Chapter 50. Finale: The Feast of Demons

In the all-encompassing darkness that has become Nyarlathotep's world, two lights shone with diabolical vigour. Satanael sore high, relentlessly firing at the near-omnipresent Crawling Chaos. Below, where the Phantom Thieves resisted against absolute defeat, a new incarnation was stepping forth into existence. Anthropomorphic - half material, half ethereal. The Persona's body was coated deep ebony, with accents in silver and gold, and broken chains rattling at her heels like furious serpents.

Much like the Demon Lord Satanael, Lilith carried an ancient, devilish air about her, yet she boasted a peculiar, almost divine flourish. A remnant of her once-hallowed nature, be it as Adam's lost spouse, or God's estranged half. Through fall or exile, the Mother of all Demons rose as a commander of rebellion. And now she stepped forth, into a place that should have never been - into a deeper horror than the very bowels of Hell. The slow, waking steps broke into a run.

The gloom around the Phantom Thieves suddenly felt thinner. Within seconds, the suffocating miasma of evil seemed to recede, to pull back into the centre of itself. It was as if Satanael and Lilith's very presence was making the world shudder.

"That's... incredible..." Mona spoke, uncaring of the oppressive intent that continued to wear them down.

"A bike, a robot, and now... I don't even know what to say!" Skull marvelled at the uncanny progression of the lieutenant's Personas.

"One thing's for sure..." Panther felt something surge within her, compelling the young woman to stand back up. "We got a fighting chance!"

"And we won't let it go to waste." Fox slowly overcame the enemy's debilitating intent.

"Remember everyone, Joker and Queen are not the only ones still in the fight." Noir stood up; she felt weakened but resolute.

"Alright." Oracle got one final reading from what little energy was left to Prometheus. "If all that's around us is Nyarny, that everything is a target."

"That works for me." Through strain and effort, Skull was back on his feet. There was too little within to summon his Persona for a blaze of glory. But the club in his hand still itched for retribution. Returning to the craft as a Phantom Thief was no different to running again. It came natural, but it was not without its difficulties. In the end, it all boiled down to simply catching his breath.

The rest managed to get back up on their feet, while the team's leader were at the vanguard, giving their all.

Queen's final Persona joined the fray with a vengeance, immediately striking against Nyarlathotep's core with her chains. From a great distance, the first impact was a cruel assault to the senses, as were the second and the third. The Phantom Thieves could only surmise what kind of strength Lilith wielded, but the Crawling Chaos experienced it in the flesh, and thus he knew: One Demon might delay his fatal gambit, but the combined power of two would surely compromise it.

He could not let them live, after unmaking his plan. It was no pragmatic consideration that they may again stand in his way upon his return. But it was not pure spite, either. Wherever he may choose to resurface, Persona users will always gravitate towards his manifesting. But they - the Phantom Thieves were a unique sort. Like himself, they championed and thrived on chaos. But at the same time, their survival was a testament to Philemon's faith in human kind. Two irreconcilable paradigms coexisting in harmony. Satanael's return and Lilith's rise were an incontestable truth to the matter.

The Phantom Thieves, by themselves, were an ultimate contradiction - one he could not even stomach. No matter how, he had to snuff them out. Erase and consume them within this dying world. One final breath would do the trick, a deathly exhalation containing the purest evil and madness that lay in the human soul, expelled directly upon the Demons. Without further aces up their sleeve, the rogues' defeat would follow on its own.

This was his final design as Master of this short-lived domain. He siphoned all of his might into one final onslaught. Meanwhile, the Crawling Chaos withstood the Demons' relentless offence. Every single blow could potentially fell the Dark Lord. What had started as a war of attrition has become a battle of wills - one he knew he could yet lose.

Joker and Queen's attention was solely on the adversary above. But their comrades noticed the change immediately. The world itself began to shift as soon as Satanael and Lilith took the stage, but the process took a sharp turn, as the image of their tormentor appeared to grow larger. But as the black matter around them retreated back towards itself, they realised the world was actually becoming smaller. Every movement revealed a peek of what lay beneath the shadow; a raging vortex of incomprehensible sights, Nyarlathotep's very lifeblood.

But the sights that once haunted them now compelled them to act.

"He's up to something, yet again..." Mona hissed.

"It is no surprise." Fox grabbed the hilt of his sword, eyes lingering on the edges of Nyarlathotep's self. "Reeks of desperation."

"We won't let it." Noir spoke ominously. Afterwards, she spoke no more. She let her trusty ax do the talking.

The rest followed her example, unflinching, even as Nyarlathotep's body fought back, as if possessed by his own subconscious want.

"They sure do me proud." Joker remarked, as the very flutter of Satanael's wings shook him inside.

"Even now, they refuse to lag behind." Queen nodded, her sight clouded by the sweat pouring from her brow. "Let's follow their example!"

With that, Satanael and Lilith picked up the pace, seeking the coup de grace.

Behind all eight, in the distance, Susumu Kamiyama limped forward. It took him a long time to penetrate through the foul blackness and eventually find Akira and his friends, but he made it at last. His Persona started to wane, as Nyarlathotep took full ownership of all that has ever been himself. But something of the old man still remained within the stone body of the fallen king. With or without this morsel of power, Kamiyama vowed to see it through to the end.

And the end, was indeed coming.

[ ]

The Masquerade had come to an end. The attendees had mostly all gone home. And where there had been music and cheers, was now the discreet arrangement of the stage workers and their often thankless craft. There were some stragglers, including the people closest to the event's organisation.

Sojiro Sakura looked at his phone for the sixth time within the span of five minutes. His perspective into social media was still that of an outsider. Even so, he could see it clear as day: the impromptu Calling Card gambit was paying off. The Masquerade was still being viewed worldwide, and even reprised through small, improvised tributes around the globe. Virtually everyone was talking about the Phantom Thieves.

One small test had revealed the influence of cognition on their power. The Masquerade seized on that principle to aid on their battle against Nyarlathotep. And this latest surge would surely have a formidable effect. It was a particular kind of logic, one he could not prove himself, but knew to be true. The man clung to this ethereal rationale to keep his nerves in check. He had nothing else but blind, desperate faith - as their one contact with the Phantom Thieves has fallen unconscious.

First came the butterfly, blue and shimmering, out of thin air. Shortly after, Akira's friend from juvie came in backstage, carrying Lavenza. Yasunori Kujo was on the verge of a meltdown. A nurse-in-training had deemed her condition a nutritional deficiency, and all they could recommend was a rest. But in between ramblings, Yasunori mentioned that he too had seen the same butterfly. As had Sae Niijima, and everyone who was close to the Phantom Thieves.

Clearly, something has occurred. Whether good or bad, nobody could say. Boss interpreted the apparent normalcy of their surroundings as a good sign. But in that moment, the fate of the world did not matter to him. He cared about only one thing.

Are the kids alright?

Sae was of the same mind. Her eyes shifted between slumbering Lavenza and the screen on her phone. She tried keeping herself occupied to stave off the growing anxiety. Usually, this Niijima trait proved useful, but she barely could find anything to make sense of the situation. There were no records of phenomenons related to what they saw, not even as tabloid murmurs. The most pertinent search result was a book of poems, titled the Blue Butterfly, by an author named Ulala.

Yet she knew, that nothing on the web could explain this fleeting sight, or the true nature to this conflict. Perhaps even the late Wakaba Iishiki would be out of her depth. There was nothing quantifiable left, only the persistent sensation that something was still occurring. It was as if Sae could hear something alien and distant, lying beneath the silence of the night.

[ ]

No sound reached Lavenza's ears. But it was not all silence as she slept in the depths of herself. Like a lone trail in the forest, there was an unassuming little thing that compelled her to follow. It was barely audible, yet somehow familiar. A shy whisper, edging closer to a word. It led her away from the improvised bed under her body, past the streets of Tokyo and beyond the city's skyline. Before long, the comprehensible vistas on Earth and the known universe gave way to things beyond human ken, transcending time and space.

In the dreaming, the girl in blue saw a limitless expanse of darkness, an abyss without size or laws. It was different from the complete absence of light. Somehow, it thought and lived, and wanted. To guess at its desire was the same as attempting to make out its true form : an all-consuming horror.

But somewhere in the middle of the living abyss, two flames burned bright. Pathetically small in comparison, though they refused to go out and be consumed. One she recognised from afar - she had helped it come into being, years ago.

An ember kindled by love into burning forever.

The other flame was new, but no different.

Soon, incorporeal Lavenza realised this was no dream, but the very battlefield on which the fate of humanity would be decided. And the subsequent appearance of her siblings in the hollowed night sky revealed their purpose. This was not a dream, but a summons.

The voice became clearer and louder in the ears of the Velvet Room Attendants, brought forth by their Master himself.

"Guide them.. guide them all." Igor spoke the order. The Heir of the Velvet Room struggled, from wherever his soul was kept.

"Master!?" Lavenza uttered without a voice. In her immediate memory, his lone catatonic figure haunted her. By instinct, she wished to hold on to the sound, for fear she would lose him forever. "Master, where are you?"

Guide them all... a gate... to his banishment once again...

Suddenly, in the fathomless black, a butterfly fluttered its wings into existence. Then another, and another. They were birthed into this world faster than the eye could register, until a starlit vault shone upon Nyarlathotep and his world.

Countless stars. Countless butterflies. Countless souls, manifested into a perennial unknown, from one night of devious inspiration.

The Masquerade's encore has truly begun.

[ ]

The final battle continued, racing furiously towards its denouement. Any instant could potentially mean an abrupt end, both for the Phantom Thieves and the Crawling Chaos. The former were too enraptured in the confrontation to notice the spectacle above their heads. Their every movement, their every heartbeat was devoted to the fight. As the two Demons continued their fierce aerial duel with Nyarlathotep, the lights began to descend.

"Something's happening!" Mona exclaimed, almost breathless as he wielded a scimitar too large for his body.

"Well no shit, you little...!" Skull ricocheted as he often did. The fringes of the adversary's body.

"That's not what I mean!" The feline yelled out. "It's... I don't know how to put it."

"Let us hope it won't make our work harder." Fox pushed himself further, cutting away at whatever form the enemy took.

"Oracle! Can you sense anything?" Panther interjected.

"Don't know! Prometheus is all out of juice!" The Navigator ran around the battlefield, keeping cautious distance while pelting the enemy with whatever sturdy expendables she could bring out.

But even if she could again summon her Persona, there would be little to say. What Morgana sensed, only he could feel, being born in the arcane corners of the Velvet Room. It was an atmosphere akin to nostalgia, but not quite just that. Full comprehension eluded him. However, Nyarlathotep identified it immediately, as the lights hung closer to the outer reaches of himself. He knew, if he narrowed his sight ever so slightly, he might even catch a glance of certain infamous souls - the ones who defeated him years ago.

The very thought compelled him to hasten his final move. Against all expectations, the divide between worlds has now been breached. It was now or never.

The Crawling Chaos practically maimed himself in the process of focusing the darkest of human nature in one breath. An unhallowed cloud that would ravage flesh and soul like dust in the wind. Even his own alien physicality might succumb to the release. But as long as darkness dwelt in the heart of man, the concept of him would inevitably manifest again. By simple nature, his return was assured.

Slowly, he opened his mouth.

"Joker...!" Queen was the first to notice the outline of the gargantuan maw as it grew wider.

"That looks like bad news." The team's Leader was able to peer into what lay behind the Dark Lord's jaws. "It's definitely bad news."

Only seconds after, a breath of fathomless evil came into first contact with the air lingering on Nyarlathotep's surface. Despite a great distance, Satanael and Lilith already felt its harrowing effect, and it would only become worse should it reach them. The rest of his body squirmed, debilitated and ailing. But the dark cloud grew steady and closer.

"That's his swan song, I see." Joker gritted his teeth.

"Akira, I have a feeling that will kill us, as soon as it touches us, or our Personas." Queen turned to look at her other half. She might have subconsciously sought reassurance in his expressions or body language. Perhaps an answer to a question she was yet to ask. But Makoto already knew what he would choose to do. She barely needed to search her own soul for another option. "We'll shield our friends."

"And blow that cloud into nothing." Like his partner, he stood his ground. With a hand gesture, Joker had Satanael face the coming evil head on.

And so, the figure of the Demon Lord flew into position. Satanael eclipsed the trajectory between Nyarlathotep and the Phantom Thieves. The newly conjured Lilith took her place at his side. The two Demons aimed, and stood by in wait for the command.

"SATANAEL!"

"LILITH"

"FIRE!" Joker and Queen called out in unison. A perfect storm was cast upwards, and it began with a deafening crackle of hellish thunder. And where once had been darkness, there was now light. The incessant discharge clashed directly against Nyarlathotep's foul scourge, but neither front relented.

The black cloud broke apart in places, seeping through the line of fire. But even past the boundary, the air around the Demons burned hot, as if Satanael and Lilith had somehow brought all of Hell to join the fight. Their combined power was proving too much for the enemy's intent; however, just enough of the cloud reached the Phantom Thieves to make their doom a gradual one. The effect was immediate.

The darkness that shrouded them was light as air. But rather than overwhelm them like an avalanche, Nyarlathotep's final breath would kill them from within. Each of their hearts was assaulted by the perennial chronicle of evil that plagues human existence. Countless histories of evils known and unsung - unimaginable and loathsome all. Each despicable deed shifted and adapted to their fears, soon turning their minds into a wasteland of heartbreak and ruin. Through Nyarlathotep's design, each of the Phantom Thieves was forced to live a version of what Akira had been put through. And only death could follow.

But neither of them succumbed. Each and every single one fought through the onslaught. Though their thoughts were forcefully shaped into a cacophony of despair, a shared emotional response kept them standing. Rebellion, to a fundamental, even existential degree. Nyarlathotep's tactic relied on isolating them all within a personal Hell, but the fact remained. They were not alone, and never again would be.

"Akira! P...p...ush... harder!" Skull roared through his pain.

"Don't give in! Neither of you!" Panther echoed Ryuji's spirit.

With or without words, the rest of their comrades demonstrated their resistance in face of despair.

Thus, even as Joker and Queen felt their souls being poisoned, they heeded their friends' command, with a vengeance. He held out his hand, and she took it in full commitment. Through a bond that endured through it all, Satanael and Lilith delivered their coup the grace, a barrage of light and dark that overwhelmed the cloud...

... and Nyarlathotep himself.

All felt silent, and the manifold twisted tragedies within the Phantom Thieves' hearts were snuffed out. The Crawling Chaos hovered in the distance as a ravaged outline; motionless and broken, but alive still. Having lost dominion over the remainders of this world, the abyssal vault was no longer his to command. And now the Phantom Thieves were finally able to see the lights that slowly came down upon them.

"Are they... butterflies?" Noir removed her mask as if to get a better view.

"Yeah, lots of them!" Oracle said.

"Unbelievable." Fox was almost without breath. This was more than a remarkable sight in itself, but seemingly an auspicious omen.

"So that's what I sensed!" Mona spoke with a noticeable cheer. "I know what those are. It's just like that time, with Yaldy, remember?"

"Please tell me it's what I think it is." Panther almost teared up at the hopeful prospect.

"It's everyone." Joker said.

"All of our fans, I bet." Skull cackled.

"And then some." Queen could hardly these butterflies were merely the presence of all who attended the Masquerade on the other side.

One butterfly reached them before the rest. It gleamed with particular vigour, like a torch in the dark. The Thieves' leader recognised it almost immediately, by the warmth it radiated.

"Lavenza? Is that you?"

"There is little time." Her voice fell distant on their ears, but the urgency was evident. "You have vanquished our Master's nemesis. But in doing so, this world will soon cease to be. And his defeat will only guarantee his return."

"He can come back!?" Panther exclaimed in disbelief.

"Even after we've messed him up like that... that's a load of bull!" Skull protested.

"Listen. The solution lies elsewhere." Lavenza said. "Nyarlathotep cannot be destroyed. His ultimate defeat must be accomplished in the same manner as back then."

"I see." Queen meditated, remembering the story told by the original inhabitants of the Velvet Room. "It is not enough to defeat him. He is not a God, but a concept with a consciousness of its own. As long as there is chaos, he'll just come back. Then..."

"We must exile him." Joker finished the thought.

"Is that something we can do?" Mona questioned. He did not need to acknowledge the fact of their current state. It was by sheer grit that the Phantom Thieves continued to resist. But only two of them were still able to summon their Personas. And even then, something as final as banishment sounded a tall order.

"That is the reason of our being here." Lavenza spoke. "Behold: these are expressions of the souls you have touched. Myriads of them, all summoned through my Master's work and your own. The faith, and the rebellion you have inspired, it leads to one united conviction among them all. Chaos belongs to you."

"Chaos belongs to us..." Noir savoured Lavenza's words. "That sounds like the theft of the century."

"It seems we have indeed stolen a treasure, without realising it." Fox mused.

"So, if we have stolen that creep's turf, that means we can kick him out! Adios! Boomer begone!" Skull grinned.

"By our Master Igor's guidance, we all shall provide the gate. But the command itself lies in you. Once it is done, my siblings and I will carry you back home."

At once, all eight turned their gaze towards Nyarlathotep's ravaged outline. Its mangled body still made for an imposing image. Despite the ebb and flow to this otherworldly saga, his power was more than formidable. To conceive a return was a frightful prospect. And they would never allow it to occur.

"So." Joker turned to his partner. "Shall we?"

"You needn't ask, Joker." An old shine of enthusiasm graced Queen's face. "Once more, with feeling."

"Satanael!"

"Lilith!"

The Demons reappeared in full, infernal splendour. They flew into position, much like before, with a new, inexorable intent. The monarchs condemned were now long past the rage of the battle, and the will to survive. Only one thing was left to carry out.

Judgement.

Satanael and Lilith engulfed the gargantuan remains of Nyarlathotep in a white blaze. He by the cannon on his arms; she by the chains on her arms, the pair subdued the Dark Lord as the constellation of souls in the firmament shone brighter. As above so below, the world that had been so dark was now dominated by light. The dying world of Nyarlathotep, snatched away from its Master, lay in wait for the final command.

"What you have done... What you almost accomplished upon the ashes of our husks and our world will never be forgiven, or forgotten." Joker declared with staggering force.

"Let this outcome be a reminder for all time. The Shadows within man's heart shall never be an instrument for your vanity. For your hubris, we punish you."

"We despoil you."

"We pillage you."

The energy accumulated between Satanael and Lilith was funnelled into Nyarlathotep's still living remains. Like a gravitational pull, it claimed the adversary whole, and reassembled him into one writhing, shapeless form. Behind this mass of darkness, the ever-changing constellation of souls awaited.

"NOW, BEGONE!"

The verdict was final, with one burst to seal the fate of the Crawling Chaos. Satanael's Sinful Shell, and Lilith's Divine Judgement. It sufficed to cast Nyarlathotep beyond the domains of what used to be his world, past the infinite reaches of the observable, and into the absolute unknown.

"We did it... Akira... we..." Queen muttered. Exhaustion and disbelief made her voice weak.

"Makoto..." Joker began, but his consciousness faded suddenly. Hers followed shortly after.

[ ]

Nyarlathotep's conscience was now beyond language or rational thought, as he was cast in exile. At the core of his disembodied self, a shriek of hatred and vengeance echoed soundlessly through all of creation. But this immortal animosity would remain estranged from his means. Each soul in the firmament stripped him further of his own dominion by imbuing the Phantom Thieves with their faith. However, the souls gathered were not all from the same place and the same time.

The Masquerade was over. But in the hearts and minds of many, the moment carried on, like a song coiling in on itself ad infinitum. The dissonance, shattering and reassembling of time became an intolerable burden for the Dark Lord through its sheer chaos, further adding to the punishment. Alas, this had a parallel, unexpected consequence elsewhere, in a place stranded between mind and matter, between nature and ruin.

Something in the metaphysical fabric of existence broke loose. And in its place, a complete opposite filled the hollow. By the Phantom Thieves' influence, a secret drive towards death clashed with an unbridled lust for life and the chaos of its potential. A new bulwark stood in-between two forces. Death, the eternal companion to human kind would never again meet colossal Erebus, a construct of malice and sorrow.

The Fall, a doom that threatened humanity years ago, becomes precluded by intercession of a new agent - by Chaos itself. And so, a Great Seal came undone. A soul that had died, now lived.

It began so, his lone journey through eternal, cosmic night.

The first, budding thought that bubbled up in his reawakened mind was a sense of closeness, of affection without a face or a name. It then transformed, gradually into longing for those he left behind. The source of these feelings eluded him throughout the road, but one sight in the distance kept despair at bay. A blue door, through which he had once walked before. Vague images began to take shape at the threshold, language and memories. He walked in.

Even before recognising his own physicality, he identified the interior of this blue space. Everything was different from how he remembered it. It was no longer an elevator in endless ascension, but a grand library, with bookcases reaching up to unseen heights. The spine on the books caught his attention. Some were written in alien, long-lost languages; others he recognised, by words that made special sense to him. Mementos of his own life, and those that meant something to him.

At the centre of the room sat a strange figure - akin to a man, but not quite. His extraordinarily large nose was a dead giveaway to the fact. This individual was the only constant in the blue room.

"Igor..." The young man spoke, clumsily walking forward, unaware of how much his body has changed. He was taller than when he died, and his hair had grown long past his waist. Despite being physically older, he was essentially a newborn, upon release from the Great Seal. Complete dominion over his own body was coming in slow.

Igor took his time regaining himself. His freedom from catatonic state by Nyarlathotep's hand felt like waking up from a long, uncomfortable nap. Large, bloodshot eyes blinked open, and gazed on the man with a look of recognition. He found amusing and rather poetic that this would be the first thing on his mind. That today, through Nyarlathotep's defeat, a miracle has occurred; that his first guest as Master of the Velvet Room would be standing again before him.

"Ah... I hoped I would one day see you again." Igor's gentle voice betrayed a hint of sadness. Minato Arisato was not only the first Wild Card, but the only one to have died. "Welcome back, to the living. There is much to do, people and places to be reacquainted to."

Igor was not human, but he was every bit as fallible as one. Deep inside, he considered Minato's sacrifice and Nyarlathotep's return as failures on his part. However, he did possess a certain humble pride, and this day was the ultimate testament to it. His faith was never misplaced.

[ ]

Akira regained consciousness. Makoto was the first face he saw, close to him, restless in a slumber about to break. Everything around them was still dark, but faces started coming into view as his mind cleared. Ryuji, Ann, Morgana, Yusuke, Futaba, Haru. They held them close, like a cradle. Kamiyama was close behind them, with a faint shimmer of Ozymandias at his back, to retain a notion of ground beneath their feet; the last notion of physicality in this world. This morsel of power facilitated their final getaway before Nyarlathotep's world ceased to be forever.

Above, the stars began to fade, as the butterflies flew away, guided by Elizabeth, Margaret, and Percival. Only Lavenza remained, lighting the way ahead towards the door. They were going home.

"We won, dude. We won." Ryuji was the only one to speak. He was on the verge of tears, as if in disbelief over their triumph. And truly, his sentiment was shared by all.

They crossed the threshold through to the other side, with Susumu closing the door on Nyarlathotep's world to let it extinguish, once and for all. With one final glance behind, he meditated on Nyarlathotep himself, how his once 'benefactor' proved in the end, every bit like the petty old men who rent the world asunder by their own pride and greed. This Dark Lord almost had. Something needed to be done to prevent it happening again. But what exactly - he could not yet hazard a guess.

Back in the Velvet Room, the Phantom Thieves mended their wounds and restored their energy. They knew they could not stay long, but their recovery turned into a brief celebration of their accomplishment. The harrowing tensions of battle came undone. And for a little while, they allowed themselves to be carefree and joyous.

Makoto awoke a few seconds after coming in, stirred by Belladonna's and Nameless' performance. It might be clarity of mind and spirit, but the song sounded rather different to her, more lively and vigourous. Maybe, this too was a sign to their success. But what appealed most to her at that moment lay on a more basic level.

"Something on your mind?" Akira sat next to her at the foot of the stage.

"Yeah, actually." Makoto put rest her chin on her hand, polishing the thought into perfection. "I'm thinking of something very particular, and important. And in case I forget it, I'll need you to remember."

"What is it?"

"When we're out of here, please take me out for a dance, to a place like this."

"Blue?"

"Jazzy."

"You got it." Akira's old smile graced his lips. "I promise I'll take you out to dance, maybe tomorrow or the day after, maybe when you least expect it. And speaking of promises, don't think I've forgotten the one we made back there."

Makoto did not need to say a thing on the matter. The private smile on her face did that for her already.

Soon, the time came for farewells - something neither of the Phantom Thieves was good at. Despite the horrors and the dangers, this oasis in the midst of the desert would always remain in their hearts. One by one, all nine walked the ethereal path back to their world, to LeBlanc. However, to their bemusement, they ended up coming out in the exact place they vanished from in the beginning. The second storey in Arancia.

It was past midnight, and nine individuals suddenly materialised inside the closed premises of the soda joint, incidentally committing trespassing. The batteries on their phones were completely drained, so their only recourse was a messy, but subdued search for keys. This took them longer than any of them expected, but they finally made their way out into the street.

No trains ran at this hour, and the nearest night bus was still far. The nine were faced with two choices; lodge elsewhere, or simply brace themselves for a long walk towards the bus stop. Susumu Kamiyama's presence discredited the former option, as a need to avoid unwanted attention. So with varying degrees of annoyance, they made way.

Ryuji was baffled that they had to do this after saving the world again, while Ann yelled at him to keep his voice down. Futaba teased Morgana, while Yusuke and Haru remained relatively tolerant towards the bother. Kamiyama stayed mostly quiet, fascinated by their group dynamic outside of the roles as Phantom Thieves. As for Akira and Makoto, they were more at peace with the ordeal of finding a bus to take them to LeBlanc, well aware of the irony. This saga ended in much the same way as it started, with a nightly stroll about town.

Minutes later, a set of headlights met them at an intersection, and two familiar voices greeted them.

"it's a little late to be out here, don't you think?" Boss chuckled.

"You're over the legal age for curfew. It's not a problem, but it is troublesome." Sae got out of the car.

"Sis!" Makoto ran to hug her older sister.

"You had us worried, including you, Kamiyama-san." Sojiro approached the group, catching Futaba in the process and she leapt to his shoulder. "The gig ended a while ago, and we had no way of reaching you after your blue friend faded on us."

"You mean Lavenza?" Akira asked, alarmed.

"Relax, she's okay now, back at the café, probably emptying my fridge, but nevermind that..." He lowered his voice. "Is... is all good? Did you guys win?"

"Man, did we!" Futaba smiled widely. "It was frightening and awesome, and oh shit, I need to write this down and post it on Ao3!"

"It was indeed very eventful." Yusuke added.

"And exhausting." Ann joined in.

"And you know, I could actually have a good old cup of joe, like with lots of cream and sugar." Ryuji was the first to climb aboard Boss' minuscule car. Everyone else started following his lead.

"We're already on a sleep deficit, so what's one more couple of hours up?" Akira did not conceal his excitement.

"It's gonna be hell to catch up on our responsibilities come the morrow." Makoto joined. "I'm driving, if that's okay with you, Boss."

Neither Sae nor Sojiro had much of a say at that moment. All they could do was resign themselves to the most cramped, uncomfortable ride towards LeBlanc, with ten people and a cat within. Halfway through the ride, Sae realised they could use her own cellphone to call for a cab. But at that point, all within the vehicle were committed to end the night this way. Together, partaking equally of life's pains and joys.

They would have it no other way.