There... there was a lot of revision of this chapter. If I didn't do this one, I never would've done any of them.


Death finds it hard to understand why they resist.

It's not as if they can win. It's not a fight anyone can win.

The question lingers, repeating incessantly as the battle commenced.

"Why go on when your master is dead?" Death thinks, grabbing Cerberus by one of its heads. It's easy to toss the persona around like a ragdoll, and might've made for a mildly amusing weapon had the damage not forced its owner to recall it.

Replacing the persona in his hand was a whip wrapping around his wrist. Death follows the weapon to its owner, Artemesia.

"Why dedicate your life atoning for the deeds of the dead?"

What was likely meant to be a restraint instead proved to be the persona's undoing. Rotating his wrist to gain a firm grip on the whip, Death gives a sharp tug.

His blade cuts through her like butter, bisecting her and forcing the persona to retreat instantly. Shame, he expected a persona from such a strong woman to last longer.

Two more coming for him. Caesar and Kala-Nemi.

"Death comes for all, so why try to save others from it?"

Separating the duo comes easily.

Dozens of spots of black began to appear. Spots were the only words to describe them, beginning as nothing more than dark orbs began they began swirling around in an umbral vortex.

Out of the black came chains, some digging into the ground or walls of the closest structure, others seemingly linking with other chains or retreating to another of the black vortexes.

The result was a web of chains, restricting movement for the personas and proving too intricate for a swift escape.

Death tilts his head at the young boy's persona. "You both dedicate your lives to the ones you lost. How are you so alike, yet so different?"

The answer mattered not. He was a threat like the rest of them; an obstacle keeping them apart, and that is beyond forgiveness.

It wasn't hard; the chains were already wrapped around them. The web took a life of its own, tightening its grip and crushing its prey. The personas let out shrieks of pain, fighting back against the web until the inevitable occurs.

Strange. Their resolve is so strong, yet the pain was so great most of them were already on the ground in pain. When do intentions stop mattering? When does the pain become too much for them all to bear?

Through the web and broken shards of the personas came a stray arrow through the tiniest gaps and strikes Death directly in his chest. The force of the attack catches Death by surprise and his feet drag on the ground until the friction brings him to a halt.

The web dissipates, giving Death a clear view of his attacker. Of course, how could he forget? Subdue the healer first, keeping the rest vulnerable—or rather, ensuring their interruptions cease.

The girl trembles, clutching her weapon tightly. She fears him, yet still brings herself to fight. Where does the line separating foolishness and bravery begin and end, he wonders. She had her answers; she knew what her father had done. So why was Yukari still fighting him? What was there to gain?

The answer didn't matter. She was a threat that needs to be removed, especially before she can help her teammates recover.

A few quick steps are all it takes. Death raises his sword, bringing it down—

A loud metallic clang rings through the air.

A familiar sensation reverberates through his weapon. The power that doesn't belong to her; power that she's stolen and perverted to her own use.

"Chernobog," Death noted. She was resorting to old personas and tactics now?

Before he could do anything further, Death feels a stabbing pain in his back. He looks to see Kotone with her naginata in her hands, pushing it further in and twisting the blade, and drawing out hisses of pain.

"Kotone…" he says her name like a curse. Was this the pain he felt when he tortured himself because of her? Fitting that she would inflict the same on him.

Death felt something inside him changing.

His mind was overcome with a deep blackness. An unnatural emptiness, devoid of thought. Within the darkness he sees Kotone glaring back at him, and the black began changing. Pools of red began spilling onto the floor, spreading and coating the black.

Tracing back to its source, he can see Minato, bleeding himself like a pig after seeing her—her and the confusing thoughts she kept putting in his head! Replacing the black was the blood he watched his friend spill, and all with her in its center, glaring back at the one who was forced to put his broken friend together piece by piece.

"All of this because of you."


The sounds of screeching tires.

The smell of burning flesh.

The feeling Hot metal.

The sight of bright yellow flames dancing with the black smoke.

The taste of blood in his mouth after the crash.

All of his senses were overloading. Minato clutches his head, feeling all the memories stabbing and tearing at him. The pain is so severe that his legs can only manage a slow, awkward gait.

The world around him is distorted by static, both in what he saw and what he heard. With every step, the distortions grew in strength as did the pain. The chill in the air sending him further and further back to that fateful day.

Minato collapses on his knees from the pain, trying to block out the memories forcing their way back. Always block it out; never think about it. Never welcome the memories back, no matter what.

There were days when the memories were stubborn, always at the back of his mind no matter how deeply he tried to bury, but never like this. They never fought so hard before, and the world around him never served as twisted reminders.

It's a room with no doors. A prison made only of walls and a roof. A hell with no escape. All his time running away has left him helpless and fatigued, unable to defend himself. The demons he spent his life trying to escape have finally caught up with him, allowing them to inflict their sadistic manifestations upon him.

The perverse torture was a slow but certain death. Even now, he can feel the cold sweet embrace of death from within himself. It's so tempting to just let go. Leave all the pain behind him forever. Let the demons win now before they claim their victory in a pool of his blood.

"Brother!"

But he had given in once. The first time he ran, he let someone else's blood pay the price and to do the same now would ensure the lives of others would be paid in his stead once more.

"You're killing yourself…" the voice is strained. He didn't need to see the phantasm to know she was looking away, unable to see him in this state.

"I am," he admits, forcing himself back up. His body screams at him, the mental stress becoming physical. "But if I stop now, I'll be killing you all over again."

"Brother…" Minako calls out to him in a breathless whisper.

One step, then two, and then a third. He stumbles but recovers his balance. "The last person I killed was fighting to keep his only family alive."

He looks up at the path ahead and sees the phantom again. Unlike before, she's flashing a proud smile at him. "I guess you're just like him now, aren't you?"

"Yeah," Minato scoffs. "I guess I am..."

The silence lingers, broken only by the sounds of his footsteps and the battle ahead. Not much further now until he has to face his old friend again. All he has to do now is follow the cold at the center of the phantom flames.


Kotone listens to the demon hiss as she plunges her naginata into it, pushing in as deeply as possible and twisting the blade. It howls in pain as its wound leaks a faint black mist.

The hisses lower, transforming into groveling growls. The creature turns back at her, eyeing her like a hawk would a rabbit. "Kotone…"

Her instincts have her moving before she recognizes the threat. Leaping back, she narrowly avoids its bare hand slamming and crushing everything that was where she had been a moment before.

When she looks up, Kotone realizes her mistake. That attack wasn't the one meant to kill her. That honor was being reserved to the sword she sees cutting through the air, leaving only enough time for her to close her eyes, awaiting her demise.

Another howl of pain. Opening her eyes she sees Death clutching its hand—no, there is no hand, only a stump leaking more of the black mist. Behind her, she sees Junpei, frozen stiff with his Evoker pointing at his head and panting heavily.

This doesn't stun Death for long, his attention almost instantly returning its attention back to the subject of its anger. No amount of pain was going to stop it from tearing her apart for getting in its way.

"Attis!" Kotone calls out, summoning the persona. Attis swipes a hand, drawing a blinding light attacking the creature, sending it back with its feet dragging on the ground.

"Yukari," she called out to her friend, "help everyone you can right now! Junpei, keep her safe." She raises her naginata once more, "It wants me. It can have me."

"What?!" Yukari exclaims, persona already summoned and an arrow nocked, "you can be—"

Before Kotone could respond, a screech pieces their ears forcing everyone to cover their ears. The creature in front of them was nothing more than an animal roaring and hissing in anger and pain.

"No time!" Kotone shoots down any more last-minute objections, rushing forward to meet the beast with her Evoker in hand.

Even losing a limb wasn't enough to stop Death. Through hagged breaths, it push through the coursing pain it felt. To it, any amount of pain is worth it if it means ending her.

"Heh..." Kotone found it funny in a way. All of this over a madman that tore the heart she gave him and threw it back at her. And here she is, fighting his monster.

She guesses she can't help it. No matter what he does, the heart wants what it wants. Kotone smiles without realizing it. Whether she likes it or not, she is in love with that madman.

Death launches itself at her like a rabid animal, relying on the brute force of his remaining arm.

Kotone dodges to the side, moving her naginata in a sweeping motion. The blade cuts into Death's torso with ease, bleeding more of the black mist.

There's no visible apparent response to the injury. Death continues glaring at her like a hawk undeterred before throwing itself at her again.

There is no intelligence behind these strikes. There is no restraint. There is only unrestrained rage.

Even with one arm, the strikes came as fast as they were strong. The ground beneath them crumbles and cracks as if crying out in pain. A pain too great for it to continue supporting her, giving out beneath her feet and letting her fall.

The creature leaps at the opportunity to finally deliver the final blow. Clutching her Evoker, Kotone desperately pulls the trigger.

Chernobog returns, one hand on the blade of his sword. Death's fist connects with the weapon, still harboring enough force to repel the persona back and make its user hiss in pain.

It refuses to relent. Death charges again at the persona that points its blade at it, but Death didn't care. It gladly allowed the sword to impale its body as that gave it the luxury of getting close. It was only a matter of grabbing the persona's head and squeezing.

But something went wrong. As it crushed the persona beneath its grasp, it began to change. Suddenly, Death feels a piercing pain throughout its body.

Chernobog was gone. Replacing him was Orochi, whose snake heads wrapped around its body, sinking its fangs into its body. The more it moved, the tighter the snakes squeezed.

Restrained.

Trapped.

Helpless.

"No…" Death hisses. Never again. It would never allow itself to be helpless and bear witness to his friend's suffering again.

Death shrieks and more of the dark portals appeared once more, bringing back more of the chains. The chains pierce through the snake's flesh whose bite strengthens in return. But the chains were unending, painfully grasping more and more of the reptile and pulled.

The pain was too great. The bites weaken, allowing Death to tear itself free, leaving long and painful trails where the fangs had been. The chains didn't stop, pulling until the snake's flesh could endure no more, ripping and tearing apart before disappearing.

Death had thought the persona recalled, only to be met with another strike from a blade. The sword slashes through the air, and Death barely has time to notice it before it strikes its head.

A metallic clang echoes. Death's jaw flies through the air, immediately beginning to disintegrate into a black mist.

Orochi has given way to Gabriel. God's messenger presses the advantage, thrusting her blade after her surprise attack.

Another gash deep into the shoulder of Death's missing arm. Death cries out, grabbing the blade with its bare hand, leaving a faint trail of black mist.

With the sword secured in its hand, Death rammed its fist straight into the messenger's face. The force repels her back, bringing her sword with it and slicing its hand. The moment of weakness was all it needed.

Orbs of black surrounded the persona, oscillating rapidly. The orbs explode, giving way to more of the darkness as inhuman laughter fills the air. A rush of pain floods through Kotone's system, bringing her down to her knees.

The laughter doesn't stop. Despite this, there's no glee present—no joy. It sounded almost empty. It was more akin to a desperate laugh from stress than derangement or sadism.

Kotone looks up to see Death almost dragging itself towards her. Despite its injuries, the creature shows little sign of inconvenience.

So what was happening to it?

"You…" a bitter hiss calls out to her. It raises its fist. "Why you?! "

Kotone closes her eyes.

What reaches her first was not the instrument of her demise but instead another cry of pain. She opens her eyes to see Death hunched over, a large slash across its back. She's almost in disbelief at who her savior is.

" Again," Death hissed, already knowing his assailant. It turns quickly, glaring at Junpei. "You should have left when you took my arm."

Junpei gulps. "Y-Yeah," he admits, voice shaky, "probably."

"I… I would've..." Death would have let him go. Despite everything and however brief, he was his friend as Ryoji… wasn't he?

Junpei, another friend choosing Kotone. Everyone chooses her. Why does everything always leave for her?!

Incoherent rantings and roars fill the air. Kotone can only watch as Death begins stomping on the ground, striking at the air around it. The closest comparison she can draw is that of a child throwing a tantrum.

A commanding voice pierces through Death's incomprehensible tirade. "Yukari, now!"

"On it!" Yukari summons Isis to join her senior's persona.

Artemisia summons innumerable crystals of ice, launching them with the assistance of Isis' winds granting them more velocity.

Death doesn't recognize the danger until the first of the crystals hit. One after another, it feels them pierce and tear through its body.

It tries shielding itself with its hand in vain, only being forced back until pillars of ice were erected beneath it, impaling its body in several points.

Death howls, screaming out as it attempts to break free. Too late did it realize the attack was meant to maim and restrain, not to kill. Death feels the electricity from Caesar coursing through it, causing agony so great that the convulsion allows it to break free of its restraints.

Too much.

It's all too much.

Pain.

Betrayal.

Abandonment.

There's no resistance when Cyberus' jaws sink into it, much like Orochi had done. All of this to allow Kala-Nemi to attack, sending a phantom spear to pierce through Death's body.

There's nothing but more of the black mist. Not even a cry of agony.

For the first time, Kotone finds herself hesitating. It's not even resisting anymore, and the almost pleading look it's giving her...

"Kotone!"

"Here's your chance!"

Her teammate's urging snaps her from her daze. Attis returns and with a stationary target, it's easy to attack with more of the blinding light. It earns more agonizing screeches. Screeches that send a chill down Kotone's spine.

When the light recedes, Death remains having fallen on its knees.

Death remains unmoving for several moments. The black mist begins to take shape; from its gaseous form, it took the shape of a first. Gradually, the black begins to take color, becoming the same shade of white as the rest of the appendage.

When the hand was done, the mist continued. Within the newly formed hand, its lost sword reforges itself; starting with the handle within its hand, and ending with the tip of the blade.

"Kotone," it speaks her name once more. "Do you know what I have been forced to witness? Why it is that I hurt him so—something I agonize over at this very moment?"

Death doesn't wait for an answer. It stands back on its feet, almost appearing to have grown larger without hunching over. The coffins hang lower than before, almost dragging on the floor.

"He was conflicted over you for so long. Consider it a blessing you never saw it yourself," Death says, sounding melancholy, his jawless face making the monster appear surprisingly vulnerable. "I have watched him gouge out his own eyes over you, stopping only when he slips in a pool of his own blood."

"Wha—" Kotone's words die when the memories of the day she caught him bleeding himself. He told her that he hated her. That he felt like nothing—something that exists instead of living.

She wants to deny what Death is saying. But she remembers his words to her that day. Her stomach tightens, nausea building when she pictures Minato torturing himself because of her.

"I'll never forgive myself for what I have done to him," its voice going lower, its threatening aura returning, "but I would do it again. I would do everything again if it meant I never had to see him tear himself apart again because of you !"

Death takes a step forward and his body begins to contort. Twisting and spasming erratically, Death continues as a large bulge began to form at its back, threatening to burst with every spasm. A black flame spread throughout his sword, changing to resemble a large broadsword.

Kotone felt a dull pressure at the pit of her stomach build, only growing in intensity as her friends recovered. Accompanying the contortions were sickening snaps. Death's body is changing shape, becoming larger and more svelte with the legs resembling twigs and the coffins now taking the shape of a skirt.

It doesn't take her long to recognize the shape, resembling more and more the form it took when she fought it before. But now there were no restraints; no Makoto to help or any of the humanity he had inside.

The creature in front of her was Death.

All of the sudden, it was over.

The contortions ceased, the transformation left incomplete as Death remained still as a statue.

"The hell?" Junpei took a step back, somehow becoming more unnerved at the creature ceasing any movement.

"It… stopped?" Yukari expressed the same confusion.

Fuuka, however, was deep in concentration with her persona. "Wait," she called out to others, "Someone's approaching!"

Everyone, SEES and Death alike turned towards the figure in question, watching it almost limping its way towards them.

"Is that…" Mitsuru trails off. There was only one person it could be; the only one capable of bringing even Death to a pause. "Arisato..."


Minato continues with heavy feet, clutching his head as the sight before him shifts. Death and Kotone stand before him awestruck before static overtakes them, replacing their images with a Ghostly form grinning beside burning wreckage.

The memory sends a pain stab throughout his system. The sudden pain draining whatever strength remained, his legs giving out beneath him.

Kotone rushes past Death, not caring how the creature may react. Whatever harm may come, she wasn't about to let that creature have him again.

Her friends call out to her, but their cries fall on deaf ears. Kotone left him alone in his apartment where she let him get tortured, and again at the dorm when she almost lost him; she wasn't going to leave him again.

Death remains motionless. Shock? Confusion? His inhuman form gave no answers, only silently watching the girl dropping her weapon and wrapping her arms around the bluenette, catching him when he almost fell to his knees.

Kotone's grip is firm with welcoming warmth, supporting him and stopping him from hitting the hard floor. He forgot how much he missed this.

She gives him a tight squeeze. "Not again. Never again." she repeats to herself like a mantra "I'm not letting go. I'm never letting you go." He feels her crying on his shoulder, terrified yet relieved. It was hard to believe they were still fighting yesterday.

She pulls back, beaming at him for only a moment before scowling back at Death, still standing motionless.

"Minato," Death spoke. All hostility, the guttural growls, hisses, and intensity were gone. In its place a deep yet meek voice, "why are you here? You're not well."

Minato scoffs, trying to stand only for Kotone's grip to bring him to a halt—unwilling to let him any closer. "I don't think I've been well for a long time, have I?"

"Leave," which should be an order sounds instead like a desperate plea. "I won't take long."

Minato shakes his head, rising from the dirt despite Kotone's non-verbal protests. Still, she stands in front of him—protecting him.

"I can't do that, Pharos."

There's a long pause.

Death doesn't speak, only gazing silently at the boy. His head begins turning as if in thought before rapidly shaking. "No… no… you… you can't. You can't do this. Not again. You can't betray me again!"

He doesn't understand. He can't understand. He did everything he thought was right. He did everything he could for him. It doesn't make sense! They were each other's world—the only things they had! How could he throw it all away?

"I'm sorry."

"No, no!" the growl returns, and his attention is focused on Kotone once more. Sword in hand, he's ready to attack.

SEES' and Kotone's response is immediate, summoning their personas and ready to continuing their battle. But before they could, Death cried "You did this! You did this to him! He would never—"

Minato doesn't give his old friend time to finish. "You already killed my family once, Pharos!"

The reminder stuns Death back into silence. His great sin—the one he spent the past ten years trying to atone for. The tension in the air remains, personas still summoned and one wrong word away from a bloodbath.

"Pharos, please," Minato begs, metaphorically reaching out his hand. "Don't do this. Seeing this? I keep seeing you from back then. I'm still seeing it. And I can't let you kill my family again."

Death takes a step back, still shaking his head.

He tries and tries to comprehend what he's hearing. Trying to understand how this could happen—what it is that is happening.

Death drops his sword, a swirling blackness swallowing him. The sword disappears as the blackness begins molding, taking the familiar shape of Ryoji.

His body and expression is human again, his face now betraying an expression that could only be described as heartbroken. "I… I thought I… That we…"

"Pharos…" Tears. There were tears streaming down his face. He's cried before, always when he failed. But never like this. Never out of pain.

Kotone can only watch as the monster pours his heart out. None of it was a lie, she realizes. Everything he claimed; everything he ever did was all for him.

Despite everything he did, he truly did love Minato.

And now he's asking him to stop. To leave the person that caused a wedge to be formed between them.

He's choosing her over him. He's cutting him loose. She's the reason that he's staring at him like the monster he was ten years ago.

It's unforgivable. Ryoji would do anything in the world for Minato Arisato, but not this. He couldn't forgive the thing that drove them apart.

Yet… Minato loves her.

"Thirty-first," Ryoji says, sounding almost ashamed of his words. "I'm sorry. That's all I can give you. You have until the thirty-first—the next full moon."

"Pharos…"

"I can't," Ryoji breaks out into a scream. "Not her. Anyone but her. I can't. I want to but..."

It's not something he can describe. It's not something he is supposed to be able to describe. Everything he feels is things that were never meant for a being such as him, borrowed and corrupted by Minato Arisato and Makoto Yuki.

He shouldn't feel what he does. He shouldn't be in this type of pain. Everything happening simply isn't meant to happen.

Ryoji's form turns translucent, fading away like he had done for so many years as Pharos. Before he disappears completely, he locks eyes with Kotone.

"What did I do wrong?"

Then he was gone. Even Fuuka using her persona is unable to find him. He'll keep his word though; Minato still trusts him enough to believe him.

From the corners of his mind, Minato heard a faint whisper. A whisper of regret that things happened how they did and sadness that could only be caused by a painful betrayal.

"Pharos…"


I normally wouldn't do this, but a particular review hit me a little too hard. If you have a valid criticism, go ahead. If you dislike the story, I understand. But for fuck's sake, is it too much to have the decency to not call someone worthless or to say "don't insert your worthlessness."

I'm already mentally depressed and prone to extremely low moods where that's what I tell myself all day, I don't need you to rub salt in the wound. Guys, authors are people. Don't resort to personal attacks because you don't like something.