A growl rolled in his throat, making his mouth twist in a snarl.

This is what Adachi thought of Inaba? A town reduced to rubble, nothing left but a mess of roads and few half standing buildings. His nephew seemed to be surprised- before, Adachi's inner dungeon had been even worse; before, none of the buildings were standing and flattened into twisted walls. Yu seemed to view this as Adachi's improved view of the town. It still made Dojima sick, seeing the places he'd tried so hard to protect, left to ruin, all while his former's partner's voice filtered around them, taunting and teasing.

Of course, there were touches that could only be from the murderer's incarceration. Prison bars and plexiglass often barred their way through the maze, meant to make their way longer and more ardorous. Some were puzzles, only unlocking when they'd done some inane task. Finally, after spending far too long on a puzzle that got them nowhere, Dojima had had enough of following Adachi's whims. The plexiglass exploded with the force of all of his anger and frustration put behind one mighty swing. For a brief moment, the murmur around them went silent.

The voices crashed back a moment later with a howl, Adachi's higher and louder than the others. "NO! Nononono! That's not fair! I played by your rules…mostly! You're not supposed to just bulldoze your way through! You stupid assholes, you're making me MAAAAAAD!" The team winced as the voices gain pitch and volume, indecipherable save for the former detective's, but all were unmistakably angry and loud.

The shadows from then on seemed to double in number and strength when they attacked. The barriers were reinforced, too; Dojima decided against trying to smash another, anyways. The worst thing you could do when you've got a suspect holed up was to make them mad. Mad suspects were unpredictable. Then again, he wasn't sure that Adachi was all that sane to begin with.

"Man, this is getting intense. I kinda thought that since we'd been here before, this would be a piece of cake." The knife spun around Yosuke's fingers, nervousness causing the blade to drop more than once.

Chie stamped her feet, trying to keep herself psyched up, even as they trudged on. "Well, this place is all from his head, right? He's probably had a lot of time to think while in prison."

Something in the back of the older detective's mind surfaced during this discussion. "You said that Adachi has a persona, right? Does that mean...anyone can get them? None of the others who fell into here during the riot ended up with one… right?" Suddenly, fears of criminals with supernatural abilities running amok rose up in him.

"No, they would have had to have faced their other selves, and let them transform. When Mitsuo was thrown in, he didn't accept his shadow-"

"Wait," Dojima interrupted, "Mitsuo...Mitsuo Kubo? He was thrown in here? That's why we couldn't find him?"

Yu nodded. "He had apparently tried to turn himself into police, but no one took him seriously, and he was apparently passed off to…"

Dojima groaned. "Adachi. Of course." It still took him off guard, to think of his former partner as this monster who had played the police...played him as a fool. He stifled the growl that wanted to escape, blowing it out as a huff through his nose instead.

Yu said nothing as his uncle's shoulders tensed at the talk of the serial murder case, but his lips did draw into a thin, nervous line. He looked to Naoto, who acknowledged his concern. He'd been loathe to breach his uncle's trust, but thankfully, the younger detective had put the story together when she'd noted the damaged column at the police station coinciding with the older man's early departure from work, and his previous behavior in the TV world. When Yu had told her about what he'd seen his uncle do, she agreed that they needed to be careful. Dojima may be a very carefully controlled police detective, but who knew what might happen in the heat of a fight?

Knowing Adachi, and how he goaded them during the showdown a year ago… particularly if he thought he could make Dojima do something he'd regret later…

Yu quickened his pace, trying to leave those thoughts behind.

His uncle had paused at the top of path, the last landing before the room Rise had indicated Adachi was located. Plexiglass, bars, and cement crumbled around them, leading up to darkened square. Dojima had little doubt what this twisted structure was from; when he was first detained, the confessed serial killer had been held in solitary for almost three months straight.

"Well, well, well… if it isn't the brats, back for another round! The golden boy and his merry band of misfits, here to save the day!" Too late, the group realized their disadvantage, unable to see anything in the pitch darkness of the pseudo-cell. "Wait, weren't there just eight of you before…? Who's the new kid?" A interrogation spotlight appeared in the darkness, blinding them. Everyone was still blinking back swimming dots of color when the unmistakable cackle of Adachi Tohru filled the air.

"No FUCKING way! Dojima? DOJIMA? Oh, man, I would have paid good money to hear all the dirty little secrets he has locked inside his head." The laughter rose to screeching levels. "So, *partner*, how's it feel to know all that c-crazy talk about the teevee was real? That you couldn't even find a murderer, no matter how much pavement you pounded, and all that extra work you made for yourself was for nothing? Can't even keep one lousy hick town safe, and now you're here, following the orders of a bunch of stupid brats… Don't even have a gun, do you? No, no, then you'd have to follow protocol and write down where you fired it, eheh, and bet the top brass would love that explanation! Gee, Dojima, how long before they put you out to pasture? A broken old man, trying to keep up with us youngsters…." Adachi continued to ramble, his words slamming at his former partner, trying to find the cracks in the man's defense.

The fire within Dojima was starting to burn out of control, each comment adding fuel to it, threatening to consume him whole. He tried to remind himself not to rush into battle, no matter how much his own shadow's biting monologue echoed through his ears. He knew Adachi was trying to make him mad, to make them slip up. The kanabo was starting to glow red hot from the heat pouring out of him, the roar of the flame inside him nearly drowning out the crazed maniac. This was it; never mind Adachi or the shadows, he'd die from the inside out by this strange fire within him. Damnit, of all the times to lose control…!

A flash in the darkness caught his eye. Even before the noise, he recognized what such a blast had to be.

"GUNFIRE! SCATTER!" The teens didn't need to be told twice. The spotlight was empty, save for a few ricochets.

Damn, of course Adachi would get his hands on a gun. In a twisted place of his own making, where treasure chests could be found in dead ends (Dojima was still baffled by that… though less than the freaky fox that had followed them in this crazy place), of course Adachi would conjure up a gun to use.

Another bullet whistled by his ear, cutting off his train of thought, and Dojima realized that his former partner wasn't the only one hunting them in the room. Shadows, at least a dozen of them, were emerging from the darkness, using the team's scattered formation against them. Three 'fuzz' types stood in front of him now, laughing and swaying, mocking him.

His limbs moved on their own, the fire coursing through his veins, directing his movements. The kanabo, still red hot, smashed through them, faster than the empty imitations could dodge. More shadows took their place, but he pushed forward, letting the flame consuming him to move him with inhuman power. One shadow, in the shape of a snake, attempted to bind him, but burned upon his touch. Kohryu shifted around him, picking off the few his user didn't smash into oblivion.

Another shot whizzed by him, a little too close for comfort. Adachi was close, a few meters ahead at most, if Dojima calculated correctly. A dozen shadows still stood between them, with still more coming.

This would go a lot faster if you stopped fighting against this fire and just let it run its course. A voice in his head echoed through him; his Shadow, Kohryu, or someone else's, he didn't know, but he knew the truth in the words. He didn't have time to fight a battle on two fronts. One way or another, he knew he was going to burn.

But he was going to burn, he'd make sure Adachi burned with him, never to hurt another soul in this world or anywhere else.

He stopped pushing against the roaring flame, and let the fire engulf him, the goddess's gift burning away the last of his fears and hesitation. His vision crystallized, and time seemed to slow as the shadows dissolved beneath the kanabo's might. The walls of the dungeon shuddered as the steel spikes embedded in them.

Just as the last shadow dissolved back into the mist, a violent impact hit his shoulder, nearly spinning him halfway around. One of Adachi's shots finally connected, in a place where the Kevlar armor under his sweatshirt didn't cover. Instinct wanted Dojima to cry out, but either the adrenaline or the fire kept him numb from the pain, driving him forward instead. He could see Adachi now, aiming towards his nephew with deadly accuracy. Not on his watch, damnit.

One hand caught the gun, forcing the firearm towards the ceiling, the other grabbing his former partner at the junction of his throat and chest, slamming him against the closest wall. The face twisted from an insane grin to a sneer of pain, and the demented maniac's yellow eyes widened and twitched.

Looking back, Dojima knew he shouldn't have been surprised at the idea that the serial murderer was his own shadow. Instead of suppressing those nasty voices and worst aspects, Adachi had embraced them as his better half. The former detective's mouth twisted into an ugly grin for his old partner.

"Here to ruin my fun like always, Dojima? I gotta thank you, if not for your ridiculous insistence on coming to visit your biggest failure over and over again, I would have never have gotten this wonderful opportunity to come back here." One of Adachi's legs lashed out in a kick, but his captor barely took notice. "Sure, it's a little run down, but no more than Inaba, eh? And it sure as hell beats prison! Heck, I think the only thing worse than prison was working with your sorry ass!"

Dojima may have had strength on his side, but he knew that if Adachi kept attacking and squirming, he might be able to get the gun free. If Dojima attempted to pull it out of his grasp, there would be a good chance the murderer would take the opening to slip through his fingers, and they'd have to start all over again. A good part of him wanted to shift his grip and just snap Adachi's neck in two, but he knew that would just give the man one of the escapes he so desperately wanted.

The fire bubbled up from his core again, and he felt it again snake through his limbs, too focused on the task to really fight it. "H-hey, what the hell, Dojima, did you stick your head in an oven or something? Goddamn, it feels like you're on fire, fucking hell!" Adachi tried to pull the hand on him away, only to scorch his fingers. Something under the palm pinning him was sizzling; possibly his own skin. "Holy hell, are you made of fucking lava or something? Shitshitshit!" His grip loosened on the gun, unable to bear the heat. His captor stood, unmoving, his grasp moving only slightly to wrap around the body of the gun, keeping the trigger blocked from the maniac.

Dojima gripped the firearm and squeezed, the metal crumpling like paper under his strength. The combined pressure and heat of the tightening fist was too much for the ammunition, and the whole gun exploded with one terrific bang. Shrapnel showered down on both of them, one piece drawing blood from the younger man's forehead. Adachi screamed, sputtered, and finally passed out.

Dojima barely winced, and let his former partner slide to the floor. Molten bits of metal sizzled as it dripped onto the rubble, followed by the dull thud of the crumpled firearm slipping from his grasp. Steam escaped his lips, mimicking the smoke he once enjoyed. The fire that had been plaguing him for the past week was gone, leaving only the embers settled in his gut. He almost missed it...without it, he felt so cold.

Kohryu circled around him, and only then did he see that the dragon had been fighting his own battle as Dojima had been locked in his own. The cracked mask of what had to be Adachi's persona glitched under golden scales for a few moments, before fading away into nothing.

"Uncle!" Yu's voice reeled him back to reality. The walls of the cell were dissolving around them, turning back into the forest of this bizarre world. Quickly, he counted heads; some of them were a little worse for wear, but all eight teens (well, seven teens and a demented bear mascot) were still standing. His nephew ran over, catching the older man in an awkward hug. "I saw you fighting Adachi when he was trying to shoot us. I tried to get there, but his persona kept blocking us. Only when you had Kohryu bind him were we able to smash through." The teen tried to catch his breath. "We need to get him out of here- Uncle! Your hand!"

Dojima blinked, and looked down. His right hand was covered with the remains of Adachi's gun, with small slivers and dots of metal embedded in the skin. It felt fine, but combined with the black soot of gunpowder, it looked like hell. "It's fine. I just need to wash it off. C'mon, help me drag this sorry excuse for a villain out of here."

His nephew nodded, and bent down to the fallen convict. Dojima wasn't surprised Yu quickly checked for a pulse; after everything that happened, he'd half expected he'd snapped his former partner's neck, the way the man had screamed. The relieved look under the silver hair told him that Adachi was still alive, however. The two men picked up the limp menace with more care than he deserved. Eventually, Dojima just slung the unconscious man over his shoulder, letting his nephew lead them back towards the real world.

"Detective Ryotaro Dojima, would you mind explaining again how you came upon the suspect, which, I should remind you, you were explicitly told not to go after?"

Shifting his weight from one leg to the other, Dojima ignored both the tone of the question and the seat in front of him. He'd been glad to have a spare set of slacks and a dress shirt tucked away in his desk; somehow he knew this meeting, already uncomfortable as is, would be worse if he was still in his sweatshirt and blue jeans. More specifically, a sweatshirt with a bullet hole in the shoulder, with nothing more than a bruise behind it.

If he had time to think about it, he'd probably freak out about *that* new development. The flattened projectile had plinked to the floor when he'd changed, and it taken him a good moment to remember that one of Adachi's shots had connected in a place that the kevlar vest hadn't covered. Sure enough, there was a nasty bruise, already black and ugly, under his shirt, but nothing else. No blood, no puncture. Another thing to add to the list of bizarre changes he'd have to worry about. Even his hand, which had been the ground zero for a gun exploding, was unscathed, save for a few slivers of metal buried in the skin.

"Dojima?"

The sharp tone snapped him back. "Sir, I don't know how many times you need to me to say it, but I wasn't expecting to find the escaped convict Adachi. I was simply running errands with my family on my day off, and was alerted to a disturbance by an employee at the store. I found the suspect, unconscious, suffering from burns on his chest and hand, in a back room. Recognizing the suspect, I called for backup. The suspect was transported to the hospital, and I came here to give my report." He swallowed the lump in his throat, knowing how bad he was at lying. He glanced at the floor. "I had no intention of disobeying orders, sir."

The sergeant sighed, and after holding the detective's gaze for a moment, pinched his nose. "Look, Ryotaro…. you're a good cop. Despite what you may think, we don't hold your former partner's betrayal of the oath against you. But… you're not as young as you used to be, and we'd catch hell if our lead detective died in the line of duty, particularly with the news taking such interest in that serial murder case. Top brass would like to desk you, but they're willing to give you a chance to stay in the field. They're demanding you pass a full physical before I can do that, though. Necessary precautions and all that." The older man sighed, averting his gaze from the detective before him. He knew this was bullshit, of course, but he also knew it would be his own ass on the line if he disagreed. "Pass that, and they won't have leg to stand on for keeping you off the beat, ok? Good thing you stopped smoking, already…" The pained smile didn't reach the man's eyes.

Dojima bowed, and turned on his heel out of the office. He kept himself in check as far as the garage before letting out a snarl. He really, really wanted to punch something…

"Careful, Dojima-sempai. I don't think that pillar could stand another impact." His gazed snapped to the teenager a few feet away.

The older detective rolled his eyes, running a hand through his hair and suddenly wished for a cigarette he didn't need. "Shirogane. Did Yu…?"

Naoto shook her head. "He did come to me with his concerns, but I had already guessed what had happened. It wasn't hard to piece together, what with your early leave the other day, the smashed pillar, and the previous strange behavior you had in the tv world." She offered him one of the take-away cups of coffee in her hand. "I heard you were called into a meeting when I came to drop this off for you. What did they say?"

Glad to have something to distract him, Dojima took a sip before answering. "Admin's not happy I brought Adachi in; they're grasping at straws to bench me permanently. Now they're demanding I pass a physical before I can go back out. They figure at my age, there's no way I can pass muster, never mind most of the rookies can either…" He glanced back at the kid. "Er, sorry."

"No offense taken." Shirogane smiled. "I suspect they're going to be disappointed, then. Did you really bend a piece rebar into a bow with your bare hands?"

Dojima took another sip of the coffee, not ready to answer that question just yet.