Okay, so I'm posting this at the same time as the previous chapter, so don't forget to check out the first chapter of this new story. Hope you enjoy...

40 THIEVES? I JUST NEED ONE WIZARD (REVISED)

CHAPTER 2:

NOVELTY IN A DRY WORLD

Eventually, Futaba said to Sojiro, "You may go now, Sojiro."

"Are you certain, my Pharaoh?" Sojiro asked, his expression one of concern.

"Yes. I am the Ruler of this Palace. I am in little danger from him should he wish to become hostile, and I do not think he will. He is wary, confused, and seeking answers, but not truly hostile. He has more to fear from me than I do from him, and I do not wish to give him any reason to do so. He is fully healed, though?"

"He's weakened, my Pharaoh, but the healing spells I used on him should have negated the effects of heatstroke, as well as the strain of existing within this Palace. Perhaps some refreshments?"

"Thank you, Sojiro," Futaba said with a nod and a small smile. As the older man left, Futaba looked away. "He's a good man. Far too good for the likes of me."

"So, is he like your father or grandfather in reality? I mean, assuming this is a mental world and all," Harry said.

"He is my legal guardian in reality," Futaba said. "Perhaps the only person my other self trusts to any real degree, after my mother died. But even then, she keeps him at arm's length. Born as I am from her repressed emotions and desires, I am somewhat closer to his Cognition, but even then, our relationship is a little more professional. I am his Pharaoh, and he is my servant and advisor. It's not a desirable state of affairs, but a Palace is part-allegory."

"…Okay, I have to admit, I'm a little at sea here," Harry said, his confusion returning, and some of his panic with it. "I get that we're in a mental world, born from warped desires, though you don't seem that warped. But what I don't get is what you are."

Futaba stared at him impassively, before sighing. "It's too much to ask that you know much about Freudian or Jungian psychology. You're what, about my age? Fourteen? Fifteen?"

"Fifteen turning sixteen in a month or so," Harry said. "I was born on July 31st, but it was June 18th when I ended up here."

Futaba looked at him sharply. "…June 18th? But the date in reality is the 3rd of April, 2016."

Harry felt something drop out from beneath his feet, like the trapdoor on a gallows. 2016? That was impossible, it had to be. "No…" he murmured. "It's 1996, not 2016! No, I…I…"

The Pharaoh watched Harry as he began to panic. Leaving aside the impossibility of what he was claiming, he seemed to be in a genuine panic. He was swaying on his feet, breathing heavily.

Futaba was not that socially-competent a person. The Pharaoh knew that she had been diagnosed with Asperger's Syndrome, at least before the DSM-IV became the DSM-V and ditched Asperger's Syndrome as a separate condition on the autistic spectrum. But while they may not express emotions and empathy in different manners, alongside their social issues, it didn't mean they lacked empathy or emotion.

The Pharaoh may seem impassive and emotionless as well, but that was due to the depression afflicting her other self. She didn't quite have the same degree of extreme social anxiety her other self did, born as she was of the things the original Futaba repressed. She could see something similar to what happened when those men in black suits read out her mother's suicide note, and they and her so-called relatives not only did nothing to comfort her, they actually blamed her, tearing her apart emotionally. Sojiro hadn't been there, he couldn't help her, so nobody did.

But Harry needed someone. And she was the only one here. And she wouldn't stand by as someone went through something like she did.

Despite being shorter than him, she carefully embraced him, preventing him from collapsing outright. Like how Wakaba did when Futaba had been truly distressed. Quietly, she said, "It's the truth. Maybe you're a time-traveller. Maybe you are a slider, a traveller from a parallel timeline. But that is the reality of the situation." Then, almost as an afterthought, she added, "I'm sorry."

He seemed about to push her away, tensing in her embrace, but then he subsided. His breathing seemed somewhere between a laboured gasp of panic and a sob. "God, I hope it's me being a slider or whatever you call it. Though…did that term come from a TV show? I think it started about a year before…before…"

"Yes, March 1995," the Pharaoh said. "I'm more of a fan of Stargate SG-1, though(1). Look…if it helps…why not talk to me about what led to you coming here? I'm curious as to what happened, and how you can use magic without a Persona."

After a moment, Harry gently broke free of her embrace, sighing. He looked like he was on the verge of a breakdown. "It's…it's a bit of a long story."

"I am sure. But please, tell me it…"

It felt like a catharsis, a confession. During that time, Futaba sat on her stone throne, or rather, squatted on it, her feet on the seat. Sojiro came in partway through with a couple of cups of coffee and curry, of all things, with modern cutlery, nothing that looked remotely like they came out of Ancient Egypt. He had to admit, the curry tasted good, and he was famished, though he did check it with a spell of Mad-Eye Moody's.

As he spoke and ate, he kept an eye on Futaba. She seemed on first blush to be mostly impassive, but even leaving aside the times when she smiled or showed other overt expressions, there were times when you could see things even when she seemed to be keeping a poker face on. And despite the sinister air this impassive expression and her warped voice gave her, he also got the feeling of loneliness from her. The fact that she had hugged him when he was about to lose himself to panic helped further the impression that, despite her vaguely sinister appearance, she seemed to mean well.

After giving her the abridged version of his life, Futaba stared at him in her impassive manner, before nodding. "I see. Assuming you are telling me the truth, I think you may be more likely to be a slider than a time-traveller. I say this because I cannot think of any events in the late 1990s in Britain that could be considered part of a war waged by Voldemort, who, incidentally, sounds like a chuunibyou to me."

"…A what?"

"…Edgelord?" Futaba ventured. "No? Well, what about wannabe?"

Harry stared at her. "You're calling Voldemort a wannabe. What."

"He calls himself a name that is basically an anagram of a rather ordinary birthname, he has his followers get tacky tattoos, and he acts like some cartoon supervillain," Futaba said flatly. "He's trying WAY too hard to seem like some all-powerful evil wizard. Don't get me wrong, I'm not mocking you and what you went through, I'm mocking HIM."

"He is dangerous, Futaba."

"I'm sure. But he also sounds ridiculous. My point is, if you're lucky, you can find a way home, though I can't help you there myself. To be honest, I'm not sure how you can emerge from this Palace into normal reality." She waved at her holographic screen, and it changed to show the desert around them. "My Palace is surrounded by a desert because I wish to isolate myself from others. My other self is a shut-in, a hermit, what the Japanese call a hikikomori. Any exit to reality is probably out there…and you nearly died from heatstroke walking here. However, I will try to help you, Harry. If nothing else, I can try to give you shelter and food until you are rescued."

"…But if I'm in a mental world, will it still feed me?"

"Yes. You are in a realm where imagination and reality fuse. However, it is not a realm humans should remain for long normally, as it is taxing. As you are not my enemy, the effects should be lessened, and can be leavened, but it still exists. Though your innate magic may have helped. And to think, you don't have a Persona."

"Yes, you've mentioned that a few times, you and those Shadows. But what is a Persona?"

"…You wouldn't know Jungian psychology. Well, a Persona is a form of familiar born from your own mind and heart. We present masks to the world to hide aspects of our true selves, to shield us from reality, the personas normally found in Jungian psychology. In certain circumstances, like within a Palace, in a moment of crisis, you confront your own nature, and thus give rise to a Persona. You must've been too exhausted to use one while fighting those Shadows. In many regards, a Persona is the same as your own Shadow Self, the parts of you you often don't wish to acknowledge. Calling upon one for the first time is taxing. Personas allow you to wield magic within Cognitive Worlds such as this one."

"…Okay," Harry said. He wasn't quite sure he fully understood.

"I'm guessing you never read the manga or watched the old OVAs of JoJo's Bizarre Adventure, otherwise, I could just say they were basically Stands," Futaba said. "Yare yare daze…"

Assuming he had been telling the truth, and it seemed so absurd, it was hard to credit it as being a complete lie…Harry had been through a lot. True, so had Futaba, the Pharaoh knew: between a friendless background due to her intelligence and lack of social skills (even driving away the one friend she had in Kana), and her mother's suicide, Futaba had been through a LOT. It's why this Palace existed.

But Harry…he had been through a lot. Some of them sounded like fun adventures, but other things? He hinted that the Dursleys had done more than simply treat him badly, reminding her of her own cruel relatives, especially Uncle Youji. There was that nasty teacher, Snape, to say nothing of his own government tearing his reputation to shreds. If the British Ministry of Magic existed in this world, and had any computer systems, the Pharaoh would already be trying her utmost to have her other self shut it down with the DDoS attack to end all DDoS attacks, enough to leave their mainframes melted piles of scrap from overheating.

He was strong, she realised. Far stronger than she was. He never knew his parents, was probably abused by his relatives, his fame was fickle and bipolar, as was his luck, he'd fought against a deadly giant snake, soul-eating demons, his warlock nemesis, and a fuchsia-wearing bureaucrat who was apparently part-toad…and he was still somewhat sane. Scarred, yes, damaged, yes…but he fought on, fought through what happened, for what he thought was right.

When was the last time Futaba, either one, had done so? Aside from a few fleabitings in her post-Medjed hacktivist career as Alibaba?

The revelation could have come as a blow to the Pharaoh. But despite her being the hidden parts of a traumatised teenaged shut-in's psyche, she simply accepted it with a zen that her caretaker in reality would be proud of. In fact, Harry's arrival gave her a little bloom of that most terrible of feelings, that of hope.

She hopped off her throne, and approached Harry. "Until we can find a way to return you to reality, or even to your own timeline, please stay as my guest. I…my other self is a lonely girl, partly by choice, but also because of her nature and experiences. You are something novel, a breath of fresh air in this dry, desolate world. You may be able to change things for the better. What happens to me influences my other self, and vice versa. Your influence on me may help her. In addition, I will keep my forces on the lookout for Sirius Black. This Palace is vast, especially in the desert. However, I do ask that you do not wander anywhere without myself or an escort."

"…Why?"

The Pharaoh nibbled her lip briefly, before deciding to be honest. "Despite this Palace being formed from my other self's psyche, I am not the most powerful entity in it. Usually, a Palace's Ruler is, but in my case…there is something else. It sleeps for now, but every now and then, it rouses, with a terrible wrath that destroys all in its path. A Cognition rather than a Shadow. I will explain later, when I tell you my own story. But for now, I would rather relax. So, I am curious, Harry Potter…what shows have you watched?"

In another Palace, one like a gargantuan, garish and glittering casino, another Ruler was dealing with another interloper. The Ruler appeared to be a young woman, in a black, leathery cocktail dress, her golden eyes enhanced by heavy eyeliner. She would have been beautiful, albeit in a stern way, without the make-up, her silvery hair swept to one side of elegant features.

She'd had the interloper, who had been in a bad way, brought to her, and she soon had him healed. Even now, as he regained consciousness, she was tending to him surprisingly gently, despite her appearance. In her sanctum, she was quietly speaking to him.

"…They don't understand the way the world works," she said quietly, even with her voice warping and flanging. "That things are rigged against you from the very start, and the only way to succeed is to be the one rigging the game. It's rotten, I know, but…I like to think I'm doing it to deserving."

Her companion offered no response, not verbally. But he gave her a look. The woman sighed. "I've come too far. I'm doing this for my sister's sake. I…sometimes I hate her, for the freedom she has. When she works so hard, she'll be able to choose what she wants, whereas I'm stuck as this. But…once she's gone, maybe I can be more myself. We can both be free to be who we really are."

The Shadow of Sae Nijima looked down at the dog whose fur she was stroking gently, and gave a bitter smile. "I'm not one for taking in strays. I think I'll let you loose. Just don't linger, or I'll have you sent to the pound. And you know what happens there. Snip-snip." To further hammer home her point, she turned her fingers into pretend scissors.

The big black dog she was petting seemed to get the hint, nodding hurriedly. "Good boy. Too good for me," she said. "Come along, let's get you out of here…"

CHAPTER 2 ANNOTATIONS:

So, Harry and Shadow Futaba have had a bonding session…and is that Sirius in Sae Nijima's Palace? Oh dear.

I decided to refer to Shadow Futaba as the Pharaoh when writing from her viewpoint, simply because 'Shadow Futaba' doesn't sound right, at least coming from herself. She knows she is as real as her other self, so she thinks of herself as the Pharaoh to distinguish herself from her other self. And it's not out of arrogance either, she knows she is a puppet Ruler, with Wakaba's Cognition being the true power in that Palace.

She's also accepted Harry's story quickly because firstly, it's a bit outlandish to be a lie, secondly, Futaba secretly yearns for fantasy and science fiction to be real, and thirdly, she can sense his desperation.

As for how Sae's Shadow acts, she might seem OOC, but keep in mind, all she is seeing is Sirius in his Animagus form. In addition, this is Sae several months prior to the Phantom Thieves entering her Palace, before she became obsessed with catching them. Her mind and thus her Shadow isn't quite as pathological yet. And Sae on some level seems to hate what she's become. Even when she attacks Makoto with the infamous 'useless' speech, the moment it happens, she is guilty. And this chapter takes place a couple of months or so before that incident, so while Sae has a Palace, her Shadow isn't quite so bad. Plus, I haven't actually played that Palace yet (still going through Okumura's as of writing), so that's part of it.

Now, Shadow Sae doesn't consciously know she is a Shadow, but unlike Shadow Futaba (ironically), she knows how to eject people from her Palace, so Sirius will be emerging into reality soon.

There'll be a bit of a timeskip with the next chapter.

1. This was partly due to Futaba's Palace being heavily based on Stargate SG-1 in Persona 5: Daywatch by Ganheim. I thought I'd run with that.