A/N: Gotta give a hand to my bro "The Clown King of Chaos" (who is known by many other names as well) for providing me with this idea and punching out the template for me to work off of. About 70% of this chapter was his doing, I only added to it and made some changes here and there.

I wasn't sure if I'd get this chapter out soon considering the news of my step brother passing away blindsided me out of nowhere while at work. We weren't close, but we always had a mutual respect and love for each other. He was a good man, was an aviator for a living. I wish I kept in touch with him more than I did.

RIP Teddy.

XXXXXX

The Red Room

After their treacherous descent down the swaying rope ladder, Minato and Benitsubasa finally reached the gathering of their companions. Minato's heart pounded with a sense of urgency, a relentless drumbeat of emotions propelling him forward. His feet thundered against the ground, each step resonating like a tempest, fueled by the overwhelming desire to be reunited with Kazehana. When their bodies collided, their embrace became an unyielding grip, as if their souls were intertwining in a sacred union, binding them together in an unbreakable bond only an Ashikabi and Sekirei would know.

Tears of relief shimmered in Minato's eyes, his voice trembling with emotion as he whispered, his words cracking with vulnerability, "I'm so glad you're okay."

A radiant smile blossomed on Kazehana's face, warm and ethereal as if she were a sunbeam breaking through the darkest clouds. Her eyes sparkled with a luminosity that mirrored the guiding stars that had led them through their perilous journey. "As am I, Minato," she replied, her voice imbued with warmth and a profound love that resonated deeply within his soul.

Meanwhile, Tsukiumi fought to summon even the faintest semblance of a smile, but her efforts were in vain. Instinctively, she recoiled, a sharp gasp escaping her lips, as searing pain shot through her thighs. The skin, once smooth and unblemished, now resembled a tortured landscape etched in red and black. Speckled about the injured appendages, grotesque blisters of varying sizes throbbed and leaked. The translucent membranes quivered with every tremor, like a captive flame yearning for release. Around it, the flesh had transformed into a charred wasteland, resembling the remnants of a forest ravaged by a merciless firestorm.

The branded flesh extended its tendrils, reaching outward like gnarled branches. Rivulets of red and raw flesh snaked their way across her legs, marking the path of devastation left behind by the flames. Each ridge and valley told a twisted tale.

Her scorched flesh screamed in agony with every movement, a relentless torment that she struggled to endure. Determination etched on her face, she pushed herself to rise to her feet once more, only to have her legs collapse beneath her like a stone dropping into a shallow pool.

"Tsukiumi!" the group yelled in alarm.

The Water Sekirei grimaced, her eyes wincing with pain, desperately trying to conceal her weakness but failing miserably. "I art fine," she hissed, her voice strained. "Givest me a moment..."

"We can't wait," Benitsubasa said bluntly, her words cutting through the heavy silence, directing everyone's attention to the ticking timer. "There's only forty-five minutes left."

A collective silence fell upon them, words caught in their throats, each of them grappling with the weight of the impending deadline.

Pausing briefly to catch her breath, Benitsubasa turned her gaze towards Minato. "You have one more norito left, pipsqueak," she said, her tone firm. "You know what needs to be done."

"Nay, I'll be fine!" Tsukiumi screeched, her voice laced with sizzling determination. She would brave this injury as she had all wounds which befell her. "That won't be necessary! Ahh!"

Minato knelt down gently, his palms tenderly resting on Tsukiumi's shoulders. Their eyes locked, conveying a depth of understanding and unspoken emotions. "Tsukiumi, I know you're strong and always try to conceal your vulnerabilities, but I need you at your very best now," he said, his voice filled with a mixture of earnestness and pleading. "We need you at your very best now. I'm not sure how, but when I winged Haihane, her injuries healed almost instantaneously. The same goes for when I kissed Matsu."

"He's right," Haihane added, her voice tinged with a sense of awe. "My nails were completely torn out of my fingertips, but they grew back once we performed the norito."

"Traitor." Benitsubasa deadpanned.

"But what about Musubi?" Tsukiumi's voice trembled, her eyes welling up with tears. "We still have to save her. Wouldst she not need it more when we reach her?"

Minato sighed, a mixture of weariness and determination etched on his face. "That's a possibility," he said, his voice heavy with the weight of their impending challenges. "But there's only her test that remains. Once I rescue her and remove this collar, we can all embrace freely without any restrictions." As he spoke, his face drew nearer to Tsukiumi's, their breaths intermingling. "We're almost at the end. Allow me to heal you."

Tsukiumi's eyes clamped shut, a mix of vulnerability and trust painted across her face. "I will say no more, then. I am yours, Minato. Now and forever."

With their understanding sealed, Minato closed the distance between them, his lips tenderly pressing against hers. As Tsukiumi's sapphire wings emerged, a breathtaking sight of ethereal beauty, the wounds beneath her knees shimmered and healed in a matter of moments. The final light on Minato's collar dimmed, signifying the completion of their healing bond and final respite.

XXXXXX

Gathering themselves at the door leading to the final game, a mutual nod passed between them, a silent agreement etched in their resolute expressions. And then, with a surge of determination, Benitsubasa's boot crashed into the door, sending it hurtling off its hinges, a symbol of their unwavering resolve.

Stepping inside, the group immediately began to cough and gag on the pungent metallic assault on their nostrils, mingling with the heavy stench of decay. The air was thick and suffocating as if it was tainted with the unspeakable horror that awaited them. The entire room was pulsed with an eerie crimson hue, much like the darkrooms a photographer would use to develop photographs.

The Billy doll's cackling infantile laughter taunted them as they surveyed the surroundings with disgusted fascination.

The narrow corridor may as well have been a butcher's abattoir, a grotesque tapestry of carnage. The crimson tide courses along the floor, pooling around severed limbs, and forming rivulets of gore. Each step is accompanied by a sickening squelch, the sound of crimson-stained footfalls leaving their mark on the battlefield of slaughter.

The walls, once adorned with pristine wallpaper, are now a grotesque canvas of horror. Handprints, smears, and splatters of blood mar their once innocent facade amongst all the body parts nailed to them by an array of cutlery. The patterns, like morbid Rorschach tests, scream tales of unimaginable suffering and violence. The ceiling, too, bears gruesome reminders of the terror that unfolded here. Gutted and dismembered corpses dangled above from meathooks and dripped with disease.

Amidst the blood-soaked carnage lie the dismembered remains of unfortunate souls, their lifeless bodies twisted and mangled in unflattering grotesque positions. Limbs torn asunder and strewn about like trash in a tornado, their jagged fractures sticking out at odd angles, as if mocking the concept of the life that once occupied their mutilated anatomies. Eyes, once windows to souls, now dull and vacant, stare into the void, forever frozen in silent screams.

The silence hangs heavily in the air, broken only by the occasional cough and pitter-patter of blood droplets.

Remaining resolute, Minato glimpsed off at a message smeared on a distant wall.

HE SEES US

Minato had so many questions. Who was 'he?' If he had to guess, most likely Jigsaw. But who was 'us?' If the writer had meant the victims of this grueling Game, 'you' would have sufficed.

"No shit," Benitsu said with a hostile dismissiveness. "I don't think the cameras are for show." She marched up to the doors and flung them open. No wire. No pressure pad. No anything except a light and something strange. "What the…?"

The room, not tall but very long and wide, was lined within like an overblown scrapbook. Tacked, taped, glued, and, in some cases, melted onto the heads of a series of more bare and filthy corpses. The dim red lights above made them rather endeavorous to observe. The same could not be said for the monitors, each playing what seemed to be a different short video with the brightness turned all the way up. It was as if they had stumbled upon a mosh pit frozen in time.

Homura followed her in, the rest of the unlikely group in tow. He looked at the photos at eye level. "Mathis always did like that camera of his."

Minato turned to him with utter confusion. "Who?"

"That's his name, the big guy. Mr. Mathis. Or at least, that's what Jigsaw says his name is."

Curiosity struck. "What does he look like, under the mask?"

Homura shrugged, "I don't know for sure. Only Chiho's seen him. She says he never seen a barber or a comb in his entire life."

With a gulp, Minato glanced around the piles of mangled and violated dead. Yukari had asked (rather, forced) him to watch far too many horror movies when they were children. And now, being literally surrounded by unmoving bodies… it made him shiver. Getting a hold of himself, he saw a picture that brought back the most bittersweet of memories. It was an image of Kuu, still in that glowing cocoon of hers back from the botanical gardens. His tearful nostalgia quickly turned to terror. "If… then… that was him? He found Kuu first?"

Something came to him. A rather odd memory; a Sekirei whose name none of them had ever bothered to learn, bleeding out in the botanical forest Kusano had accidentally made when first experiencing the real world…

Given the events that came not long after, Minato had always assumed that Uzume had done the deed. But now?

"And left her there." Were it not so unbecoming, Tsukiumi would have spit on the photograph. The beast in black was a sadist, clear as day, but this? She looked away from it, only to see a worse one. An overhead shot of Seo seizing her by the wrists with a predatory hunger in his eyes. That had been a horrifying moment, and now it was immortalized; Kramer's guard dog undoubtedly had it on a hard drive somewhere. His sadistic nature, which she had seen firsthand, would not allow it to be forgotten. "The beast knows no shame."

"How is he getting these shots?" Minato wondered as he observed a snapshot of Higa talking to Kakizaki. The slash mark over the former's face was not unnoticed. "He can't just be waiting on rooftops at all times. Unless he's got an insane amount of luck."

"He can move," Homura admitted, looking at an image of himself in his Guardian attire, clearly before he had kissed Minato. "And I mean really move."

"Is he a Sekirei?" Benitsubasa asked.

"I doubt it," Matsu answered. She turned her attention to a monitor that had a moving picture of her in what was obviously her room. "Did they hack into my monitors?"

She watched herself type away, a situation so normal for her, it was nigh impossible to tell just when the recording had taken playing, at least until she looked closer and realized just how haggard past Matsu looked. It had to be after the blackmail commenced. The suspicion was all but confirmed as a black-garbed arm reached out of the darkness and quickly covered her mouth. Her past self's eyes widened in shock as she was smothered, locking up in fear and losing consciousness. The other arm reached to something offscreen, and pulled back, with the Jinki she had stolen so long ago in its fingers.

"To this day, I have no idea how he snuck in there," Matsu admitted as the video looped back to it showing her alone, typing away.

"I'm starting to think Jigsaw's dog isn't so loyal. Or obedient," Homura murmured as he walked deeper into the cavernous chamber. Something caught his eye. A body with half its head split like a melon. Blinking for a moment, he brushed it off, until another armless stiff sitting on a wooden chair found its way into his vision. A gas mask was strapped over its maw. "Wait…" He wracked his memories for all those hours in Jigsaw's hideout. Images upon images came to his mind's eye. Seemingly mundane breakfasts. Going out to seize test subjects. All those gadgets… "I guess this one didn't work."

His Ashikabi spoke with a voice that had bottomless dread in every syllable. "I think this one did."

The Guardian glanced over… and paled. The carcass Minato directed him towards had its head blown away into smoking chunks and an all too familiar collar around its neck.

Not three meters away from them, Benitsu, unaware of just what had spooked them, was fuming. Right in front of her, stabbed into the eye socket of another victim, was the unmistakable image of her and Haihane getting flung into the night sky. "Just how long have these freaks been stalking us?!"

"Too long," Kazehana mused, looking at her and Uzume just standing there, below the bridge. Why had Jigsaw's dog not joined in on the slaughter? Him and that other freak in the ivory suit had just watched the show…

Tsukiumi glared at the image of her slumbering on her husband's hospital bed. Had the beast followed the ambulance to the hospital that night? And just how had he waltzed into the medical sanctum unnoticed?

On a table by the wall, under a particularly harsh light, was a tape player and a note. Minato walked over began to read the message.

"'Let me know when you've had enough,'" he read aloud. "'Say the word, and you and I can get out of here in one piece. M.M.'" The exact wording was not lost on him. 'You and I.' No room for anyone else in that lifeboat. Fighting the urge to rip apart the note, he reached for the audio device.

"M.M.?" Haihane repeated in confusion.

"Michael Mathis," Matsu verified.

Minato wondered just what he had done in a past life to make so many people want to kill him. A business heir with a chip on their shoulder. A serial killer with engineering ingenuity. A stalker who may as well have been a shadow. With a sigh, he pushed down the play button.

"Of course, Yukari." It was his mother's voice. But it sounded odd. It had hints of something he had never heard on her tongue. Hesitation.

"I'm glad to see you have faith in him." His sister, evidently far more firm of voice than the woman who had given birth to them. Were they talking about him?

The next voice filled him with icy dread. "No, you misunderstand. He'll be alright because he's going to chicken out and leave them all behind like the pathetic coward monkey he is." The Black Sekirei. Kuu's murderer. Mocking him even after all this time.

"SHUT YOUR FUCKING FACE!" Yukari's outburst made him wince and briefly hold the recorder at arm's length.

"Was it something I said?" Karasuba obviously had not been concerned with the heightened volume. "I'm only saying what everyone else is thinking here. I simply have the nerve to say it."

"I hate to say it, but Karasuba has a point. Minato was never one for heroics." His mother's words stung nearly as much as needles in the back. He had come so far in the damned Plan, and she still did not believe in him? "I'm doubtful he'll go through with it. Ninety percent certain in fact."

XXXXXX

Lawrence blinked at the screen with wide eyes. "He was taping that?!"

What else had Mathis documented? How big was his mound of incriminating dirt?

He started taking rapid pulls from his cigarette. He had always had a bad feeling about that gleeful sociopath John had brought home nearly two years ago. Seven hundred days of waiting, observing, obeying, and scheming…

XXXXXX

Would it never be enough for her? No matter what he did, no matter how fiercely he exerted himself, he was perpetually branded as second-rate—a pitiable failure. The seething anger within Minato reached its boiling point, consuming him like an inferno. In a tempest of rage, he flung the tape recorder across the room, the fury propelling it with unmatched force. His gaze fixated on the camera, a malicious glint dancing in his eyes as if daring his mother to look upon his unleashed wrath. "Hope you're watching, mom!" His arm shot up, the intensity of his fury transforming his middle finger into an emblem of bitter defiance, ascending as high as his taut muscles could strain, each fiber stretched to its limit, fueling his act of rebellion. "FUCK YOU!"

"This can wait, Minato!" Matsu reassured him, grabbing his arm and gently pulling it down. "You can disown your parent later."

"Right…" Minato seethed. Shaking his head to focus (but being careful not to disturb the collar), he refocused on the wall… and felt his heart sink into his legs. The photo before him felt far worse than being punched or stabbed or burned. It was him and Uzume… right after she had been stabbed clean through the back by Toyotama. "So… both of us watched her die, then."

He wanted to cry. He wanted to punch their stalker in his pig face. He wanted to hold Kuu in his arms and tell her everything was alright. He grabbed it and pulled it off, tape being no match for even his scrawny arms.

"There's something written on the back of it," Haihane noticed, though she was unable to read it.

That snapped him out of it. He blinked at her, and turned the photograph over and deciphered the brutal handwriting. "It's English. It says 'another loss.'"

An idea struck Matsu. She reached over and grabbed the photo closest to her, which, to Kazehana's dismay, was the one of her and Uzume playing spectator. The Mind Sekirei worked her magic. "This one says 'liars galore.'"

Hurtful, but accurate, the Third Sekirei thought.

Minato read another one on the back of a picture showing Mikogami claiming a Jinki. "'Unworthy.'"

Him and Seo talking after work. "'Backstabber.'"

One of Higa on his cellphone. "'Feed to Yakumo.' All in capital letters." He wondered who Yakumo was before going back to satisfying his curiosity.

Shiina facing down another Sekirei with a massive hammer. "'Lost cause.'"

Him holding an unconscious Musubi. "'Tomato can.' That… makes no sense to me." Judging by everyone's faces, they felt the same.

Higa and Kakizaki, lying at the bottom af a cistern with thick metal collars around their necks. "'Justice.'"

Two more were right on the door they came in through. And they were clearly taken mere minutes apart. One was Karasuba and Kuu looking at each other. With a shaking hand, Minato pulled it off the wall. Blinking away the tears, he turned it over. "'Innocent. Pointless loss.'"

No mockery? No snark? Maybe the monster was not completely heartless.

Seeing how her Ashikabi could hardly take anymore, Matsu took the other one showing a bloody Karasuba, moments after her face became mutilated in the rack of knives. "'Guilty. Passcode 20514.'"

Breathing heavily, Minato blinked back the tears and looked away to find the door… and saw something that would have been mundane to anyone else but made his entire innards run cold. It was his father (and he used the term as loosely as possible), sister, mother, and Chiho all looking at the camera whilst sitting in what was clearly a vehicle with the former behind the wheel. Jigsaw never let anyone go. Not without testing them (as far as he knew). His bloodline and Uzume's Ashikabi were in trouble. He grabbed the picture and turned it around.

"'Save them.'"

Several questions popped into his head, but before he could even begin to ponder on the first, he was pulled from his thoughts by a thud. A thud right next to him. With no small amount of trepidation, he turned his head to more chopped up human remains on the ground, head and arms detached from the body. In his peripheral vision, a black smudge demanded attention. He focused on it, and his voice died in his lungs. There standing amongst the diseased was one of the masked maniacs. Had he too escaped the blaze?

"Woah!"

It seemed he was not the only one to notice, because the next thing he knew, Benitsu was sprinting towards the goon, black knife out and ready to penetrate.

"Eat steel, motherfucker!" No sooner had she finished her crude declaration did she, and the blade, collide with her target. The tackle was enough to send them to the ground, the ebony slicer embedded deep between the eyes of the mask, and whoever was under it. Not wasting a moment, the Red Sekirei pulled the blade out and plunged it back down. Again and again, she added a new hole in her prey… until the adrenaline died down. "Wait…"

There was no blood, no resistance, no sound. With her free hand, she grabbed the tattered mask and pulled it off.

She had been stabbing a lifeless plastic sculpture.

Gritting her teeth, she tossed the mask aside. "I swear to every higher power, I am going to pound their heads in until they're red mochi."

Minato, seeing just what his new friend had been cutting, breathed with relief, only for paranoia to sink in. He read the passcode again and frantically punched it in. They didn't even realize the room had a puzzle to it until now, but they weren't complaining. "Let's go. Something knocked that first dummy over."

Given all they had been through up to that point, none disagreed with him.

Pushing the thick door open, the group found a short hallway turning to the left. With nowhere else to go, and no other choices to make, the human led the way in.

With a deep breath, the bastard firstborn of the Game Master trekked forward with the aliens in tow. Further and further they went into the abyss.

The narrowness of the hallway made a sense of claustrophobia slither into their heads. Subconsciously, they walked faster, wanting out more than ever.

"Tis becoming much colder the deeper we tread." Tsukiumi mused aloud.

Minato glanced at the ceiling for a moment to consider this, and his eyes widened upon seeing a message scrawled above.

Are you prepared?

After a brief pause to consider what may lay ahead, they continued to venture forward to the end until they reached two doors

All of them instantly noticed what was painted on it: 88.

"Musubi…" Minato thought out loud. Hanging in front of the door was a tape recorder, which he hastily swiped.

Everyone fell silent and gathered around as he hit the play button.

"Hello, the door leading to your final test is sealed shut. The only way for it to open is for the survivors amongst your flock to enter the open elevator on your left to play a game of their own while you face your own challenge. Once they're inside, they will be sealed in and ascend, and the path leading to Musubi and Natsuo will unlatch. They will not be permitted to exit until the collar around your neck is removed."

"Natsuo?!" Benitsubasa gasped.

Haihane hushed her as the tape recording concluded its message.

"You may take one of them to accompany you, and only one. Choose wisely."

"Just one?" Minato repeated, mouth now agape.

"This one's a no-brainer, pipsqueak," Benitsubasa said. "I'm going in there with you."

"Let me consider some things first…" he enunciated. "I know the choice seems obvious, but Jigsaw might be counting on us to not think it through completely."

"Minato, you're a sitting duck if you go in there with someone else." Benitsu pointed out. "I can use my abilities to protect you. They can't. And furthermore, my Ashikabi is in that room!" she glared back at the flock, their expressions of blank consideration. "And if any of you object to that I will throw down right here and now."

"Benitsu, don't say such things!" Minato hollered. "What if the real danger is wherever that elevator leads? What will protect them?"

"Thou will find no objection from me, Benitsu." Tsukiumi nodded, causing Minato to go 'huh?'. "Our Ashikabi is what matters."

"I completely agree." Matsu chimed in. "If any Sekirei should go with Minato, then it should be the one with access to their fighting abilities."

"Not to mention her Ashikabi is also in there." Kazehana bowed her head. "I can sympathize."

"I get that but I'm still concerned." Homura spoke up, "Her only obligation is her Ashikabi. If she saves him who says she won't leave Minato for dead?"

"Are you really questioning my loyalty?" Benitsubasa's face contorted with a mixture of rage and confusion "After all I've done for you guys since the beginning?! None of you will be alive if not for me watching Minato's back!"

"I get Homura's point," Haihane argued, "Especially considering she almost left me for dead when I woke up in this place."

"What you too?!"

"Let me finish," Haihane hushed her, "You were angry and scared then, but you still pulled through for me, someone you viewed as responsible for our Ashikabi being kidnapped." she addressed the others, "If Red was going to turn on Minato, she would have stuck to her decision to let me die when her temper got the better of her. She wouldn't have considered him at all if she wasn't trustworthy."

"Damn right." Benitsubasa boasted.

"Kazehana and I both saw that go down, so we can verify that." Matsu reassured Homura.

Homura shrugged, "...if you say so."

"Time's waning, comrades," Tsukiumi declared, her voice tinged with urgency. Her eyes, shimmering with determination, scanned the group, beckoning them to action. "We must no longer dilly dally."

Tsukiumi, her steps resolute, strode purposefully towards Minato, drawing the others in her wake. One by one, they closed the distance, their hearts brimming with hope and a shared sense of purpose. Embracing Minato tightly, their intertwined arms forged an unbreakable bond, as if their collective strength could transcend any obstacle. In this moment of temporary farewell, their gazes met, each pair filled with a fiery resolve that burned brighter than ever before.

As the group basked in the embrace, a mischievous spark flickered in Kazehana's eyes. Her arm slithered around Benitsubasa's waist, deftly drawing her into the tight-knit circle of unity. Benitsubasa, caught off guard, gasped in surprise, her annoyance momentarily forgotten in the presence of something she couldn't quite define. It was as if the touch of Kazehana's arm sent a jolt of electricity through her veins, stirring her dormant heart. Then she realized it wasn't her touch that triggered this, it was Minato.

Yelping softly, her face flushed with a mixture of confusion and embarrassment, Benitsubasa found herself unable to resist the pull of this unexpected connection. Though her lips curled into a pout, her rebellious spirit temporarily subdued, she allowed herself to be enveloped by the warmth of the embrace, her heart throbbing against her chest with newfound sensations. It was a bittersweet moment, where vulnerability and hidden desires intertwined, leaving her secretly craving for more.

Caught up in the tender exchange, Minato's concern shone through his eyes. He reached out to Benitsubasa, his voice filled with genuine care. "You okay, Beni?" he asked, his tone soft and comforting, as if he alone could decipher the enigmatic storm brewing within her.

"Yeah," she replied, her pout transforming into a wistful expression. Her gaze averted, her cheeks puffed with a mixture of frustration and longing. "And it's Benitsu..." Her words held a delicate hint of vulnerability, her insistence on her name serving as a quiet plea for understanding and acceptance.

XXXXXX

Soon after the tender moment, the flock filed into the elevator which beckoned.

"Goodbye for now, Minato." Matsu said, grabbing the door and preparing to pull it shut. She wanted to hear her Ashikabi one more time before doing so, as did everyone else.

Minato bobbed his chin. "Goodbye for now…"

The door lurched closed and the rusted locking mechanism sealed them inside. The door before Minato and Benitsubasa unlatched and creaked open as they heard them slowly ascend to their trial. With a shared glance, an unspoken understanding passing between them, the two figures stepped forward, crossing the threshold into the unknown without uttering a single word.

The Twisted Hexagon awaits…

XXXXXX

A/N: CK did a great job on this. So much so that I made it an interlude to the final game and gave it its own chapter title. Prepare for the onslaught next time.