Falling.
Ryotaro Dojima knew he - no, they - were falling, even as the air took on the strange metallic scent that came with moving from the real world into the space behind the televisions. The blindfold that had been thrown roughly over his head itched; if he wasn't so disoriented with the strange viscous air, he'd make an effort to remove it. Why hadn't they bound his hands? Did they not know he'd discovered the mirror-
Ah-!
Any other thought was shattered against the ground. Pain shot through his arm and hip, his breath knocked out of his chest, and for a moment he was bewildered by the sensation… it had been months since he'd felt something so acutely.
A bitter laugh caught in his throat. For almost four months he'd been begging for this, to just have everything turn back to normal, and now… well, he wouldn't have long to enjoy this. If you'd call this enjoyment at all. No more fire, no more burn… just the electric sting of pain dancing along his nerves.
He scrabbled for the blindfold, ripping it and a few hair follicles off with it. The sudden brightness made him wince, forcing him to blink, before the red swam into a cohesive landscape. Massive rock walls loomed from each side, a small glint of sunlight glinting off… what was that?
If the fall hadn't taken away his breath, he'd had lost it at sight of the monstrous structure that filled the canyon in front of him. Shapes and structures twisted in on themselves as the towers undulated towards the sun, all made of a glass-like material that seemed to warp the surrounding landscape into angry red hellscape…
There was a rough hand at the collar of his shirt. "C'mon, copper, the boss wants to meet ya." Ah, right. He forgot about the gangbanger who'd chucked him in the first place. More than a little curious, and not exactly interested in a bullet in his brain, Dojima shuffled forward toward the construction in front of them.
Only as they drew closer did something catch his eye; something moving in the glass in front of him. Wait… not glass…
Mirrors. The whole structure was built out of mirrors. Was that why Kujikawa and Teddy couldn't find Seitou in this place? Try and scan it, and it reflected the rest of the environment around it? No matter, now. It was highly unlikely he'd ever get to tell them how Seitou escaped their notice, or even see them again, after this. If only he'd had some sort of opening…
Miserably, he watched his reflection trudge closer; it, too, unable to escape its fate. The man in the mirror was dirty, with a bruise forming on the right side of his face; the dress shirt wrinkled and torn in places and more than a few drips of crimson splattered against it. Behind him a short gangbanger, barely out of his teens, scanning the landscape around them; his gun dangling loosely in his left hand-
Dojima didn't give the thug time to react. One hand on the gun. Wrench it out of the way, skittering in the dirt. Other hand - a fist - connecting solidly to the unkempt jaw. Knocking him back and down. Hit him again. Again. Don't stop, until he stops struggling.
The breath rattled in Ryotaro's lungs, trying to escape a second time. Relying on muscle memory, he turned the perp over, one quick check for a pulse - thready, but there, and using the man's own jacket to bind his hands behind the back. Move down the legs, and to the shoes, using the laces to bind the legs together, then to the hands. Crude, but now he knew the idiot wasn't going to be coming after him any time soon.
Dojima stood up shakily. Now, he if he could...just….
Do what? There was no exit from canyon, as far as he could tell. No one knew he was missing yet; he was away on police business, and wasn't due to check in with work for another 24 hours. He wasn't the best on keeping people updated on his whereabouts. How long would it take for the kids to figure out what happened? Would they be able to find him at all?
A growl rose in his throat as he stared at his reflection in the twisted castle. The punk had said Seitou was expecting the detective. No doubt if he didn't show up soon, the terrorist would come looking for his little escapee. Damn, he really had no choice.
He picked up the pistol from where it had fallen in the dirt. For a place that only existed in people's hearts, this space sure felt real. The magazine was full, and the safety was off. Was this from the real world, or one of those treasure box finds? No, those weird weapon drops never had serial numbers like the one stamped above this pistol's grip. If he survived this, there would have to spend a long time tracing Seitou's supply routes.
Ryotaro shook his head. He was focusing on the wrong things right now. He was distracting himself from the knowledge he was about to throw himself into a suicide mission. The only way out of this nightmare was through the boss.
Carefully, he approached the doorway, keeping an eye out for guards, or more gangbangers. None seemed to be hanging out at the entrance, but that wasn't really surprising. Who was going to stroll through the front door here?
The first thing he notice through the threshold wasn't the lack of people, however.
Fog. He hadn't even noticed it was missing until it came back at him, full force, dragging his arms and legs down, roiling his stomach like a ship tossed at sea. Frantically he scrambled for the glasses he kept in his back pocket, praying they weren't cracked. Only when they were fully over his eyes did the sensations stop, and he could breathe a sigh of relief.
Flickering lights caught his attention after a moment. Neon lights, like those in the seedier areas near Okina city, plastered the concrete walls like spray paint. Gang signs were mixed with incoherent kanji. The best descriptor the detective could come up with was 'Strip club meets Prison'. Made sense, he guessed. The kids had said before that these structures came from the person's subconscious; and Seitou had the kind of life where such locations came up a lot.
An ugly grunt to his left alerted Dojima to the fact that he wasn't alone in the entrance. One of those wrestler shadows, who always hit like hell, was bearing down on him. Without the fire protecting him, the detective wasn't sure he'd survive one round with the shadow, let alone a full fight. Not even thinking, he raised the pilfered firearm and aimed.
The shadow man went down, taken off guard. Another shot, and suddenly the massive shape was dissolving into the floor, leaving a few old coins and a prayer bead. Why creatures in another world had money on them, Dojima would never understand. Probably some pyscho-bullshit about the human consciousness and the obsession with material goods. The bead would be useful, though. Anything that could heal him through this mess was another chance in his favor.
Slowly, he moved through the floor, looking for stairs up and out of this place. He needed to avoid any fight he could, and just try and get to the top as quickly as possible. Up around the corner was a door. Was it the stairs?
No, but there was a small green horse and a treasure chest. Deciding it was worth the risk, he snuck behind it, aimed….
The shot reflected off the beast's hide and missed Ryotaro's ear by an inch. Shit! He managed to dodge the teeth as the bit the air where his shoulder had just been. Desperate, he called out for a silent voice. Ryūjin!
His heart sank when there was no answering call in the back of his mind. He had hoped that even as the strange fire had abandoned him, his persona had held on…
There was a flash, a high pitched scream, and the acidic smell of ionized air. The horse shadow dissipated into nothingness, leaving a single scorch mark on the floor. There was no sign of the scale armored persona. Ryūjin?
Don't waste your energy. You still have a long way to fight.
The voice was vague and drifting in his mind, but still a sigh of relief to the detective. It wasn't much...but it was something, and a hell of a lot better than nothing.
The chest held a small golden key. Useless at the moment, but hopefully it would unlock a better treasure later.
Three floors later, it did. Inside the golden chest was a new weapon; a kanabo, long and thick with wicked spikes, but light enough for him to manage without the supernatural strength he'd relied on before. He checked the magazine of his 'borrowed' sidearm; with only 3 rounds left, it was best to flip the safety back on and stick it in the waistband of his tattered suitpants.
If nothing else, when his mangled body was found hanging in the real world, it might be enough of a clue to break Seitou's supply chain.
Dojima bit the inside of his cheek. He didn't want to think such dark thoughts, but he knew that his death was all but assured. His energy was limited, and the few first aid items he'd collected were only stopgaps for the bruises he was collecting.
A memory, from the beginning of this case, flooded his mind's eye. Nanako, Yu and himself at the living room table, watching the news of the escaped criminals. Nanako's soft, nervous voice filled his ears. "And you'll go catch the bad guys, right Daddy?"
"No matter what." He remembered he'd promised. "As I said, I want you both safe."
One more promise he'd break with his daughter. Though this time, he'd at least know he'd died trying.
Ryotaro knew he had to be close to the top when he pulled himself up to the top of the twisting staircase. The decor had shifted from the dirty concrete and spray paint to glass walls and marble floors. If the detective wanted to profile the sick bastard in charge, he'd guess this probably was Seitou's twisted aspirations of being the head of a global criminal enterprise. Seitou had spouted such delusions when he'd been convicted; that he had 'connections' that would see him free. The supervising officers had assumed this was a reference to Seitou's connections to Democratic People's Republic of Korea,though they showed they were more than willing to leave him to rot.
Maybe, though, Seitou had another ace up his sleeve. Yu had insisted that Adachi had been the willing pawn of otherworldly forces; maybe Seitou had made a similar deal as well. No way he'd have come up with all of this on his own….
The detective stopped getting lost in maybes and what ifs, and forced himself to focus on the physical world around him. Instead of the usual twisting hallway, the stairs emptied out to a wide, empty room. Empty, except for the large hulking shadow shaped like an oni in center, guarding the only exit out - and up - that Dojima could see.
'Come now, little detective. Did you think I didn't see you make your way in here, like the pest that you are?' The voice was like oil, coating the room. 'Interesting that you seem to be familiar with the rules of this place. No doubt gained when I decided to free myself of your mundane confinements, and assume my rightful place.'
It took everything in Dojima's power not to groan as he rolled his eyes at Seitou's pontificating. The man really saw himself as some sort of criminal god.
The detective blinked as he scanned the room for anything to use in his favor. Something in the corner of his vision moved; a butterfly? In this place? But the second he turned to look for it, the little splotch of color was gone. Only the cold reality that there really was no other way up to the boss.
'No way out, little pest. Time for you to learn what the world will know soon enough; Mess with the might of Seitou, and you die.'
The Oni shadow moved surprisingly fast. Dojima barely rolled out of the way as the massive spear blade smashed into the floor where he'd just been standing. While the oni wrenched the blade out of the crushed floor, Ryotaro slammed the kanabo into the creature's knees. It was a solid connection, and the oni sank to its knees, stunned. Seeing a glimmer of hope, Dojima swung the kanabo again, right at the ugly face….
Only to be sent flying as the spear blocked his strike. He hit the floor, hard. His head was swimming. His limbs felt like lead, pinning him down, even as the spear swung again, right on top of him.
In front of him, the little blue butterfly from before flitted by. Maybe it was the concussion, or maybe just his impending death, but with each beat of the creature's wing, time seemed to slow, further and further, until a single flutter took an eternity.
With that, the world went black.
Notes: Sorry this is so late. Hopefully someone is still reading this, and isn't too disappointed. I suspect most people saw this final little twist coming, and can guess who is finally going to show themselves with an offer that will either make or break a new contract for Detective Dojima.