during dark times was something he admired and loved about them back in the day, and little has changed now. For a moment, he visualised himself joining them after the Demon Artist was done with him. His plan would be permanently halted, and there would no longer be any guilt in his heart. There would only be tomorrow, and the Masquerade. And on this front, it would be them against the Crawling Chaos and his knight. They would win, and everything would be back to normal.
But no matter how desperately he wished to believe, he could not. In his mind and most haunted of memories, he saw a glimmer of what could be if they failed – if the aberration stemmed out of Akira's soul trumped the Phantom Thieves. The prospect felt like a death sentence, and a likely one at that. And so, Akira Kurusu was again convinced that if he did not go ahead with his plan, he would lose them. And Nyarlathotep would claim his triumph from their remains.
He could not let that happen.
His determination returned with a cold feeling in the pit of his stomach. He already felt intense regret over the plan, but he continued nonetheless.
[ ]
The first sign that his plan was working came from Yusuke. At first, the young artist would appear from behind the Demon Painter to examine his work. Akira could read a varied palette of emotions in Yusuke's face, ranging from admiration to stark bewilderment. But as time went by, these visits became less frequent. The conversation's volume was decreasing gradually with tired silence following one hour later. Akira dared a glace to his side and found Ann nodding off while everyone else was asleep, including Makoto.
He checked again, a few minutes later. Everyone slept, with blue sheets draped over their shoulders, courtesy of Lavenza. Second phase over, it was time to move on to phase three: the getaway.
For caution's sake, he waited a few more minutes. During that time, Akira stewed the lie in his thoughts. There was little need for refinement; something mundane would do the trick. To be exact, something Ryuji would say.
"Sir?" He asked.
"Don't 'Sir' me, boy. Making me feel old. What is it?" The artist discarded his brushes, pulling fresh, new ones out of thin air.
"I need to go to the restroom."
Of the reactions Akira expected, irritation felt the most likely. Yet the Demon Artist barely even hinted a look of bemusement beneath his shades before bursting into laughter. The volume of the artist's seemingly uncontrollable laughing fit threatened to compromise the plan. Akira's own surprise was not any help either.
"Ha, sorry about that." The painter was starting to catch his breath. "You know… I was getting a little freaked out that it took you guys so long to ask. You've been hours here, and even last time, nobody asked to go to the bathroom. Not even mini one over there." He said, nodding towards Futaba.
"Yeah." Akira let out a chuckle. "They really must have been holding it in a while, and I think we had coffee last time too."
"Tough. Anyway, yeah. Go. Don't take long, though. Would rather not wake sleeping beauties over there."
"I'll do my best." The smile on the young man's face vanished. "If it's not too much trouble, tell my friends… I'm sorry… if I do take long, that is."
The painter gave him a very deliberate look from over his shades.
"Alright."
With a rather awkward step, Akira made for the door out of the Velvet Room, ruefully marking the third phase a successful one. Despite himself, he paid one more look back at his friends. The promises he made to them all, in loving days past, would soon be broken.
He was nearly out of the door, and away from sight when a peculiar voice spoke in his ear.
"Naughty, naughty."
Akira turned his head and found Elizabeth leaning against the wall. He could swear she was not there a second ago. The attendant fixed him with a carefree, but acutely knowing look. The silence between them was accusing. Now, despite the success of the previous phases, his plan threatened to fall apart.
A gloved, shameless hand took hold of a strand on Akira's hair, sweeping to the side.
"Hmm, yes… from this angle. Add some headphones and take a few inches..." Elizabeth pulled her head back, squinting. "Oh yes, most fascinating! Had I some rose-tinted glasses and terminal cataracts… and the resemblance is uncannily mediocre!"
He could only blink in puzzled response.
"You do not look much like him… not at all. But what you're doing… like peas in a pot!"
"Do you mean… peas in a pod?" Akira said cautiously.
"The very thing he would say!" A sad smile crept into her usually jovial tone. "And just like him, about to set out on a scandalous private agenda! A harrowing undertaking only he can perform! And a girl's heart about to be broken…"
Suddenly, Akira could not say a thing.
"She will be hurt." Elizabeth spoke without humour. This he knew already, but to hear it actually said was a ram against his stomach.
His plan, the Masquerade. Everything, within and without the world of strife in the past month, ceased to matter. The suffering that dwelt in the cradle of fear and hate of the 'Joker' was light as air now; it mattered none next to the very real pain that Makoto will feel, when she wakes up and finds him gone. Those feelings will not only be her own. All of his friends will hurt. And he was responsible for it.
"… I know."
Elizabeth was quiet now. It has been barely more than a few days since Akira met her, but he sensed this was uncommon for her. He imagined that she had been attendant and guide to this person she spoke of, just like Lavenza had been for him.
"What did he do?" Akira asked.
"He chose to go." Elizabeth's answer was curt, and her wording left much in the dark.
"Did you know her?"
"Oh yes, I did!" Whimsy returned to her voice. "He spoke of her often. Stubborn girl, and a worrier, oh my! One couldn't judge from looking at her, and all that pink, but she was strong and never missed… or so she said!"
"I see…"
"Copious amounts of pink!"
Somehow, a wistful smile returned to his face. There was nobody in his life who quite matched the description. Still, he had an odd sensation of familiarity about the girl with the broken heart and the boy who left her behind. And so, a number of questions came into his head; mostly things he never thought to ask until this moment. But rather than asking what this boy did, or whether he succeeded, only one thing truly struck Akira's interest.
"And this girl… is she well? Did she go on to live happily?"
"Ever after? Oh, if only I knew. An attendant can only but guess at the tides in our guest's heart. And even so, much is a blissed mystery still. Do you attempt to guess whether your beloved will overcome the loss from you walking into your horrible, bone-chilling, teeth-shaking, rump roasting, bun toasting, thunder flying demise?"
"… It's no use asking, I suppose."
"You don't need me to tell you that, young man. All beings with a soul must live with their decisions. And I do mean all. I will not stop you, either. However, someone should see you on your way out."
"Thank you." Akira took the first step outside of the Velvet Room, but even as he walked into the expanse of the in-between, Elizabeth's parting words still reached him."
Do make it back, nonetheless. For her sake.
[ ]
Makoto's head hurt upon waking up, with the vibration of quiet violently turned into loudness. Before opening her eyes, she could already identify a cluster of sounds. Ryuji was yelling, as he was wont to do, but she could also hear a sting of bitter anger in his voice. Ann and Morgana tried calming him down, but they sounded just as displeased as he, if not actually furious.
"Mako-chan!" Haru exclaimed as the team's lieutenant shook off the drowse.
All of her friends turned to look at her. Then the scene became stark clear. Her friends were on one side, seemingly all sharing the same mood. And on the other side were the attendants, each under varying proportions of bewilderment and shame. Margaret and Percival were quiet, and Lavenza had evidently cried. The performing trio were doing nothing while the song's eternal echo carried on. And Elizabeth stood in the middle, surrounded by all, as the main recipient of Ryuji's fury.
One thing stood out, above all else. Akira was nowhere to be seen.
"What happened?" Her voice was a dry tone, never showing the fear rising within.
"He left." Ryuji said. "And they let him."
"No. I did!" The Demon Artist tried to grab everybody's attention, but to no avail. It had been Elizabeth who waited for the Phantom Thieves to wake up from Akira's gambit. And no sooner they did, she informed them of what happened, taking all the blame upon herself.
"Nobody is responsible for this, young man. None other than myself, of course. Please don't not unleash your wrath upon my siblings." Elizabeth spoke with a calm, conciliatory tone. It was only a step below her usual spirits, but all hostility thrown at her slid off like it was nothing. "Your friend made a decision, and I saw him on the way out."
"Why didn't you wake us up!?" Ann snapped.
"He probably wouldn't have wanted that." The attendant answered with a certain nonchalance. "And it likely would have been an unwise spending of time. I doubt you'd have changed his mind."
"God damn it!" Ryuji yelled, his voice breaking from the strain. "This is bullshit!"
A storm of voices broke out among the Phantom Thieves, drowning out all chances for peace. Though she stayed quiet, Makoto could not even hear herself think. But even if she could, nothing came to her head.
"Wait, guys! Wait! Listen!" Morgana called as he leapt, pawing at the air to be heard. "Were we all asleep? All but him?"
Everyone got quiet instantly. Gazes were exchanged. Realisation came over the Phantom Thieves.
"Would be kinda weird if we all got bored to sleep at the same time, maybe?" Futaba suggested.
"I don't think we knocked out in one go. I could hear Yusuke snore for a bit there." Ryuji said.
"Do I snore?" Yusuke looked slightly embarrassed.
"Like a baby." Futaba answered in her usual manner.
"I could swear you were all asleep, though." Ann said. "I thought of shaking Ryuji, but maybe I fell asleep before I could actually get up."
"I find that credible." Haru spoke. "My body felt suddenly very light."
"Same with me." Morgana agreed. "But if we all fell asleep near the same time frame, and Akira left after that, don't you think he could have planned this?"
A few seconds followed in quiet reasoning.
"But why?" Makoto spoke finally.
"All things considered, it sounds plausible." Yusuke reflected.
"And he did text us all to suggest this session." Haru followed in agreement. "Makoto's right, though. Even if we're on the right track, it still leaves out his motives."
In the ensuing moments, the Phantom Thieves dissected the situation, linking Akira's recent actions and behaviour to the present moment. They discarded the possibilities of self-serving betrayal immediately. Instead, they approached through a path they were already familiar with.
"Damn that guy. He's throwing himself into the lion's maw again, isn't he?" Ryuji showed himself calmer, though just as distressed as moments ago.
"He keeps doing these things on his own… doesn't he trust us to help?" Futaba's voice was full of hurt.
"I don't think that's it, necessarily. At least not only that." Makoto suggested. "Let's go back a bit. He's told us that he can see and feel Nyarlathotep's presence into this world. He alone can see it, because that world, and that Joker were made from his psyche."
"Do you think he did this to face them on his own?" Yusuke wondered.
"Stupid if that's the case." Ann said. "We have the tools to beat them now. We've tested it! Even if he pulled this crazy plan to sneak off on his own, we are stronger than we've ever been. And the Masquerade's only gonna help us even more."
"For a moment, I thought he may harbour a vendetta against Nyarlathotep. But that sounds so unlike Akira." Morgana went on. "Even against Shido, he kept this cool."
"I think it's something else. Nyarlathotep took advantage of Akira from the beginning. It's a link of abuse, but a link nonetheless." Makoto approached the subject carefully. Even though she tried to maintain herself calm, her anger was evident. "It seems like symbiosis of sorts. And I'm starting to suspect that Akira learned something through this connection, something he couldn't tell us."
"What could that be?" Ann asked, worried.
"I don't know. But I intend to find out." Makoto's voice harboured no weakness.
"I like the sound of that." Ryuji said. "But like, where are we gonna look? We don't have a clue!"
"Actually. I have a hunch on that." Morgana proposed. "There's no probably no other way he could have gone but Nyarlathotep's world. But - and again, this is just a hunch - I don't think he's going after Nyarlathotep himself. In that world, there are only two places that remain a constant. Nyarlathotep's fortress, and a second place."
"Yeah, a cave-like thing, right?" Ryuji lit up at Morgana's line of thought.
"Precisely. We never did explore that place, but Akira expressed some interest about it. There must be a reason for it."
"Then that's where I'm going." The team's lieutenant declared, with a tone that closely resembled her voice on the day of her awakening to her true self.
"You mean, 'we', right?" Futaba turned rapidly in the lieutenant's direction. A foreboding air set upon the group, as they already anticipated the Queen's response.
"No."
"The hell you mean!?" Ryuji was the first and the loudest to protest.
"Please, guys. Hear me out." Makoto insisted as calmly as she could. "I'm not sure what lies ahead, what resistance could await wherever Akira went. One thing is certain, we lack the connection he has, the lay of the land, if you will. If so, we cannot afford to be out there for long."
"But you can?" Yusuke asked, not without a little sourness.
"Even now Akira could summon Arsene. I'm a Wild Card now too. Then, I should also be able to summon Johanna. And she's fast."
"Fast enough to catch up with him with all the advantage he has? Not bad." Ann started to warm up to the idea. "Are you sure you don't just want him to ride with you?"
"That must be it." Haru added.
"I've no reason to believe otherwise." Yusuke followed.
"For shame, Queen." Morgana punctuated. "For shame."
Even now, Makoto could not resist feeling flustered. It was not merely her friends' teasing, but how their spirits were saved from the plunge. Hard decisions were ever in their path, but it was the way of the Phantom Thieves to move forward and roll with the coming onslaught. Never staying down long.
"I still don't feel too hot about this. But it sounds like the thing to do." Ryuji said. "Besides you got a bunch of Personas. That should help, I guess."
"Speaking of…" Percival approached. "If you mean to undertake this on your own, the least we could do is provide our services. There is no time for our Artist to help you with his craft, but there is another option, one available to they who brandish the power of the Wild Card."
"It's the least we could do." Margaret broke her silence.
"The art of fusion." Lavenza walked forward, wiping her tears for good.
"Something eventful will probably come out of it, if all of us refine the fusion." Elizabeth mused out loud. "Something frightening perhaps, or inspiring. Definitely powerful."
"In the meantime, we should continue." The Demon Artist joined. "Just because I screwed up earlier doesn't mean I can't do some good now. And I don't think this girl will do all the fighting alone when she gets your boy back."
With that said, Futaba was the first to sit on the stool, jumping onto the seat and nearly falling off in the process. The Demon Artist resumed his work immediately. And for the time ahead, he challenged himself like never before, in speed and detail. Whether their leader intended it or not, the proposed plan carried on. Whichever way the wind turned, the Phantom Thieves would be ready. As for the team's interim leader, Makoto was about to learn the true potential of the Wild Card. Twelve Personas she acquired throughout the journey – when nurtured by the strength of her Confidants – became six.
Rhea. Morrigan. Catrina. Gozu-Tennoh. Anansi. The Twin Dukes.
And helming Queen's arsenal, her trusted Anat – transformed anew into Johanna, shining with vibrant potential to become something else.
[ ]
The way from the blue door to his dark destination would have ordinarily been impossible to walk. But through the darkness of the gulf between the Velvet Room and Nyarlathotep's world, Akira Kurusu found unlikely guidance in the Crawling Chaos' bond to his being. By the time he reached the world of turmoil, his feelings of repentance were dulled into acceptance. Thus he travelled unhallowed soil towards the rocky gates in the distance, undeterred by the mayhem around him, or by abandoning his friends without even a farewell.
He has never been to that place, but it was not foreign to him at all.
This was where it all started. The 'Joker's' cradle. A world begotten on one night over a year, when Kawasaki went dark.
There was yet a nagging echo in his head. Elizabeth's words binding him to a desire he wished fulfilled, despite the colossal mission ahead. In face of extreme unlikeliness, he wished – more than anything in the world – to see his friends again. To see Makoto again.
Akira walked into the dark.
