It's pitch black. He can't see, but his eyes are wide open. His other senses remain unhindered at least. His hearing is intact, mostly. But what he hears is incoherent, incomprehensible. A muddled symphony of voices speaking in tongues, interspersed with the occasional blip of something resembling a word. Drowning each other out, there's screaming, mumbling, something that sounds vaguely like prayer, and screeching cries which shred his eardrums. Each voice overlaps, steadily building into a shrill crescendo which waxes and wanes every few moments. The cycle repeats. Over and over. He can't shut it out, nor see the origin of the commotion. He becomes unnerved by the realization that it's the same cacophony of voices repeating themselves. No one is leaving, and no one new has joined in.

Suddenly something metallic wafts through his nostrils and hits the back of his throat, a bitter taste, as though he'd stuck a coin in his mouth, seeps into his tongue. The scent is thick, nauseating, suffocating. He begins to feel sick, his throat constricts and he salivates, his body seemingly ready to purge itself. But there is no surge of bile rising through his throat. His mouth is dry, and he can't will anything, not even his own vomit, to come and wet his lips. It smells of flesh, raw open wounds that have been left to fester. He reaches out to touch the darkness around him, and the pads of his fingers make contact with something wet and viscous.

As he moves around in the void, pacing with no direction, nothing to demarcate one point from the other, a sudden searing pain tears through his abdomen. He's been shot, or stabbed. Maybe both. He reels, but when he attempts to stand another hot needle strikes through his skin and into his core. Another. And another. And as he's forced to the ground by the agony, his willpower alone no longer enough to force him upwards, he falls to his knees, coming to the horrific realization that he's not being riddled with anything. He's not being filled; he's having things ripped out of him. Through him. Piece by piece, whatever is in him is being torn out with no regard for precision. First through his torso, then through his limbs. With each piece that's removed, he feels weaker, hollower. As though he's having his organs removed, then his muscles, then his bones, causing him to gradually lose function. There's also something...intangible being taken. His heart is pulling itself from his chest. Just as the last chunk of shrapnel is pushed out, and he thinks he's been left to writhe with the excruciating, lingering burning, a sudden bolt of lightning strikes the center of his chest, leaving him completely breathless.

His body is shutting down. And though the greatest pain he's ever felt is cascading through him, he can summon neither tears nor groans. In vain, he tries to let out a visceral scream, a fleeting wail conjured from pure anguish. Something, anything to release the suffering. It sticks in his throat, and he remains silent, with not even a thud echoing as he collapses face first into the bottomless void.

Ren's eyes flutter open, his vision blurry at first, but slowly acclimating to the darkness he finds himself in. This time, there's some semblance of light. Barely. The natural glow of the sky is filtering in, but it hardly illuminates his surroundings. Judging by the indigo tone, it's early morning. He looks around for a clock, but as his eyes wander, he notices there's no artificial sources of light on. The air in the room is chilled, as though someone has left its window open, but it smells stale and dusty, as though it's been locked away from the outside world for some time.

As his senses become clearer and the anesthetic of sleep wears off, a dull ache pulses through his body, becoming increasingly difficult to ignore with each passing minute. He shifts, struggling at first to prop himself up on his elbows. Whatever he's lying on isn't very comfortable. It's too firm and stiff, and thin. The frame of the bed can be felt through the mattress, digging into his lower back as he awkwardly pushes himself up further. With a better view and range of motion, he scans the room he's in. Immediately the faint outlines of the machines next to his bed catch his attention. There's a heart rate monitor. He's in a hospital? Some sort of clinic? The screen is completely black, and there are no LEDs on or flashing anywhere on the console. It's still plugged into the wall. There must've been a power outage.

He notices an IV bag hanging near his bed, shoved close to the wall. His eyes follow the line down to his forearm, where it's hooked into his skin, and then retrace their path back up to the bag itself. Empty.

The door to the room he's in is wide open. He's lucid enough now, regained enough strength. He could get up and walk out of here.

Steady breathes briefly quicken, and then go completely silent, held tightly within his diaphragm. He tenses his stomach, then the entire body locks itself down. Movement from nearby. Nails scraping the tile flooring. A wheezing sputter, unlike any human sound he's heard, emanates from down the hall. As it gets closer, he can make out footsteps. Whatever it is isn't moving solely with its legs though.

He ducks down, lying as flat as he can, turning his head to his left to look as the source of the noises gallops by and comes to a halt near the doorway. Eyes wide, with beads of sweat dribbling down his face, he watches as the blurry silhouette contorts its head, sniffing at the air from all angles. It gnashes its teeth, and the sound of thick slobber pooling in its mouth, some splattering on the floor, can be heard. It turns to face into the room, slowly craning its neck past the threshold and inhaling deeply.

A flick of Ren's wrist and its attention is distracted, diverted from the room and towards the sound of the remote for the room's dead TV smashing against the floor outside. Hesitantly, the creature slowly saunters off, its easily displaced curiosity saving the raven-haired boy from a closer encounter.

He tries to get his breathing under control, and as deftly and quietly as possible heaves himself off the mattress. Bare feet are bit by the frigid vinyl as he steadies himself. Grabbing at the IV, he fumbles with it for a second before ripping the cannula from his arm, biting back the urge to let out a soft hiss. With as much stealth as he can maintain, he tiptoes past the door and out into the wall, clumsily exiting through open double doors, dipping behind the wall separating the wing where he'd been residing and the reception area. His joints and muscles ached, and the graceful and cat-like movements he'd once exhibited in the forays into palaces were gone, hindered by his body's apparent atrophy. Looking both ways repeatedly, cautiously peeking around the corner, he could see nor hear anything. It was now or never. With adrenaline surging and pushing him forward, he mustered every ounce of strength and speed he could, scampering out into the lobby and through the entrance, out into the eerie stillness of night.

He slowed his pace a bit once well clear of the building, weary of depleting any more of his limited reserves of energy too quickly. As he drags himself forward, he glances up into the sky. Neither a trace of stars nor the moon shining. Devoid of guiding light, save for the dark blue ether breaking through and neatly splitting the sea of onyx foliage into two sides. The limbs of the pines blurring together, creating jagged shadows like teeth, the forest eager to devour the exhausted teen. His feet trudge across the wide gravel road, the rocks digging into his soles and slicing him.

Stopping to rest, he bends over, his fingers digging into his knees, trying to fill his lungs. There's an ominous silence, a distinct lack of natural ambiance, only cut through by labored gasps which gradually even out.

The lingering stillness of the air brought by his recuperation is broken by the sound of a twig snapping from behind.

Before he can turn his body to face the direction of the noise, a series of grunts getting louder and louder follow, and then the distinct sound of teeth mashing.

A shrieking howl reverberates behind him.

On pure instinct, his legs carry him as though he's an Olympic sprinter. Whatever was inhibiting him before is gone, and no matter how cut up his feet get, or how ragged his breathing gets, there's no stopping. But the predator on his tail refuses to let its prey go. For just a second, he turns his head to look behind. The creature is running on all fours, and it's catching up.

He's being worn down, and the beast shows no sign of fatigue. 100 meters becomes 200, then 400. A thought of turning into the forest and taking his chances pops into his head. But the creature could be an agile climber. He doesn't need to give it more angles through which it can strike him. And while the dense vegetation might provide somewhere to hide, it could also provide convenient cover for ambush. He can't see in the dark, but it might be able to. So far it hasn't attempted to take a different approach, opting to use its apparently copious reserves of speed to simply run him down.

He looks over his shoulder momentarily and stumbles, tripping over a fallen trunk camouflaged by the dark. He manages to stay upright, but a limb stabs into his side, thick and sharp enough to rip through his shirt's fabric.

Hurdling over the debris he struggles to stick the landing, twisting his ankle. Teeth grit, fighting through the throbbing pain, this race is close to its finish, he knows. One way or another, there's no hope of winning through attrition. After multiple experiences of being backed into a corner, with seemingly no way out in sight, only to defy the odds again and again...it would be a truly ignominious end to become dinner for some B-tier horror movie monster. But this thing can't be shaken.

Rounding a turn on the trail, there's a break in the skyline, a concrete structure built into the side of a hill. Getting closer, it's some sort of service tunnel, though there is no road or train track through here. Having no other option, he charges into the abyss.

Sight is worthless here; another unlit place he finds himself in. This is nothing like navigating even the murkiest parts of Mementos. This labyrinth isn't nearly as complex, judging by how he hasn't ran into any dead ends or curves yet. But the tunnel is long and seemingly unending.

In the periphery of his eye, he notices a blue streak of light following beside him, keeping his pace. It disappears, the trail of light behind it gradually fading.

Does the creature have some kind of tracking ability? None of its grotesque sounds were audible, the only noise coming from Ren's own movements. Losing it only heightened his anxiety; had he just inadvertently trapped himself?

Slowing down, holding the need to gasp for air in as much as possible, he ventured deeper. As he fought the urge to faint, he gleamed a faint orange light glowing from a side passage. He followed it, traversing a narrow passageway until arriving at an open hole in the wall, and a small room with a brick doorway and dirt coating the walls and floor. It looks like a stereotypical torture chamber, except there are no shackles on the walls. There's a dimly lit, rusted lantern mounted on one side, and a small fire crackling in the center. Cobwebs line the corners of the ceiling.

The faint sound of squeaking and scurrying catches his attention, and as he looks up at the weathered, rotted walls, he sees what looks like a long, worm-like tail slither off into a crevice. Shuddering, he scans his dingy surroundings closer, and immediately becomes more unsettled.

Packed into the walls, within chipped away bricks and the mortar holding them together, are bones. Pieces of carcasses, belonging to various creatures, some he can't recognize, and whose skeletal structures defy what he knows of nature. On closer observation, there's a pile of remains sunk into the floor in the corner, partially covered by other waste. Horrified, a look of fear and disgust mires his face. The remains aren't just animal; there are a pair of human skulls lying atop the refuse.

He begins to back away, his heart once again pounding against the wall of his chest not from exertion but from primal fear. Before he can step back through the entrance and run, a flash of blue light explodes from down the passage. Footsteps draw nearer and nearer. He readies himself, steeling his nerves to make a valiant last stand. No more running. Even if it's the end, it won't be a coward's end.

Closer. Closer. Closer...

As he cocks his fist back to take the first, and likely final swing, the hunter turns the corner, revealing itself.

All at once his heart stops and he stumbles backwards, unprepared for what stands before him. The panic shooting coursing through dissipates, the adrenaline drains, and all tension falls when greeted by the unexpected visage of a young woman in blue.

"...Lavenza?"

He can't exactly place what it is, but she looks a little different, almost older. Her face appears mostly unchanged, perhaps having lost the slightest bit of roundness. In the poor lighting it's hard to tell, but it's undoubtedly her. The same long, flowing platinum hair. Still wearing her butterfly headband and that anachronistic French maid-like dress. A stray thought arises from his subconscious for a fleeting second, that in this moment she looks like an angel.

"Trickster. It really is you." She reaches a hand out hesitantly, as if to touch him, to confirm that he's not merely an illusion, despite the certainty of her words. He reaches out shakily to meet her hand, resting it on top of hers awkwardly for a moment causing her cheeks to flush slightly, before slowly pulling away.

"I-I almost socked you in the face. Why'd you sneak up on me?"

"My apologies. It wasn't my intention to scare you. I thought it would put you more at ease if I, what's the phrase, played it cool? I thought appearing right front of you out of thin air might cause you to experience shock. Is it not customary to approach those you haven't seen for some time nonchalantly, to avoid seeming too eager?"

"It's fine, I just...I was getting ready to fight for my life. I wasn't expecting to see a friendly face out here." Wherever here is.

"I'm overjoyed at our reunion as well. I was beginning to lose hope that we would meet again. Though here you are, and words can't express how fortunate I feel to be able to look upon you once more."

"Oh...well...I'm glad to see you too. Would've been nice if you'd dropped in earlier, but better late than never."

"I feel so ashamed. I've nearly failed you yet again, one who has done so much for me, who means so much to me. Even as I've desired to correct my mistakes, I was unable to find you. My ineptitude nearly cost you your life a second time. We've been searching everywhere for you, but..."

"Wait, hold on. What are you talking about? I meant..." "...'We'?"

A soft patter of paws on cement bounding towards them stops, and in the doorway, peeking from behind Lavenza's leg, is a tuxedo cat in a yellow collar.

"Joker?" The girl's furry companion walked closer, trying to verify what it was seeing. "Ren?"

"Morgana?"

"It is you! You-you look terrible. What happened?"

In all the exhaustion and shock he found it hard to come up with anything witty, though his reply was still laced with a trace of Joker's signature sarcasm. "Thanks. Almost died."

The girl in blue looks him over, noticing the gash along his ribcage. "Trickster, you're bleeding. Here, allow me to heal you."

She steps forward and gently places her hand on his side, a warmth cascades down throughout his oblique, and the sharp sting dies down. At this close proximity, she appears taller than before, her head reaching around the center of his chest. About as tall as Futaba, give or take.

Oh God. Futaba. A flood of disjointed, blurry images start to play within his head. Of Futaba, then of Ryuji, Ann, Yusuke, Makoto, Haru, and Kasumi. Something happened. No clear memory of what; it's too foggy and vague. But something feels wrong.

"Have the others been looking for me too?"

Lavenza and Morgana gave each other a worried look, hesitant to answer. Their silence caused his stomach to twist.

"Where are they?"

Morgana spoke first. "We don't know."

Lavenza elaborated. "When you and your companions went to confront the malevolent entity that had taken over the Velvet Room, you were defeated. A defeat I take responsibility for, both for my own inability to stop his plot, and for inadequately preparing you to face him."

"We were beating him...until we weren't. Aaugghh! I don't know how else to explain it. It's like momentum just shifted, and suddenly we-we weren't there anymore," Morgana added.

Ren processed this, attempting to keep his cool. "He must've removed us from existence. Like the first time. But then how are we here now? If he won, why am I still alive? And how do you two still exist? And does that mean...does that mean they're all alive too?"

"We don't know. That's what we've been trying to figure out. While we've been looking for you. Where'd you go?"

"What do you mean? I woke up about an hour ago in a deserted clinic. I guess I've been out for a few days." He turned to Lavenza. "Why didn't you call me to the Velvet Room? You could've found me that way, right?"

"I tried. I couldn't reach you. My master attempted to reach out to you multiple times. However, apparently even in sleep you were beyond our beckoning."

"So why are you here now? And how'd you find me?"

"I implored my master to allow me to leave the Velvet Room to search for you. Ordinarily, when a Trickster fails to reach their potential, or fails to defy the ruinous fate they face, we are not to intercede on their behalf. But the memories we made while I was split, the bond you and I share, my lo...admiration for you...I couldn't bring myself to accept what had happened. So, like my sister, I chose to defy norms and journey out into your world. Perhaps your rebellious spirit has rubbed off on me. As to how we finally managed to track you down, call it attendant's intuition. We are bonded to our guests, and though I couldn't watch over you as I normally would've, our bond transcends distance. I'm sure Morgana holds a similar affinity."

Ren digested this for a moment, almost at a loss for words. "I don't know what to say. That was sweet of you, to stick your neck out like that for me."

"Admittedly my master was much more accommodating than I had expected."

A brief silence took hold, until Morgana started his own questioning.

"You don't have any memories from before you got here?"

"No, none. I remember parts of fighting Yaldabaoth, and then I woke up in that building."

Morgana went wide-eyed. "Ren, you've been out a lot longer than a few days!"

"What? What do you mean?"

"It's been years since that fight! Or close to. It's been hard to keep track of exactly how long. But a lot of time has passed."

Stunned, the shaggy-haired man tried to reckon with this revelation. "Years?! How...?"

"You must've been incapacitated somehow. I got knocked out too. It's strange it took you this long to wake up though."

Grappling with this discovery and its implications, he decided that they'd need to have a much longer conversation soon, but shaking away his need for answers, he knew this wasn't the place to have it.

"Can we get out of here? I have a feeling we're overstaying our welcome."

Lavenza nodded. "Yes. We should leave this dingy, awful place."

Ren took a step and winced, his throbbing ankle now pounding incessantly. "Ow. Fuck me," he mumbled. He looked up at Lavenza, and turned pink, sheepish. "Sorry. I twisted my ankle. Could you give me a hand?"

"Of course. Give me a moment." She bent down and grasped his ankle, eliciting a sharp inhale. "There."

He leaned forward, putting his weight on it, and grimaced. "Must be worse than I thought."

She looked at it again, perplexed. "Strange. Well, I suppose you can lean on me."

He wrapped his arm around her shoulder daintily and leaned over, and she wrapped her arm around his side, keeping him propped against her.

"I'll be here for moral support. Good thing he's been dieting, he'll be easy to carry," Morgana said with a cheeky grin.

"Ugh..." Ren muttered. His stomach grumbled in agreement.

With a whisk of her hand, Lavenza summoned some sort of ethereal torch of blue flame, and together they walked out of the passage, through the rest of the tunnel, and out the other side.

The three made their way down the path, guided by the soft glow of the cerulean blaze. With Ren hobbled, they couldn't hurry through, though he tried as best as he could to ease the burden on Lavenza. Morgana followed closely on his right, scanning the woods with his superior night vision. Ren closed his eyes for a moment, buoyed by his attendant's support. The young woman glanced up at him as his head slouched, causing her to giggle.

"You poor humans. It must get tiresome always needing rest, even at the most inopportune moments."

"Ughhh, don't rub it in. I need a bed, now."

"Hehe heow." Morgana laughed. "For once you actually want to sleep. But now you can't. Serves you right for all that complaining."

"Shut it brat cat," Ren lazily bit back with a smirk.

"Trickster, you never did tell us how you ended up in that tunnel."

"I got chased by some sort of creature. When I woke up, it was wandering the building I was laid up in. It almost came into my room; it sounded like it was looking for a midnight snack. So I distracted it and hightailed out, but it followed. I couldn't find any other way to shake it, so I dipped into the tunnel as a last resort."

"Why'd you decide to take the long road, instead of going east? It's a shorter walk to town that way."

"I was disoriented, and scared. It's dark. I barely had time to open my eyes before I had to get out. And I have no idea where we even are. How was I supposed to know what route to take?"

"You forgot to use your third eye Joker! A Phantom Thief should always be scanning their surroundings, looking for what's hidden in plain sight."

Ren had no retort, the mention of their group stirring up a mix of difficult emotions and thoughts within.

"That thing that was after you is just lucky Lady Lavenza and I weren't there; it wouldn't have stood a chance."

"AAAAHHHRRRRAAAAAAAGGGHHH"

A howl, not from any canine, bellowed from through the trees. Ren recognized it as the guttural, disgusting cry from earlier, but deeper and rasping. Morgana's fur stood on end, his tail puffing up. Lavenza stopped, grabbing tightly on to Ren's waist, placing herself slightly in front of him, as if to guard him.

"Sounds like you'll get the chance to prove it."

A single howl became multiple synchronizing together in a blood-curdling harmony. Springing out from the sea of timber and confronting the trio were three of the beasts. Circling them, sniffing the air, the stench of nervous sweat arose- at least from Ren and Morgana. Now at such a close distance, and with Lavenza's light revealing their form, Ren could make out more of their anatomy. They were almost ape-like, but smaller, closer to an adult human. One was taller and bulkier than the others and had strips of patchy red fur down its limbs. Each was hunched over, walking on all fours, revealing jagged spines nearly protruding out from under the ashen, cracked skin of their backs. What unsettled him most though, were their faces. Their features were flat and barely defined. They had wide slits for mouths, narrow slits for noses, and faintly glowing blood red eyes without irises or visible sclera. No ears, and hairless except for the larger one, the leader of the pack.

A standoff ensued, the creatures moving coming in closer then backing away, possibly gauging the fortitude of their prospective victims. Suddenly, the dance was over, and the alpha creature charged, its family close behind.

Lavenza shielded Ren with her arm. "Morgana, you're up!"

"Alright! One for each of us! Zorro!"

A furious burst of wind struck the pack, buffeting them and knocking the two on the leader's flanks to the ground. They quickly sprung back up, however, and leapt towards Ren, who narrowly avoided the rush, just spry enough to dodge them and force them to collide into each other but splitting him and Lavenza. The creatures stepped back again, reassessing.

Morgana saw their hesitance. "Your turn Joker!"

Like a dear in headlights, he was utterly stunned and unable to react, his brain disconnected to his body.

"Joker! Use your persona!"

"R-right. Arsène!"

But the summons went unheeded.

"Arsène!" No response. "Damn it. Why can't I...?"

Sensing an opening, the three monsters converged, their teeth bared and ready to rip Ren's body apart. Lavenza stepped between them, shoving Joker back, as a large book manifested from thin air into her arms. Its pages turned, and a large golden-haired, dark-skinned demon with long horns and several scarlet wings appeared. The once blank sky became littered with falling stars, descending into a large beam that struck the ground and exploded in a sphere of blinding light. Morgana and Ren shielded their eyes, shutting them tightly as the intensity threatened to burn their retinas.

When they dared to open them, they were greeted by the aftermath of Lavenza's power. Hardly anything remained of their attackers; only ashes and the lingering stench of burnt flesh. They'd been completely vaporized. A smoldering crater was left where they'd began their charge.

Morgana looked mortified. "...That might've been a bit overkill."

Lavenza brushed a stray lock of hair behind her ear, and the Grimoire faded from her grip. "I just wanted to be thorough. It's better to be safe than sorry, is that not the phrase?"

Morgana became indignant. "You could've told us to duck and cover! Haven't you ever heard the term 'danger close'?!"

"I'm not familiar with it."

"Well look it up!"

"Don't get snippy with me, I saved your asses!"

"You almost fried us!"

Lavenza pouted, sneakily sticking her tongue out at the cat as he turned away. She started to raise the middle digit of her left hand, until Morgana turned back around. She quickly lowered it and placed her arms behind her back, feigning innocence.

"Phew," Morgana sighed, relieved. "At least we're all ok; right Joker? Joker? HEY! JOKER!"

"Trickster, are you alright?"

"...Why? ...Why couldn't I call him?" The shaggy-haired teen looked up from the ground, focusing his attention on Morgana. "You just summoned your persona...but you're in cat, uh, reality form. We're in reality, right? Since when have we been able to do that?"

Morgana and Lavenza glanced at each other again, either communicating telepathically, or waiting for the other to explain.

"We're not sure." They answered simultaneously.

"Yaldabaoth melded the Metaverse with the real world, remember? I have a hunch that that has something to do with it," Morgana posited.

"In all honesty, I'm not certain you were unable to before. It seems the rules vary based on the nature of persona users' connections to the collective unconsciousness. My siblings may know more, but I'm afraid it's not something I've ever thought to ask about."

Ren sighed. "If I can't use mine it doesn't make much difference ...I'm sorry guys. I don't know what's wrong."

Morgana jumped up on to Lavenza's shoulder. "Hey, don't worry about it. We managed fine regardless. Lady Lavenza hogged the spotlight this time, so next time we'll be sure to show her up. It's a good thing she's so strong though- she'll have no trouble carrying both of us home," Morgana chuckled smugly, earning a golden glare in return.

A harsh wind blew through the trees surrounding the recently abandoned farmhouse, sweeping through the open shoji panels and sending a shiver down Ren's body. Lavenza got up and slid them shut, trying to insulate the exhausted boy from further exposure to the elements. He'd already been out in the winter air long enough to make him vulnerable to catching one of those colds that humans were always so frightened of getting. With great haste, she procured another blanket and laid it on him, the warmth easing the chattering of his teeth. When she was satisfied that he'd be sufficiently protected from the cold, she leapt over the futon gracefully, and sat on her knees next to him.

"Are you comfortable?"

Ren's eyes flickered between closed and half open, the lure of sleep becoming more difficult to resist with each second that passed.

"Mmhm. Thank you Lavenza," he replied, groggily.

The girl smiled warmly in return.

With grace of his own, Morgana jumped down from the windowsill and scurried over to the bed, curling up next to his protege, resting his soft, furry face against the teen's.

With a yawn, Ren turned on his side brought his hand up to scratch behind the cat's ears. "This is a nice house. How'd you guys find it? You didn't run the owners out, right?"

"Of course not! We've been in the area for a few weeks. People have been fleeing these rural areas and moving closer to the cities, leaving their homes behind. But the national and local governments have been restricting movement, and some have placed quotas on how many are allowed in; the ones that still have enough control to exercise their authority anyway. So a lot of people have ended up stranded in smaller towns around the prefecture, trying to get their hands on entry visas."

"Why are they leaving?"

"Those monsters we ran into are probably part of it. We haven't encountered them before tonight, but when we were in town there were a lot of rumored sightings. They've been lurking near small communities, probably because it's easier to sneak around and isolate targets with less people. That's what I was able to gather anyway. I think they're just a symptom of something bigger."

Fighting off drowsiness and losing, he could no longer summon the energy needed to ask for more information. He was tapped out, still nursing his wounded ankle, his cut up feet, and most painful of all, his wounded pride.

"Thank you, guys. For not giving up on me. I'm sorry I wasn't much help. I feel like I can't stop failing the people who put their trust in me."

"That's what we're here for. To pick each other up when we fall. Remember when I first met you? I taught you all the ins and outs of thievery. You were my big investment. You picked up on things so quickly. You have the uncanny ability to make connections with others, people with their own skills and talents. To lead them and give them the courage to act. And with all those talents, you were going to help me find out about my past. I felt lost, unsure of what I was or why I was there with you. What my purpose was."

Ren smiled, melancholic. "You were the best van we could've asked for. Plush seating, plenty of leg room, four-wheel drive. Hey, that makes me wonder, can you still...?"

"That's not what I meant! And no! ...At least I don't think...that's not what we're talking about!"

The cat shook away his frustration and continued. "Anyway, I found my purpose. I'm not only a personification of humanity's hope. I'm your partner. A part of you, just as you're a part of me. Wherever you walk in this world, I'll be beside you, I'll follow you down whatever roads you travel. And no matter what challenges we face along the way, I know you'll always have my back, just like I have yours."

Ren laid there silently, eyes open and fully present, staring up at the ceiling.

"Ren." Now Lavenza spoke.

"When first we met, I was not myself. Or perhaps it's more accurate to say I wasn't fully conscious of myself or my true purpose. I was half blind, unable to see the full picture in front of me, in front of us. Yet, as we spent more and more time together, experiencing the many intriguing creations and facets of humanity, my eyes were gradually opened to the depths of human connections and how easily you formed and maintained those bonds. And when you bested us in combat, it was the most euphoric feeling I'd ever experienced. Both parts of me came to recognize the incredible power within you and the sincerity and intention you wielded it with. To have met a man like you, someone so strong and valiant, yet also so gentle and kind..."

She stopped herself, feeling her face grow hot once again. But in the dim light of the bedroom, neither of its other inhabitants saw her cheeks turn rosy.

"... Ahem. The strong feelings they held for you, that I hold for you, need no further elaboration. When I look upon you, I still see what I saw then: humanity's savior. Even now, after ruin has befallen the world, I see within you humanity's potential. A beacon in the sea of despair and anguish that now washes over this reality. I believe in the wild card's potential. I believe in you; my faith is in you. I will assist you in every way I can. To atone for my own failures, and to right the wrongs inflicted on others. And if you're so gracious as to allow me to, I will walk the same path you and Morgana walk."

Taking in his friends' words, a growing resolve chipped away at his doubt. It was a small crack in the uncertainty and gloom that had come to grip him over his short time back in the world. But their trust in him, misplaced though he felt it might've been, was not merely pretty words intended to assuage him and relieve him of his guilt. It had been shown through actions, time and time again.

In the ether of the mind, far away from the borders of consciousness, a voice beyond waking perception recited a set of words that sealed the trio's pact. It was not of the young woman in blue this time, however. This time, the whimsical voice of the master of the Velvet Room himself spoke:

"I am thou, thou art I

Thou hast turned a vow into a blood oath

Thy bonds shall become the seeds of redemption

and bring life to the desolate wastes of thy world

In reaffirming thy bonds, thou hast reawakened to the ultimate secrets of the Magician and Strength,

which shall light the path to salvation..."

"Whatever the future may hold, you cannot dwell on what has already happened. As difficult as it may be, we must pick up the pieces of this broken reality and press forward. In doing so, we may not only uncover the truth behind what has occurred but prevent further calamities from coming to pass. That is how I feel."

Morgana nodded. "It's what they'd want us to do. Right before we confronted Yaldabaoth, you reminded all of us of our own strengths. You brought us back from the edge, when we were doubting everything we'd done, everything we were, everything each of us was fighting for. We could've surrendered to our doubts and fears. It was you who inspired us and picked us up when we were at our lowest."

Morgana stood, brimming with newfound conviction.

"I don't know if there's a still a place in this world for the Phantom Thieves. But there's one thing I'm sure of; it's now our job to keep the group's legacy alive. If we do that, we'll make more allies, and gather more information that might lead us to them. So let's do it for them, and for everybody who needs our help!"

"Agreed." Lavenza echoed.

Ren looked at both of them, the faintest smile curling the corners of his lips.

Morgana lied down. "That's probably enough sappiness for tonight though. You should get to sleep. You've had a long day, even if it was only a few hours long."

Ren hummed in agreement and shut his eyes. Within minutes, he had dozed off. Morgana peeked his head up to look at Lavenza, who watched the steady rise and fall of the young man's chest intently.

"Did you want me to take first shift for night watch?"

"That's alright. As you know, sleep isn't a necessity for me. You two rest, I'll watch over you."

"Goodnight Lady Lavenza."

"Goodnight Morgana."

A familiar tune filled the air, one mournful and melancholic, calming yet unsettling, ethereal yet earthly. The product of a piano, strings, and brass. A woman's voice rang out in vocalise, the symphony of sounds touching every corner of the room in uniform volume, crisp and near, yet also faint and far.

Ren's eyes shot open, a familiar ceiling greeting him. But as he sat up in a familiar bed and took the room in, it was no longer familiar at all. The cell he was in wasn't much of a cell now. Only the concrete walls remained, the doors devoid of any bars. There was no toilet, no chains. He was unshackled, and the familiar tattered prison clothes he'd once grown accustomed to were gone, replaced by his normal sleep attire.

Stepping out into the circular space, he saw something familiar, an antique wooden desk, behind which a familiar, long-nosed man sat.

"Welcome to the Velvet Room."

Ren stood quietly.

"This place exists between dream and reality, mind and matter. It is a room that only those bound by a contract may enter."

Ren opened his mouth slightly, but before he could speak, the man answered the question that had gone unspoken.

"But then, you already knew that, didn't you?"

"Hello Igor."

"I am happy to see you again. I was unsure if I'd ever have the opportunity to welcome you back."

"I guess I've been on vacation, sort of."

"And a long one indeed. But far from basking in the lap of luxury, you have been forced to lie still, while the world around you has continued to move."

"What happened while I was asleep?"

"Countless things, as always. Though you are not yet privy to the consequences of it, you are aware of the fate that consumed the world." It was a statement, not a question.

"I've been trying to figure out exactly what that entailed."

Igor simply sat quietly, smiling at him. Ren's eyes wandered, curious about all the unfamiliar features of the room.

"What happened to the prison?"

Looming over Igor's desk in the center of the room was a large tree, growing through an opening in the roof. The center section of the classical dome he stood under was glass, and he could see the long arms of the tree stretching out into the smog filled sky. Its limbs were mostly barren, and what few leaves remained were wilted and brown. Its bark was rotting and blackened, as though it'd been burnt. The deciduous plant's roots ran through the floor, each connected to several sections where empty cells had once been. Sparse pockets of dying foliage occupied each of these areas, dotting plots of yellowed grass and dry soil.

"The form of the Velvet Room reflects the state of a guest's heart. You are no longer a prisoner of fate; no more so than any other at least. Though remnants of your time as one may remain. It appears you are a keeper of this garden, one where life struggles to bloom. Quite fitting for the predicament you find yourself in."

"How so?"

"Humanity's desire for ruin has created a world inhospitable to the righteous and rebellious. Though chaos spreads, it is not liberating, but enslaving. The basest impulses and fears of man govern this new reality. A world born of terror, begetting terror. Drought and famine, of more things than just the tangible."

Ren looked despondent. "So Yaldabaoth really did succeed."

"Ah, but did he? In remaking the world, perhaps. But in the desired form? Perhaps not."

"How do I fix it? Can I fix it?"

"You will discover the answer to that of your own accord, in due time."

A gale blew through, pushing Ren away. It subsided, but he could sense that the conversation had run its course. Short and cryptic, as was typical of conversing with the residents of this place. But, at the very least some of his suspicions had been essentially confirmed. And Morgana had been right; he had fallen into some sort of indefinite stasis. Comatose, maybe.

"...It's time for me to go back, isn't it?"

"It appears so. But before we part, I will tell you something I've told few others before. You are among the select few to have nearly harnessed the full power of the Wild Card who have not succeeded in averting ruin."

Ouch.

"..."

"It is no shame, nor is insult intended. So remarkable are you, that fate has given you another opportunity. It's quite marvelous. As befitting of a guest such as yourself, you have been forced into a truly unjust existence. Yet even as doubt and uncertainty plague you, you do not succumb to apathy, and ready yourself for the struggle that awaits. It is this which draws others to you and gives you, and them, strength. Continue to harness this strength. It will be invaluable to you."

Another, more forceful burst of wind came through, nearly pushing Ren out through the glowing door in the back of his former cell.

"I'm afraid our time together must end, for now. But we will meet again soon."

"I'll be looking forward to it!" Ren called back.

"As will I. 'Til we meet again."

Waking with a start, Ren found himself in another dark room, though the warmth of the blankets and Morgana's body against his cheek quickly quelled his initial panic. It wasn't usually the case that visits to the Velvet Room ended with him up at night. Generally he slept the whole way through, his body rested but his mind in varying states of discombobulation. Now that he was alert, he could hear the hushed mumbling of a girl to his left, at first quiet and incoherent, but then becoming increasingly loud and distressed.

"No...no...I'm being split...please...help me...please..."

Ren turned to face the source of the noise, coming face to face with his attendant. Her eyes were clenched shut, her brow furrowed. She had fallen asleep at his side, but hadn't thought to join them under the covers, instead lying on the periphery of the futon without a blanket. Feeling a sudden pressure on his hand that had been resting above his head on the pillow, he glanced up, to find Lavenza's gloved fingers netted with his own, digging into the flesh. Though the force wasn't enough to break skin, her grip was strong, and she was nearly cutting off the circulation. An idea popped into his head, one which he wasn't totally comfortable with enacting.

With his free hand, he carefully lifted the blanket and spread it over her. Placing his hand against her back, he began to slowly rub it. Regardless of whether it calmed her down or woke her up, he could free himself from the chokehold she had on his digits. But he was startled when she not only quieted down, her whimpering dying in her throat and then subsiding, but wrapped herself around him and buried her face in his chest. Though their hands were still intertwined, her talon-like grasp had loosened, allowing Ren to breathe a sigh of relief.

Turning to lie on his back, slowly so as not to disturb his sleeping companions, he allowed the warmth of the cat cuddled next to his head and the girl nuzzled against his chest to wash over him, lulling him back into slumber.