It was trouble enough to start arguing with yourself. When there are two extra voices involved, you're really got to worry. If none of them will shut up, you're doomed.

As Dojima crouched behind a corner, waiting for a hallway to clear, he was pretty sure that if this kept up, he'd be dead in a matter minutes.

You always did have a flair for the dramatic, under that hardboiled exterior. Hikohohodemi growled. All I am saying is, you're no longer powerless. With both me and Ryūjin at your back, you don't need to be sulking in the shadows. You're not the criminal here, lay the law down around.

I agree , Ryūjin murmured, now we're properly aligned, there's little need to worry about being overwhelmed .

Dojima stifled a groan. I swear if you two don't shut up, I will bash my head against a wall until I'm unconscious, and then we'll allbe dead .

The wall will disintegrate first, dumbass . Hikohohodemi somehow made it possible to hear a smirk. Or did you already forget what I can do? Unbidden memories of the concrete pillar at the precinct's garage swam through his head.

Yes, we already fought about this. Dojima growled, internally . What I'm saying is, no matter how easy these shadows may be, they're not our main target here. Somewhere up ahead is Seitou Norburo, in league with something that is almost guaranteed to be even stronger than all of us on a *good* day, on their home turf. If I'm going to have even a slim chance of being able to survive this to see Nanako again, we need to use more than power to get through this. We need to watch our stance and use every tactic we can. So, unless you have something else planned other than 'run straight into a possible trap and get myself killed,' shut up!

The was an almost blissful silence for a while after that. The detective almost felt bad for using Nanako as a bargaining chip; with the close bond between the three of them, she was by far the most important thing they all held dear. None of them were willing to have a world unsafe for his daughter, not after he'd almost lost her once.

It was because of your contract with her that we were able to join together, after all . Ryūjin murmured. The wildcard ability needs a contract to instigate. You promised to keep her safe .

Dojima briefly considered how many times he'd promised that very thing and failed to do just that in the last year, and grumbled. If that was the case, had he have been one of the people Adachi or Namatame threw in the TV World last year, would this whole mess he'd suffered the last few months ever happened? Or would it have been even worse, having all that power and no way to save Nanako?

Enough of the introspection, we've got company . Sure enough, three burly variations of the wrestler shadows, covered in yakuza tattoos and little else rounded the corner, their scanning masks not giving him an opening to just slip by. Might as well get a little fun in before the final showdown.

Hikohohodemi made this a painfully unfair fight. The persona's influence on the detective's body made these shadows' physical attacks near useless. Dojima dodged the first massive punch aimed at him, grabbing the oversized forearm with both hands and twisting it upwards. A sickening crack followed, as the elbow rose in an unnatural angle. After a moment, the shadow dissipated into mist under the iron grip.

You've got a real sadistic streak , Hikohohodemi observed, as Dojima kicked out the knees of the next wrestler, felling it, then pinning the huge form on its front as he twisted its left arm back.

You would know; weren't you that part of me I kept repressed? A moment passed before the shadow underneath him, too, melted into the floor.

The last shadow proved trickier than the last two. It was fast enough to dodge the first two swings of the kanabo, but still missed Dojima with a wild swinging rampage. The detective grabbed the shadow's greasy hair as it passed. He pulled it back with sharp jerk, before twisting the neck with a snap. Something dark and disgusting gushed from the shadow's mouth before it reverted into the primordial slime it had once been.

See, I don't think you've ever bothered repressing it. You just never admitted you likedit .

"Mitsuru-san, you told me to let you know if we had any odd readings from the persona regulation unit, and… well, I'm sending the data to your laptop now. Yes, the signatures match almost identically to Tartarus and the readings from last May."

"No, he left for his hotel about an hour and a half ago. I could call his cellphone for… oh, you've already tried that. No, no plans for field tests. No, we decided against a geolocator for privacy concerns…."

"I understand." The engineer clicked the phone off, watching the huge volume of data roll in from the prototype. "Eh, he's probably fine. All the more data for us to use, the better...right?"

The structure was bizarrely laid out; as far as he could have seen from the outside, the tower rose up like a cone, capping at a sharp, jagged point. However, inside it seemed the floors got larger as he made his way higher, particularly up those last three floors. How high did it go?

The last floor had been brutal, and Dojima took a moment to chug one of the strange medical concoctions that he'd picked up from the last fight. How his nephew seemed to just know how these things worked was beyond him. Who picks up a bottle from the dissolving goo of an enemy and goes, 'eh, looks safe enough'?

Honestly, he hoped that the kids manage figure out where he was in time. The further he'd gone, and the shadows had gotten more powerful, more tricky to predict, the more he became aware that this really was going to kill him. No backup, no support; his nephew might have been insane to deal with all of this as a teenager, but he wasn't an idiot. Strong, trusted allies were important, and the kid had found them with his motley crew. Though, the idea of any of them dying to save him made him just as glad they were still safe, on the other side of the tv.

Stairs seemed to twist and shift underneath him for a moment before he reached the stability of the next level. Slowly, he peered around the edge of the stairwell, trying to discover what monsters were lurking here… but there was nothing. The short hallways was deserted, save the ornate, oversized door looming at the end of it.

A door adorned with skulls, chains, and blood.

Hackles on the back of his neck began to prick up. Something was terribly wrong with this floor, which probably meant only one thing.

Seitou.

He looked to either side of the door, looking for a means to slip past the trap of a front door. There was nothing, unfortunately, that suggested anything else for him to use. His ears did catch the snippets of conversation from the crack of the vestibule.

"I thought you said nobody could get past the upper floors of this place. That monster you ripped out of Kazuma was supposed to kill anything we wanted. So why is it dead, and that detective almost up here?!"

"Nah, we'll be fine, right? What's he going to do in here, arrest us? Seitou is linked to this whole place. You would have told us if we needed to hightail it out of here, right?"

"Shut up, you two." That was definitely Seitou's voice, but it sounded… off. Like his speech was being mixed with a voice scrambler.

"He's here."

So much for the element of surprise, damn .

The door pushed open easily enough, but that loud creak and groan it made while doing so made sure that all of the men inside had their eyes glued to Dojima, as the detective slipped in. If the situation wasn't so dangerous, it would definitely be highly awkward.

Scanning the room, his eyes widened. Mirrors. Every single surface was covered with thousands and thousands of mirrors, warping the reflections in their surfaces.

Wait, no, they weren't just reflecting the room. He could see people going about their daily lives inside those mirrors. Shoppers looking at things to buy, cars driving by, people adjusting their appearance in what they thought were their reflections. Even people in their own bathrooms; good to know that on top of everything else, Seitou was a sick pervert as well. No matter the subject matter, a hard ball of worry sank in Dojima's gut. He could monitor everything from here. See every move they'd make in real time. No wonder they'd never seemed to catch up to him.

A movement in the center of the room drew him away from the sickening realization. A twisted mound of bodies, burned black into charcoal corpses, mingled with oversized ammunition sat in the center, with a portion rising up to form a crude chair. Three of Seitou's old buddies, ones who'd they'd been looking for in the last few weeks, stood around it, scrambling for their guns at the sight of him. So this is where they were hiding, but… Seitou wasn't there. Where was he-?

That answer came as something slammed into him with the force of a speeding car. Two black clawlike hands gripped his throat as the twisted face of Seitou Noboru filled his view.

"Hello, detective. Nice of you to join us."

The breath stank like death and rot.

Wildly, Dojima swung the kanabo one handed with all his might into the man's side, sending him flying off. Immediately Ryotaro fell back into a defensive stance, holding his weapon up between him and his attacker, ready to strike or block whatever came next.

Unfortunately, Seitou seemed to recover just as quickly.

Whatever bargain the former inmate had struck to come to this place had not treated him particularly well in the way of his looks. Nobody would have called Seitou exactly handsome to start with, that was for sure, though apparently he'd been able to exude a certain slimy charm through his scarred lip and patchy eyebrows. He still wore the overly slick suit that had always marked him as a yakuza wannabe, which was relatively uncrumpled by the assault. Now, however, much of that was covered up by a growing blackness across his limbs, blurring the line from skin and cloth. Grotesque fingers were now claws that seemed to come to smoky tendrils instead of points.

Most obvious was the golden crown that now covered the top of his head, helmet-like. Thick, dull spikes covered its surface, menacing as it was ostentatious. Seitou's eyes matched the tarnished color as they stared at the detective, sizing him up.

Golden eyes, of course. What was it with villains being completely in tune with their shadows? Guess enjoying the worst in life made you more open to channeling your inner demons.

"Ahh….I recognize you… you used to come to the prison on occasion. The little renegade cop's partner, yeah? No wonder you're a bit more than useless with this place than most people. Dojima, right?"

The man in question didn't answer. He merely watched his opponent, waiting for an opening. As the other man teetered a moment on his feet, the detective took a chance and swung for the blackened legs. Seitou dodged most of the assault, though the kanabo shredded some of the silverish grey suit in the process.

Patatatatat!

It took a moment for Dojima to realize those few gangbangers and henchmen he'd seen were shooting at him. It was a testament to Hikohohodemi's power how little the shots that connected bothered him, but it was still an annoyance - and more importantly, it was distracting him from Seitou's exact movements.

Something knocked the air out of Dojima's lungs, sending him tumbling forward. "Were you the one to bring in your partner, after he'd used this place to kill? No wonder he was so willing to complain about everything."

A hard kick hit his ribs. Damnit, he felt that one. "I was already considering killing someone here, just to let it show up like the others did last year. We watched that story all year long in jail, laughing at you numbskulls, unable to to do a thing. Wonder what people would do if another one showed up? Would they think it a copycat killer? Or worse, see you pigs as the worthless idiots you are?"

The next kick met with empty air, as the detective pushed his speed to the max. Up came the kanabo, smashing into the twisted criminal's face. Blood and spit spattered from the hit.

"AAAAUGH!" The howl was almost inhuman, as the criminal ducked back into the shadows

Another bullet ricocheted off Dojima's shoulder, as he caught movement from the left of him. We need to get rid of the support, before they can heal this punk , Ryujin rumbled.

Not exactly close enough for me to hit , Dojima grumbled. Memory of the plastic window at visitor's room came to mind, suddenly. Oh... that could work .

Keeping an eye out for Seitou, the detective picked up a bit of rubble at his feet. Grasping it by his thumb and index finger, he waited for the gangbanger to squeeze another shot. Sure enough, he caught the glint of metal taking aim, giving him a target. He flicked the rubble, sending it flying at the gunner's head.

Even Dojima had to wince at the unpleasant crack the rubble made bouncing off his target. Not enough to kill, but definitely enough to stun. The way the head met the floor afterwards, there was little doubt that gangbanger was going anywhere.

One down...a couple more to go.

Sudden movement to his left made the detective dodge just in time from another swipe of those inhuman claws. Seitou was still fighting, but he sure had been seeing better days, as blood mixed with a shadowy black ooze dripped down his face.

Taking a chance, Dojima shoved the kanabo in between the escaped convict's legs, twisting it forward and knocking him off balance. While he fell forward, Dojima wrapped his hands around one of those claws arms and twisted it up and forward.

The same moment Seitou's right arm made the sickening 'CRACK' of splintering bone, the left claws managed to find purchase in Dojima's shoulder, digging deep gouges into the detective's chest. Both men stumbled back in pain.

There was another shot that bounced off Dojima's head. No longer calm enough to restrain himself, Ryūjin let loose a storm of lightning that stunned the remaining gangbanger, energy reserves be damned. Finally, he could focus on Seitou without outside interference-

His whole body lurched as multicolored spots swam through his vision. Shit, those damned claws were poisoned! Desperately, his hands dug through his pockets for the smaller vials of antidote; he knew he'd picked up a few in his trek up the stairs. C'mon, c'mon…

Dodging almost drunkenly from a wild swing of those mangled claws, Dojima managed to swallow a dose of both the antidote and one of those healing gels Tatsumi swore by. It was a weird sensation to feel his own flesh stitch back together, but he had more important things to worry about. Like the fact he was nowhere near as invulnerable as he'd thought, particularly against Seitou.

Don't count us out yet . The fire he'd spent the last several months fighting began to stoke in his core. It'll burn energy a little faster, but that should make us a little more armored against those smoke hooks . Hikohohodemi's voice was snarling.

Dojima didn't have time question his persona's assertions. Dodging from another swing from Seitou's good left side, he ended up right in the path of a newly healed right set of claws. They screeched like nails on a chalkboard, shredding both the remnants of the grey dress shirt and the wire undershirt from Kirijo, but the black claws failed to break the skin underneath. The kanabo's swing wasn't so kind to Seitou.

Seitou changed tactics after that. Wind and ice buffeted his opponent, trying to find a weakness. Not anything that knock Dojima off his feet, but annoying (and draining) all the same. The detective responded with coming in fast and quick, the kanabo smashing in over and over, sometimes laced with the electric shock of Ryūjin, and sometimes molten hot with Hikohohodemi's temper.

CRACK!

His lungs screamed, everything ached, he was down to his last med kit and soul drop, but Dojima was pretty sure that he's was faring a whole lot better than his opponent. That last wallop of the kanabo had sent the convict flying; he hadn't moved once from the heap he'd landed in.

Nearly half the mirrors surrounding them were smashed, glass crunching under ruined dress shoes as they stepped cautiously forward. "Give it up, Seitou, you lost."

"Nev-er. I'm...not...going...back." Somehow, the words rang a little hollow when the figure they were coming from was currently in a fetal position. "You'll… have to kill me. Wouldn't that be hilarious? You'd be responsible for the next body to show up in the fog… no better than that snake of a partner you had! Hehe...he….heh."

"Not gonna happen, Seitou. Not everybody is as faithless as you." Damn, the kanabo was heavy in his hand.

"Oh, but they are, detective. How do you think I got into a place like this? People hide so much in their hearts. So many sins…." Dojima paused. Seitou sounded different.

"I'm only as bad as people wanted me to be! I did it all because people expected it! You think people want what's best, but no, they secretly know the world is full of shit. So I figured, when it offered, why not give them the shitty world everyone suspected everything to be. Let them know true madness. Then I would be their...Kiiiiiiinnnnggg…."

At the last word, Seitou's head snapped up to stare at his adversary. Those eyes… no pupils, they were like two solid gold orbs staring past Dojima, into the greater world.

Black, inky shadow dripped from that stupid crown, drowning Seitou's skin. A limb, then two jerked up, then forward, hauling the blackening body upwards, even as those gold eyes never left the detective. Claws lengthened and writhed, dancing upon still broken limbs as circular suckers, like those of a blue ringed octopus, sprouted up them. Black batlike wings opened behind him, sending another gale whipping past Dojima

THIS WORLD IS NOT WORTH SAVING. IT IS NOTHING BUT A THIN VENEER OF SANITY OVER AN EVER GROWING PILE OF SIN AND LOATHING.

That was definitely not Seitou's voice. It took effort just to keep standing, as the voice rattled inside one's skull.

I AM THE SHADOWS IN ALL MEN'S HEARTS. THE END THEY ALL SECRETLY DESIRE.

NYARLATHOTEP.

Notes: So... how about that high school basketball team? Yep, so I'm not original in the least. Bring back Philemon? Welp, gotta bring back Nyarlathotep too! I'm not 100% sure this where I was originally planning to go, but... well, there's something appropriate about bringing back Cthulhu mythos when we're dealing with the depravity found in the edges of society. His appearance here (since it changes game to game) is a mashup of SMT and his Persona appearances. Think... Somewhat human sockpuppet stuffed with octopi. Ewww. Feel free to tell me everything I'm doing wrong in the comments; WE'RE ALMOST DONE, BABY!