12/05 – Performance Review

Deep within the recesses of his mind, immersed in the quiet core of his being, Ren Amamiya grappled with the newest addition to his arsenal. Its mask weighed on him in a way both familiar and alien. Familiar in that by now he was no stranger to this part of the ritual; tear off the mask, assert his will over the power it represented and make it his own. The alien nature came from the sheer amount of power to grapple with. The mask of Metatron burned like molten metal, its heat threatening to boil his eyes, char his skin, and blacken his skull. Were he alone, it'd be too much to bear.

Blessedly, he wasn't alone.

As Ren struggled to so much as get his fingertips underneath that burning steel, he could feel others lending their aid. The Phantom Thieves, Sojiro, Toranosuke, and even the twins all worked to ease his burden, even if only in spirit. With their help, a nigh-insurmountable task became 'merely' an intense struggle, and after what felt like ages, the mask came away with the tearing of flesh and a guttural scream.

Through the pain and his muted, dreamlike vision, he could just make out the proof of his success: his domino mask, but made of gleaming platinum, its wingtips and "lashes" instead a brilliant gold. It was proof of the difference between him and Akechi. Between him and Shido, and all those other corrupted, predatory Palace rulers: as it happened, using his power to raise others up had paid dividends.

The mask itself seemed to take note of his triumph, its scalding heat settling into gentle warmth. As it faded into light, a booming, mechanical voice declared, "I am Metatron. The power of the chancellor of heaven shall become thy mask and striketh down the army of darkness."

A hard blink saw him crumpled on the cold floor behind the bars of his cell, the only reminder of his success being a lingering sensation on his fingertips. Surrounded on all sides by shades of gray and royal blue, his eyes drifted to his right, where he could hear Caroline going through her drill-sergeant act with Alice; up ahead was Igor's empty desk, at once not twenty feet away and nearly one hundred; finally, Justine stood to his left as always, apparently unbothered by the gasping, sweaty mess Ren had become.

Justine caught his eye just long enough to confirm that, yes, he had indeed survived his ordeal before offering a nod of approval. "You've harnessed quite the powerful Persona, Inmate. Another significant improvement."

Ren said nothing, instead pulling himself to his feet with a groan and leaning against the bars. He wouldn't be able to do much until Caroline returned, and so decided to spend his time watching the other twin work, as had become habit. In spite of everything that'd happened the past year, he found it kind of cute seeing the kid all dressed up and doing paperwork.

But she wasn't doing paperwork, he noticed. No, she was reading something… something remarkably familiar. The beat-up leather cover, the coffee stains, the errant cat hair between the pages…

"Where'd you get my journal?"

"Calm down, Inmate," was her non-answer, delivered in the same flat tone as ever. "You should be well aware by now that-"

"'There is no expectation of privacy in the Velvet Room'," he finished in unison. "I remember. I'm just surprised that it's here."

Justine looked up at him, unimpressed. "Really, now? Did you believe that we asked your guardian for your phone number?" She closed the journal and tucked it into a pocket before going back to her paperwork proper, facing him fully to keep him from peeking. "We have everything we need to facilitate your rehabilitation."

He could almost believe her; the thing followed him into the Metaverse after all, probably because it usually sat in his own pocket. Taking a more relaxed posture against the bars, Ren asked, "But why my journal? How's that help you… or me?"

Without looking away from her writing, she said, "If you must know, it's a useful gauge of your progress. Should you succeed in averting the Ruin, it would be best if you were to acquire lasting skills and habits for the future. For example," Justine once again brandished his journal, "your handwriting has improved significantly. Further, you've acquired many productive hobbies."

"Uh-huh," Ren said. He couldn't speak to his handwriting, having not paid it any mind, but she was right about his hobbies at least; he never would've considered taking up shogi last year. "Is that where you get ideas for your field trips?"

Her brow furrowed with irritation. "I will remind you that our outings- rather, your assignments are for research purposes. For your sake, I advise that you not make light of the efforts we take towards your rehabilitation."

Nowhere near intimidated, he said, "We went winter shopping for research? You bought a snow globe for research? Actually, I bought the snow globe."

Justine simply maintained her glare.

"You made me gorge myself on a burger for research?"

She looked at the floor with a quiet sigh.

Thrilled at shutting her up for once, he pushed a bit more. "I watched you ruin a cup of coffee for research? Those beans cost money because of the flavor, you know?"

Finally she faced him, saying, "We were there to offer thanks to your guardian. It appears that he was more lax in his discipline than originally believed."

That had Ren wearing a lopsided grin. "If it helps, I owed him a long explanation the next day, marking my… second interrogation in the past year?" The morning after he'd brought the twins over to LeBlanc saw him being grilled by Sojiro and Futaba. It happened that Boss, old charmer that he was, had completely misunderstood Ren's writings about 'going out with the twins'. Meeting the twins themselves apparently inspired him to grill Ren more thoroughly about their relationship 'just to be safe', with Futaba adding pressure by way of providing evidence of their other outings that she'd pulled from his phone.

Not the most relaxing morning.

"I see." Justine tucked her clipboard under her arm before moving to stand in the cell doorway. With a look of harsh judgment on her face, she struck the journal's spine against her palm. "It is commonly said that the third instance of an event marks a pattern; sit down and we shall complete the set."

Knowing better than to object, Ren did as ordered, sitting cross-legged against the concrete floor. Now able to look her in the eye without issue, he inclined his head as an invitation to continue.

"Now then, Inmate," she flipped the book open to a random page, "as your warden it is my business to monitor your doings both in and out of your prison. Of course, this includes the company you keep. Further, as you should be well aware, your contractees ought to correspond with the twenty-two Arcana."

Granting her less than his full attention, Ren idly fiddled with his shackles as he recalled what happened whenever he opened a deal with someone: a voice not unlike the twins' sounding in his head, reciting a poem commemorating the new connection, promising freedom and 'new power'. Those were both well and good by his standards, but the owner and source of the voice remained a mystery. Maybe he could get some answers there. "Okay... So are we starting with Strength, or should we wait until Caroline gets back?"

"I am doing the questioning, Inmate." Another look found him, this one promising punishment the next time he spoke out of turn.

Now, being that she lacked her sister's weapon and temperament, one would expect Justine's glares to lack the same impact. Ren knew better; that she seemed to hold rank over Caroline was all the backing she needed. Thus, with the clatter of chains, he straightened his posture and crossed his legs.

Nodding her approval, she continued, flipping to somewhere in the first third. "We'll begin with your combat partners. First: the Magician, representing action, self-confidence, and potential."

"That'd be Morgana, to a T."

"Correct. He's your housemate, I gather," she said, tracing her finger along a page as she read. "Where was he during our visit? In fact, he's never around during our outings despite accompanying you nearly everywhere." Again her eye met his. "Why is that?"

"Let's see," he said, bouncing his knee while he thought. "Either at home or wandering around town. He doesn't like being a third wheel, so he usually keeps out of my outings." Noting the wistful look in her eye, he added, "Did you want to pet him or something? Trust me, he likes it."

The wistfulness vanished, replaced by the usual condescension. "Please refrain from making such childish assumptions."

"I didn't hear a 'no'. Tell you what: next time we're in Mementos, you can come over and say hi. Deal?"

For a long few moments, she was silent. Then she fixed him with her usual stern look and said, "Know your place, Inmate. You should be ashamed to even consider bribing your warden."

Ren simply shrugged.

"Back to the matter at hand, this Morgana seems far more knowledgeable than any mere feline. It says here that he's the one that introduced you to Mementos?"

"Right. He's not a cat, though."

Justine nodded, flipping past the next few pages. "So he often reminds you. He's this cartoonish thing while in the Metaverse, transforms into a van to traverse the tunnels of the collective unconscious, but is reduced to an ordinary cat in your world… what an odd creature."

"That's for sure. Hey, do you know what he is?" Justine raised a brow, and he continued, "He's not a shadow or a human, but knows so much about the Metaverse." Ren raised a brow in kind and sent her a sideways glance. "Is he yours? Or Igor's?"

He expected a reprimand, some lecture about how "ridiculous" the mere notion of a nigh-eldritch, metaphysical location such as the Velvet Room producing anything like a feline was. Instead, though her brow furrowed and she moved to pinch the bridge of her nose, her apparent headache was less due to annoyance than another rush of memories. This instance was especially bad; it soon had her clutching at her head and taking a shaky step forward to lean against the cell door.

"Justine?" All playfulness gone, Ren rose to one knee to better examine the pained little girl. That's all she was by his reckoning, weird dream-person or not, and he couldn't just sit by and watch. Reaching a hand through the bars, he lightly gripped her shoulder. "Justine, are you okay?"

"Hands off, Inmate!" was his only warning before a baton came down Ren's wrist. While he pulled his arm back in, less out of obedience than reflex, Caroline stepped into view. Eyeing her sister, she asked, "Justine, what's the problem?"

"Just a headache," Justine said after several hard blinks at her twin. "The inmate is attempting to use his pet as a bargaining chip."

"Oh yeah?" She turned on Ren, striking her baton against the bars. "Haven't we spoiled you enough, Inmate!?"

"Not nearly." Ren said. "Can I get an eyepatch? I'll let you pet my cat."

That had her reeling. "W-Why!? You don't even need one!"

Funny that she said that, as Ren could recall their trip to the movies where, in between runs to the concessions, he'd managed to spot the girls swapping their patches for their 3D glasses, revealing that their eyes were just fine. He didn't need his eyewear either, and so didn't say anything, but since she brought it up: "And you don't need yours. So what?"

Her hand started towards her eyepatch before stopping and instead settling on her hip. An unfriendly smile came to her face, and she said, "I see. Our master steps out and you forget just where you are." That smile soon twisted into a snarl, and with a flick of her wrist her baton was extended and arcing with electricity. "It goes both ways, Inmate; let me remind you!"

"Enough for now, Caroline." Justine placed her hand against Caroline's arm, then stepped a bit closer to whisper in her ear. Not quietly enough, she said, "I'll put it in his reward basket later, Caroline." Ignoring the blank look she got in response, she stepped back and returned to the notebook. "Back to the matter of your allies, we'll be moving on to the High Priestess, representative of feminine guidance and patience, as well as inner knowledge."

Grateful for the change in subject, Ren perked up, saying, "Student Council President Makoto Nijima."

"That's the one with the spiky outfit, right?" Caroline asked, regaining her own composure and switching off her baton. "I like the look in her eye."

"As does our inmate," Justine said, offering the notebook to her. "See this sketch here? Of her with bloodied fists and burning red eyes?" The two fixed him with their own heated gaze, each of their eyes bright with what he'd wager was jealousy. "This is how you see your 'Queen', Inmate?"

Ren looked between them, making a show of humming and rocking on his haunches in a bid to stall for time. The wrong reply would earn him an earful at least, made worse by the fact that they all knew he couldn't leave until he was dismissed; were they so inclined, these two could make it a quite literal waking nightmare.

"Yusuke drew that one," he said at last. "Mine should be on the next page over."

"You seriously hand out your diary to those guys?" Caroline asked with a scoff. "What makes you think you can be so lax after what happened with that other Wild Card?"

He waved her off. "We had him pegged from the start and he never touched the thing. It's fine."

"Arrogant as always!" She stuck her baton through the bars to jab Ren between the eyes. "With a big head like that, it'll take you lightyears to thwart the Ruin!" Jab. "You wanna feed your friends to the meat grinder? Is that it!?" Jab, jab. "Inmate!?"

"That's not what a lightyear is," Ren said under his breath, low enough to be drowned out by even Justine's giggling.

"Perhaps it's for the best that others have access to your writings," she said, again offering Caroline the book. "Here, there are several pages worth of notes and reminders for our Inmate. It appears that the High Priestess refuses to leave you be." She showed Ren the page, pointedly tapping a small doodle in the bottom corner. "Is that why you've likened her to a warden, complete with uniform?"

"Yes." A smile came to his face as he recalled his work. It was nothing special, certainly not on Yusuke's level; simply a deformed Makoto and Justine nagging a familiar, dashing prisoner, the former done up in a long-legged version of the latter's uniform.

"Hold on, where am I?" Caroline asked. Again she turned on Ren, this time nearly pouting. "You're not playing favorites, are you?"

"Calm down, Caroline," Justine said. "You'll get your turn. For the time being, we should resume the evaluation." Returning to the notebook she said to Ren, "Your High Priestess is assigned the role of strategist, correct?"

Ren nodded. "Correct."

"Hm. I trust that you're not merely deferring decision making to her?"

"Not at all. She's the advisor, not the leader."

"Seems more like a nanny to me," said Caroline. "Look at this! School notes, reminders, attack strategies; who's in charge here?"

"I am. I asked her for help since I can't go to school, and we cook up those strategies at the hideout."

"You always have an excuse ready." Her expression lightened a bit. "Still, you're using your allies to fill gaps in your skill set, like our master advised. Good to see those ears work, Inmate."

Again, he shrugged. "Just doing my job."

"If you're done pampering our inmate," Justine said, "we must get back on topic. The High Priestess, while also an 'advisor', to use your words, primarily fights shadows with merely her fists? How can someone so apparently dependable be so very reckless?"

"I get asked that a lot."

"Hold on, Justine," Caroline said, "she uses knuckledusters, so are they really 'mere fists'? And she's got that gun, too."

"Armored fists are scarcely better, I should think," Justine said. "Further, her being a short-ranged combatant is a stark contrast to the rest of the Inmate's party."

"Besides the inmate himself. He's got those little knives, doesn't he?" Caroline retracted her baton to about the length of Ren's hand and expertly mimed a few of his own flourishing slashes. "See? The range is pitiful."

"Perhaps we lack the proper perspective," Justine said, shaking her head at the display. "Inmate, has the Priestess' short range been an issue in combat?"

Ren, his eyes having been ping-ponging between the two as they spoke, took a second to choose his words. On the one hand(heh), she didn't have a choice in the type of weapon she got and like everyone else she took to it quickly, on top of Anat helping her close the distance; on the other, he still got nervous watching her go up against even something like a Kaiwan precisely because of the range issue. Trying to evade the question, he said, "Yes and no. It depends."

That had Justine pouting in earnest, a slight downturn at the edges of her mouth. "That is not a satisfactory answer, Inmate."

"Isn't it?" Caroline asked, couching her baton against her shoulder. "If she's still alive and on the team, something's going right." She looked to Ren. "Right?"

"Sure, we'll go with that," Ren said.

Justine resumed pouting for a bit longer, her eye looking between her sister and their prisoner, before letting out a quiet sigh and returning to the notebook. "Fine. The next of your comrades: the Empress. A card of fertility and prosperity, assigned to those of a composed and elegant bearing."

Were Ren to be completely honest with the twins he'd admit that his mind first went to Hifumi, his go-to when he thought of elegance, her gameplay manner notwithstanding. Of the Thieves, though… "Haru, then. You'd like her, Justine; she wields an axe."

"Do not patronize me," she said, glaring at him over the book. "This one is a gardener, it seems. Your drawings suggest that they're unfit for the marketplace. Why, then, do you see fit to serve them to your party members?"

"That's just cruel, Inmate," Caroline said, having moved to read over Justine's shoulder. "You couldn't get the God-Killer to help you with this?"

"Sojiro?" Ren shrugged. "He did, but said they're just not market-worthy. It's an acquired taste, but they're full of nutrients." He cocked his head towards Caroline. "Caroline, you're not too picky; come by the school sometime."

That had her baton striking the bars harder than usual, the shrill metallic report echoing through his cell and his skull with equal intensity. "You're already in the hot seat for bribery, Inmate! When will you learn!?"

"The way you handle him, not until he's long dead," Justine said, waving her off. "This Empress… an heiress, but you don't entrust her with funding your operations. Do you think that's wise?"

"It's not her money yet," Ren said. "And I couldn't ask her to do that, not after I blew 100,000 yen on rock salt."

That had them both dumbstruck and wide-eyed.

Justine recovered first. "...what?"

"You got scammed!?" said Caroline, driving her baton into the floor. "Just what are you doing out there!?"

"I got it back," Ren offered.

"You shouldn't lose that much in the first place!"

"Caroline, you man the door in the human world," Justine said, sending her sister a judgmental look out of the corner of her eye. "As his warden, it is your responsibility to prevent such occurrences. Please tell me you weren't preoccupied with people watching again."

"It's not my job to babysit him! A-And the outside door is a great location for candid research on human activities!" Caroline returned the look, this time alongside a demeaning sneer. "You're just mad that you lost the drawing! Admit it!"

"Your failings have nothing to do with me," Justine said, fully turning to Caroline with an outright glare. "That you insist on attempting to shift the blame only makes those failings more apparent."

"I'm not shifting anything, I'm telling you to take responsibility! You're the one with his number; you need to check in with him more often!"

While the two bickered, Ren saw fit to bow his head and stare at the floor, its featureless granite being an excellent focus through which to delve deeper into his headspace. The walls and the twins faded away, replaced by his current lineup of Personas arranged in a circle and striking dramatic poses. Immediately in front of him was Metatron, his skillset and statistics both out of sight yet clearly understood. It was a strong all-rounder out of the box, with a penchant for Bless-type skills like his fellow angels. He'd have to do something about that Electricity weakness, though. Did he have a card for that?

"Inmate!" The barked order, closely followed by a pair of gloved hands taking him by the face, snapped him back to reality. "Are you listening!?" Caroline demanded, her gloves doing nothing to keep her fingers from digging into his cheek.

Ren tossed his head to and fro in a bid to free himself, his efforts worthless against their otherworldly strength. "No," he ground out, "I wasn't listening to your bickering."

"Watch your tone," Justine said, gripping a patch of hair near his temple. "If anyone is to be offended, it's us. Here we are trying to help you, and you can't even be bothered to pay attention."

After a moment more, they released him, leaving him to nurse his already-bruising cheek. "Alright, so what were you saying?"

"We were asking about the Empress' firearm," Justine said. "A high-yield grenade launcher stands out a great deal compared to the more conventional ballistic weaponry wielded by the rest of your companions. As well, it only carries one round, with reloading being too impractical to attempt in-battle. Why bother?"

At first, Ren was surprised at himself, or at least at the idea that he'd missed all of that. Once that wore off, though, he said, "Milady actually handles most of the shooting. She'll usually jump in at the start of a fight to scatter the enemy before we move in for close combat."

"That's that Persona with the whole armory under her dress," Caroline said. "So what's with the grenade launcher?"

He shrugged. "It's just as good in a pinch. Besides, she likes explosions."

"I can get that, I guess."

Justine sighed. "Of course you would. Now, Inmate, the Empress' Persona is based on a figure infamous for ruthless betrayal and deception. In light of recent events, and knowing that one's Persona is a reflection of one's innermost self, does this not concern you?"

"Not at all," was Ren's easy answer. "She betrayed her dad, her fiance, and the family business, so I think that's the deal with Milady. Besides," he went on with a sigh, barely perceptible remorse showing on his face, "she's had plenty of chances by now."

Truth be told, when they first encountered Haru, he'd been horrendously anxious at the prospect of facing what might've been the Black Mask persona-user. And who could blame him? As much as he knew at the time, they were face-to-face with a killer, one with far more experience than any one of the Thieves. What was worse: she'd had Morgana on her side, which no doubt meant that she knew their strengths and weaknesses. Sure, all of these worries were wiped away the second she opened her mouth, but still.

Besides, all of that came to pass anyway with Akechi.

"Inmate?" There was a shrill chime as Justine tapped her clipboard against the bars. "Is there a problem?"

After a hard blink, Ren looked up at the twins, seeing two identical faces staring back at him with identical concern, all furrowed brows and pursed lips. He smirked at them and said, "I'm just so grateful that you're worried about me."

"Of course we are!" Caroline said with a huff. "Your success is our success!"

Justine nodded. "Were you to fall prey to such an obvious trap, especially after overcoming the false Wild Card, it would reflect quite poorly on our capabilities as wardens."

Ren hung his head in faux-despair. "Aw, I thought we were friends here."

The twins looked at each other for a long moment, staring unblinking into each other's eyes. In Ren's experience, that meant that a sort of mental conversation was happening, a quick back-and-forth to help them think or, more often, to argue. This went on for a bit longer before they snapped out of it with a blink, a slight smile coming to each of their faces before turning back to Ren.

"We are more than capable of multitasking, Inmate," Justine said.

"Exactly!" Caroline again reached her baton through the bars, this time to 'pat' his shoulder. "I already told you, we're counting on you here!"

Justine nodded. "Truth be told, it's not unlike your relationships with your companions, albeit reversed. As your comrades rely on you and your Wild Card, you ought to rely on us to properly realize the Wild Card true potential."

"Don't be like that," Ren said, offering up one of his most captivating smiles, the one that famously convinced Futaba to visit the jazz club with him. "I'd be done for without you two."

Here in the Velvet Room, it only earned him looks of raw disappointment and disgust.

"You're embarrassing yourself, Inmate," said Caroline with a shake of her head. "We're not like your girlfriends outside, you know!"

"Moreover, fraternization is among the most grievous of sins, Inmate," Justine said, her hateful gaze burning into his skull. "Does your audacity have no limit? How many hearts must you conquer before you're satisfied?"

"Hey, now," Ren said, toying with his hair while his thoughts again wandered to the ladies in his life. True enough, against all odds many of them had developed feelings for him and had to be let down as gently as possible. He still felt bad about Haru, actually; maybe an apology gift would help. "It's not on purpose, honest. Maybe it's the Wild Card's power, huh?"

An unimpressed huff was Justine's reply. "A short-sighted excuse, as ever. Although," she gestured vaguely at the dungeon behind her, "being that you carry the very essence of a criminal, it would be no surprise that you would turn its power to your own carnal ends."

"This kind of thing never happened at home," Ren said. He rose onto one knee as he spoke, the slight gesture being more than enough for him to loom over his wardens. "Hell, maybe this is part of your master's plan?"

Caroline's baton soon shoved him back onto his rear. "I would hope you're not the same man you were 'at home'! Looks to me like the power we helped you build is getting to your head!"

"Or perhaps this talk of your female companions has you excited." Swapping her clipboard for the notebook, Justine said, "Let us move on to the Emperor, that you may cool your lusts."

Ren blinked in shock at the apparent pun. "Okay…?"

Nodding her approval, she opened the book with a flick. "The Emperor arcana symbolizes control, organization, and overall discipline, both of the self and of those in their domain."

"Yusuke, right."

"That lanky, oddball artist that can't feed himself properly," Caroline said, frustration seeping into her voice. "And here you are, feeding his bad habits for your own ends."

Ren tilted his head, confused. "How's that?"

Caroline grumbled in irritation, then motioned for Justine to hand her the book. Instead of opening it, however, she held it by the spine and shook it about, spilling no less than three skill cards onto the floor. Unlike the ones he got from the girls, though, these proudly bore Yusuke's signature on the back. "This plagiarism, Inmate! Who the hell do you think you are, abusing your compensation like this!?" Again her baton found its way into his cell, this time to bat him about the face before forcing his chin up to meet her furious glare. "Do you have any idea how long these take to write up!?"

Through the fresh ringing in his ears and the headache it brought along, he managed to say, "No idea, but it takes Yusuke a few minutes when his mind's right."

"A few-!?" She recoiled as if struck, going so far as to turn away from him, muttering to herself and pacing in and out of sight. After a few seconds of this she stopped and scooped up one of cards. "This is theft, you know! What do you have to say for yourself?"

"I'm a thief."

That had the girl shaking with anger, and he heard the creak of his notebook's leather spine as it drew dangerously close to being crushed in her grip. Her other hand again brought her electrified baton to bear, this time aiming the sparking tip between his eyes. "Don't make me come in there, Inmate! I'm not as merciful as our master!"

"I should stop her," Justine said, watching the way Ren pulled back from the weapon with wholly unprofessional interest. "Before that, I must ensure that you understand the effort that goes into putting together your compensation." After flipping through a few pages on her clipboard, she continued, "First, we must assess your current strength level and Persona lineup; next is conferring with our Master to try and ascertain and account for the many shortcomings in said lineup."

With each sentence, Caroline jabbed him in the chest from random angles, each sending a painful jolt through his body. "And then there's the printing!" she said. "We have to convert the guillotine into a printing press by hand and back again, all before you get back to your cell for fusion!" She grabbed a few more of Yusuke's cards and fanned them, her grip crumpling them at the edges. "And then you have some human nobody copying them in a- in a day!?"

By now, Ren's mouth tasted like copper, and dots swam at the corners of his eyes. More than willing to put an end to this he manged to force out, "I'm sorry."

"Damn right you are!" With a flick of the wrist she threw the cards in his face, a few of their edges leaving papercuts in his skin. Like her sister, she took a perverse glee in watching him nurse his wounds with quaking hands. Her delight was far less subtle, though, expressed through a low chuckle and taunting sneer. At least she'd stopped prodding him.

While Ren went about getting the cards from the floor, pausing only to roll his anchor off of one, Justine let out a heavy sigh. "You may have been correct after all, Caroline; clearly such blatant and excessive disrespect is nothing but proof of our lenience. Alas, we cannot govern all of his behaviors in the human world. Perhaps it is inevitable that our Inmate would grow more independent as he accumulates power and confidence."

By now Ren had finished cleaning and returned to his seat by the door, idly shuffling his damaged goods and staring Caroline in the face, silently asking if her tantrum was finished. By some stroke of luck, she didn't take the bait, instead turning to Justine to ask, "What are you talking about, Justine? And what's that face for?"

All eyes turned to Justine, who was herself studying Ren with a face that was harder to read than usual. Her typical condescension wasn't quite there; she was still judging him for sure, but there was something else, something like… well, it was anyone's guess.

Before he could make sense of that, she looked to her sister with a slight grin, saying, "It's bittersweet, isn't it? Our Inmate may break free of his bonds before we know it."

"For real?" Leaning forward, Ren gripped the icy bars of his cell door and gave it a tug, only to find it as sturdy as ever.

"You stop that!" Again, Caroline's baton came down on his hands before she turned to Justine with that same anger. "And Justine, don't go giving him any stupid ideas! He's nowhere near done with his rehabilitation!"

That odd look left Justine's face as she sighed and sent Caroline her normal look of disapproval. "Is that really how you feel, Caroline?"

"Are you calling me a liar, Justine?" she asked with a scowl, meaningfully beating her baton against her hand. For a long, tense moment they held eye contact, not communicating this time, but daring the other to either push the matter any further.

Justine broke off first and looked at her clipboard. After flipping through a few pages and clearing her throat, she sent her sister a pointed look as she read, "The way the Inmate's progressing, this next Palace will be done with in no time! I should put together a special reward for him; a one-of-a-kind gift, just from me!" Setting the clipboard aside, she again sent her sister that daring look. "Shall I continue?"

Caroline didn't respond, having been reduced to hiding her face in her hands in near-silence. What little Ren could make out were rather… uncharacteristic, dour mutterings. Something about returning to nothingness?

Nodding her satisfaction, Justine looked back at Ren. "Her dishonesty aside, I must agree with Caroline in that your successes may be worthy of a reward…" she trailed off, staring at him expectantly.

Ren rubbed his sore knuckles for a second or two, having taken the hint. "But it won't be that easy."

She nodded, a mischievous grin coming to her face. "Indeed. As we are meant to monitor your growth, it would be improper for us to simply hand you a reward for its own sake."

"Something like a final exam?" he asked. Immediately after, he thought of the upcoming finals over at Shujin, the full week of grueling testing being just what he needed to worry about on top of the election, Shido's Palace, whatever the Ruin was supposed to be, and his imminent departure. With all of those worries knocking around his head and heart, he fought to maintain his stoic demeanor, instead funneling some of that energy into the simple act of rubbing the nape of his neck in a show of stoic confidence. "Just say when."

Justine wasn't fooled. "You can relax, Inmate. We know that there is far too much on your plate for you to give any manner of examination your full attention."

"So quit acting so tough. You're no good to anyone if you run yourself ragged, and you know it," Caroline said, finally done with her fit. She stood there all prim and proper as if it'd never happened, the only evidence of her embarrassment being a hint of red along her ears… and that she refused to look him in the face, instead taking an unusual interest in the drab stone walls of the prison.

Ren, finding it adorable, couldn't keep the smile off his face as he said, "Right, right. I'll be careful."

"You'd better." To Justine, she said, "And don't act all coy, Justine. We use the same board; I know you've been wanting to reward the inmate, too! You've even been putting off your paperwork to mess around with that basket!"

This time Justine was left speechless and staring at her feet. After a moment of that and a deep breath, she raised her head and said to Ren, "Inmate, Caroline and I need to speak privately. Please return to your world at once."

With little more than a grateful nod, Ren stood up to leave. As he slipped into the cobalt abyss at the back of his cell and from there into the forest of hanging, ghastly chains beyond, he could barely make out the girls' voices as they quickly devolved into another spat.

Finding his way back to consciousness, he woke up under his comforter with Morgana snoozing away on his chest. All was as is should've been, and yet he couldn't get back to sleep with the new information he'd been burdened with. On top of everything else going on, the twins had a final trial in store for him, assuming that they'd survive Shido.

Morgana squirmed, nestling deeper into his makeshift bedding. "Only the best… Lady Ann…"

A pitying grin came to his face, and he reached out from under the comforter to pat the cat's head. He had too much to lose to worry about 'ifs' and 'assumptions'. Like every time before, they'd win and go home grinning, and no alternative was worth considering even for a moment. If he brought that same feeling to whatever the twins had in store he'd do just fine.

Alas, it was morning, and though only his body was properly rested, it was time to get up and face the day. Again he put his hand against Morgana's head, this time to jostle him awake.

Without opening his eyes, Morgana slipped out of his grip and under the comforter. "What~?" he said, curling into himself. "It's Sunday; lemme sleep a bit more!"

Ren tossed the comforter to the foot of the bed and sat up. "No can do. We've got a calling card to set up."

Immediately, Mona's eyes and ears were wide open, and he leapt to his feet. "For real!? Are we ready?"

"I know we are; someone just gave us a vote of confidence." Ren sprung to his feet and went about his stretches, flexing his back and shoulders before his morning exercises. Turning to his roommate, he flashed his toothy, eager smile. "It's showtime!"