Disclaimer:

I do not own the story and the concepts represented in the fiction written. This fiction and all Persona related fictions belong to Atlus, the fantastic company that created the games.

Author's Note:

This chapter was both fun and frustrating at the same time to write. I completed it about two weeks ago but couldn't find the drive to post it for some reason. It is easily my favorite for this story so far. I hope you guys enjoy it.

Comments to Reviews:

Erelia: Thanks, I'm almost happy to receive your reviews. Your enthusiasm for my story really motivates me!

KingPlotBunny: Aha! You should be worried. Also, I can't wait to write about the Kaneshiro segment and Makoto's involvement in the story. It's one of my favorite parts of the game!

Before

6/1

The descent into madness is never the result of a single event but multiple tragic occurrences. It is the steady decline of a person's resolve and rationality. Like an invisible monster, it claws into a person's mind, sucking away at the individual's hope and possibilities. And, in the end, the scars it leaves are never curable.

X

Everything was going according to plan. That worried Joker as he and the rest of the Phantom Thieves sped down the halls of Madarame's palace, the treasure in hand. They ran until arriving at the courtyard. There the group circled Morgana as he laid the treasure, a painting, and removed the cloth over it.

"THIS is the treasure?" Skull bellowed in confusion.

It wasn't, Joker wanted to point out, and they had been duped. Staring back at the Phantom Thieves was a smiling face even Joker – with his lack of artistic ability – could create. Behind the thieves, a pool of darkness formed, and the shadow of Madarame appeared with two shadows disguised as security guards.

Skull raised his bat at the shadows. "So, you had a fake prepped!"

"Counterfeits are acceptable in the art world," the shadow of Madarame said coolly.

"What happened to make you change like this?" Fox demanded. "Was it fame? Did your desire for material possessions and attention lead you so astray!?"

Madarame's shadow smiled and beckoned one of the security guards at his side forward. The shadow complied, reaching behind its back and producing another painting – the real treasure.

"M-mom," Fox whimpered, staring at the new painting in awe.

"Mom?" Panther repeated.

Madarame's shadow chuckled. "Aw, just like your mother, you share a powerful intuition. Good. Saves me from having to explain."

"Explain what?" Fox demanded.

With little regard, Madarame's shadow plucked the painting – the real Sayuri – from his lackey. "About your mother. About how I watched her during her final moments, visually shaking from her seizure, and then took her painting for myself."

"What…?" There was an edge to Fox's tone, a sharpness to his gaze as the shadow of Madarame continued to speak.

"What are you talking about?"

"Yusuke," said the shadow in a dejected tone, "I watched your mother die." The shadow allowed the statement to hang in the air, to pollute the oxygen around the thieves. A cruel smile stretched across its pale lips. "Just to steal her final painting, a painting of you – for you, and reap the benefits."

Fox, visually shaken, was murmuring so quietly that his words were almost mute. Unless calmed, he'd lunge carelessly at the shadow.

"Yusuke," said the shadow, "I watched your mother die and did nothing."

Fox's self-control fizzled to nothingness, and before anyone could stop him, he charged. And, just as quickly, the shadow of Madarame changed, morphing into four abstract portraits of a face. A painting of the shadow's eye deflected Fox's katana while the other eye smacked him with enough force to send him flying back.

The time was now, Joker decided. He sprang into action, barking orders for Morgana to check on Fox and for Panther and Skull to provide backup as Joker led their assault. Joker knew it would be a hard battle, but they would win because they always won.

They always won.

Morgana was the first. One of the paintings, immune to physical attacks, shrugged off a strike from Zorro and crushed the proud feline.

They always won.

Panther was next. So distraught and baffled about Morgana's death, she didn't react when the painting of the shadow's mouth inched closer, then barred its teeth and – chomp!

It was unbelievable – the sight. One second, Panther was there – whole – the next, her torso was missing. In the heat of battle, it was difficult to say where the blood ended and the remains of her red latex catsuit began.

They always won.

Skull's persona rained down every physical and electrical skill it possessed. In his rage, two of the painting positioned themselves at either side of him and then crushed him like a mosquito.

They always won.

Perhaps Fox, as Madarame's pupil, was spared from a similar fate. Joker didn't know. Numb from his injuries, the stench of blood and fluids, and the pitiful sight of his friends' bodies, he felt nothing when something struck him sharply on the base of his head. The pain didn't even register.

Have they always won?

O

Akira rose from the hard bed with a jolt to stare at a glowing blue door. Awareness came to him swiftly and without warning. Slowly, he turned his head and body around to the familiar sight of his prison cell, Igor's two assistants, and Igor himself. As always, the residents of the Velvet Room were like statues.

The thought of interacting with them crossed his mind, to banter with the twins or check up on whatever new persona they wanted to be created, but Akira quickly dismissed the idea. He had to prioritize.

When had he entered the Velvet Room, and how long had he been out?

Why did he enter the room?

His mind was a mess. A dense fog clouded his thoughts, preventing him from grasping any memories explaining his current predicament. However, if he tried, he could recall entering Madarame's palace and preparing to reach the location where he and the team would steal the man's treasure. After that – nothing. Meaning his friends were probably outside, awaiting his return in frozen time.

Akira stood to his feet. It was then that he felt a dread so immense that he thought his insides would shrivel up and die. So intense was the emotion, the fear, that Akira fell back onto the hard bed and stared at the Velvet Room door in apprehension. He didn't know how long he stared at the door, drowning in irrational terror. Still, he finally mustered his resolve after some time and left the room's safety.

O

"Yusuke," said the shadow, "I watched your mother die and did nothing."

All of Fox's self-control fizzled to nothingness, but something happened before he charged impulsively at the enemy. Lightning fast, Joker reached out and held Fox rooted in place. He didn't know how, but as he watched the shadow of Madarame sink into the ground like ink and remerge as four separate paintings, he knew he'd make the right decision.

"He wanted you to rush him," Joker told Fox. "Don't act on your own, or neither of us will survive this."

Fox nodded dumbly and readied himself. The others positioned alongside each other and prepared for the battle ahead. Joker began to shout out orders. His teammates pulled through effortlessly like skilled soldiers who'd been in countless battles.

If they kept the momentum, Joker thought they could win. They could survive.

But that sounded off to him. Survive?

Of course, they'd survive. Was there any doubt?

Nonetheless, a persistent sensation was bubbling in the thief's chest. As he avoided a swipe from one of the paintings, Joker recognized the feeling as the dread he'd felt earlier in the Velvet Room. The fear grew even as the battle progressed, as the lesser shadows were disposed of, and they began to hammer the shadow of Madarame with spell after spell. It worsened, but Joker pushed it aside to the best of his abilities.

Almost immediately, he wished he hadn't. As the battle continued, it became apparent that Madarame's shadow was not only withstanding their attacks but returning them with his own but more significant strikes. Expertly, the shadow targeted each thief's elemental weakness, and they fell one by one.

Only Joker remained standing. To distract the shadow and provide his friends time to recoup, Joker unloaded his entire clip, shooting wildly. His desperate tactic worked. The shadow's four parts loomed over him, the painting of the mouth grinning madly.

"And what do we have here?"

Joker went on the offensive. Systematically, he summoned every one of his personas, firing out their most potent attacks. An explosion of dust and smoke followed. Joker collapsed to a knee and waited. He waited and waited. When the smoke finally cleared, only one painting of an eye remained.

"Joker, look out!"

It was Panther's voice, loud and clear. Before he saw the threat, he leaped backward, narrowly avoiding being smashed by the shadow's mouth. His friends made a mad dash toward him, but lesser shadows materialized in their path. Damn, so much for their only being one.

The painting of the mouth laughed, low and menacing. "No one can help you!"

Joker grunted and then reached for his mask. Quickly, he leaped back further, avoiding being flattened by the painting of the mouth. Then the full force of his exhaustion hit him, his spiritual energy depleted from the hailstorm of spells fired moments ago.

Where was the eye? Joker wondered.

He didn't have much time to ponder, though. He assessed his personas, looking for one that could turn the situation around. Joker searched and searched, each second like hours in his mind.

The painting of the mouth struck again, and again Joker evaded. He was against a wall now. The dread in his chest was so immense he couldn't ignore it. It grew and grew as if it were trying to warn him. Joker looked up too late. For when he did, the painting of the eye fell and crushed his skull.

X

Joker rose from the hard bed and stared at the glowing blue door. He glanced behind him to see Igor and his two assistants. The thought of conversing with them came to mind, but Akira quickly dismissed the idea and focused on his situation. He had to get his priorities straight. Firstly, how and when did he enter the Velvet Room?

Unable to reach a definite answer, he stood and exited the room's safety.

The Phantom Thieves had treasure to steal. However, in his haste to return to his friends, he didn't notice how his jail cell had compressed.

X

"Yusuke, I watched your mother die and did nothing."

Joker held Fox in place. Seconds later, the shadow of Madarame transformed into four crude paintings that formed a face. Joker chastised Fox, then barked his orders to the others.

Each painting possessed its strengths and weaknesses. They were making quick work of the enemies, the lesser shadows disposed of first. The shadow of Madarame proved more resilient, though, and could withstand multiple attacks at once. Joker guessed their deficiencies, and he was right every time.

Then, another sudden urge jumped at Joker. Instead of questioning it, he followed his instinct. With all its might, it screamed at Joker to roar, "Everyone, defend!"

The paintings fired off elemental spells in rapid succession. Each attack struck their target, Panther against bufu, Skull against guru, Fox against agi, and Morgana against zio. Each spell hit their enemy but achieved nothing else.

Skull gave Joker a dubious look. "Dude, what the hell! You psychic or something?"

"Focus," Joker fired back.

The battle continued. They fought and fought without a definite conclusion. Whenever the conflict was nearing its end and victory was so close, Joker could touch it, some ill fate befell them. The paintings, they learned, could restore themselves if even one of them remained long enough. That in itself wasn't a problem. The hoard of lesser shadows that endlessly formed was.

Soon, hopelessness began to creep up. It grew and grew as the team's supplies diminished, their spiritual energies were depleted, and their injuries became unendurable.

"Run!" Joker ordered.

The shadows gave chase. Joker didn't stop running, didn't look back, until arriving at the second exhibition room with wide rectangular pillars and a painting of Madarame's student framed on said pillars. The room's yellow ambient lighting made it a stupid place to hide, but Joker was near the end of his stamina. Crouching behind a pillar, he watched and waited.

After seconds that felt like hours, Joker stood. No one was coming, he realized.

Then, he heard it. Footsteps, loud and rushed, came towards him. Panther slowed to a jog at the room's entrance, and Joker jogged to meet her. She was smiling, and he was smiling back. And then, he wasn't. Panther opened her mouth to say something, smiling without any awareness of the impending doom. Joker lunged at her, hoping against all the odds to change the inevitable. Darkness swallowed his vision and then nothing.

O

Akira sat up, the sudden motion causing waves of vertigo to assault his senses. He reached up to touch his face but stopped mid-motion, noticing the tightness around his wrists like poisonous snakes: handcuffs.

Akira's eyes widened. Against his will, his mind conjured up images of his arrest, the trial, and his last day home. The pictures then became a movie, playing on the white screen of his mind. It was unbearable. Akira snapped his attention outside his cell, to Igor, then his assistants. Like always, an inhuman smirk stretched across the old man's face. Like always, Caroline and Justine were as stiff as status, staring blankly at him.

Akira ran for the glowing blue door, exiting the Velvet Room.

X

It was a tragedy on replay. Time after time, the Phantom Thieves would snatch the phony treasure, escape, then be cornered by the shadow of Madarame. Time after time, they'd fight valiantly but never inflict enough damage to defeat their enemy – their strength lacking. And time after time, they'd all die.

Akira would wake up in the Velvet Room without recollecting his and his friend's demise. He'd jolt up from the hard bed, shake off his vertigo, then realize a change to him or the jail cell. It began with handcuffs. Then, his feet were bound, leaving him no option but to hobble toward the exit. Next, he lost his hearing, his vision, and finally his ability to speak by the iron mask over his face. He was now, indeed, a prisoner of fate.

Time became a foreign concept. Unable to move, see, or hear stripped Akira of any sense of the passage of time. Did time even flow during his visits to the Velvet Room? He hoped not; otherwise, his friends would toy with his vacant body.

It could have been seconds, minutes, hours, or even days until he heard the muffled sounds of someone's voice. He listened to a second voice. The voices were conversing among themselves. And then, his restraints were lifted – all of them. Having his sight, hearing, and movement returned was indescribable. Sensory overload was a fitting term, perhaps.

"On your feet, prisoner!" Caroline commanded.

"We have something to discuss," added Justine.

Weakly squinting at the room's dim blue lighting, Akira rose to his feet. The world was sluggish around him as if his body and mind were playing catch up.

"What the hell is going on?" Akira rasped.

Caroline smacked her baton against the bars of his cell. The metal vibrating was the equivalent of knives stabbing the inside of his ears.

"Keep your mouth shut, inmate!" Caroline ordered. "Our master has guidance to offer you. Stop slouching and pay attention!"

Despite the ringing in his ears, Akira gathered his focus, looking at Igor.

"It seems you have come to a stopping point in your rehabilitation. This stoppage prevents you from progressing in this possibility and any possibility."

"What does that have to do with you restraining me?" Akira snarled.

Caroline raised her baton again, ready to strike at Akira's cell when Igor raised his hand. Caroline relaxed, dutifully compiling with the silent order.

"You seem to be misunderstanding something," Igor said. "The additional restraints on you were not our doing. Remember, this room reflects our guest's inner state of mind. Their view of the world and reality. If there are changes in any way, it represents a change in you."

Justine's yellow eyes bore into Akira. "This stoppage my master speaks of is the cause for the change in you. And, as you are, nothing can be done to change."

"So, what? I'm going to have more physical restrictions on me?"

"Possibly. Most likely, your capacity to function will deteriorate, eventually causing what you and your friends call a mental shutdown."

The blood drained from Akira's face. Suddenly, he was hyperaware of his breathing. "I-I'm going to die?"

Justine's cold and stoic gaze softened. The look a wounded animal received before the light faded from its eyes.

"Hey, don't be jumping the gun, inmate!" Caroline asserted. "Justine said as you are. This means right now, you're weak, and we have to toughen you up! Don't think you'll get out of your rehabilitation that easy."

"How…how do we do that?" Akira asked. "How can I become stronger so quickly?"

Justine and Caroline looked at Akira lamely, but Caroline answered his question. Flicking her wrist, all his personas escaped his body and floated outside his jail cell. They were all there: Arsene, Yaksini, Ame no Uzume, Kin-Ki, Matador, and Phoenix. The various aspects of himself loomed over the twins, and, like Akira, they curiously observed the twin's actions.

"The only sensible manner to quickly grow your strength," Justine began, "is…."

"To hang up a few of the persona, you got now and create something stronger!" Caroline concluded.

Akira grimaced internally. Nothing disturbed him more about the Velvet Room than the act of fusion. He watched anxiously as Justine and Caroline looked over each of his other selves and conversed. Finally, they fell silent and turned him with an air of satisfaction.

"We have come to a possible solution," Justine said.

"Though it wasn't easy," inputted Caroline. "You're so weak that we couldn't use any fusions over your current strength, and many of the fusions weren't up to par with the situation. Luckily for you, however, we found a fusion that might do the trick."

Justine waved her hand, and three of Akira's personas returned to the depths of his soul. The three that remained, looming over the twins, were Matador, Phoenix, and Arsene. In Akira's chest, a terrible ache throbbed at the twin's intention for his personas and, more specifically, Arsene – his first persona and the closest representation of his true self.

"Y-you can't," said Akira, voice hoarse and desperate. "You can't!"

"Hm?" Caroline regarded Akira with an annoyed glance. "Don't you realize how dire your situation is?"

"Yes, but –"

"What is more important to you?" Justine inquired suddenly. "The lives of your friends or…your misguided sense of self?"

"Wha…?" Akira managed to croak.

"This stoppage will not only result in disaster for you but for your friends as well," Justine said softly.

Before Akira could process Justine's statement and form a remark, Caroline swung her baton in Akira's direction. The fact that bars of steel separated him from the tip of Caroline's weapon did nothing to alleviate the anxiety brewing in his chest.

"No more stalling inmate!" Caroline bellowed. "Your decision doesn't only affect you but your friends too! So, choose!"

Scrutinized by the twins, Akira turned his gaze toward Igor's manic grin. Whatever solace he sought was nowhere to be found, so he shut his eyes and nodded, covering his ears from guillotines and Arsene's final words.

O

"Yusuke, I watched your mother die and –"

"Setanta!" Joker didn't wait or hesitate, catching everyone – his teammates included – by surprise. "Charge!"

Tendrils of blue electricity flowed through Skull's frame.

"Dude!" blurted Skull.

"Focus!" Joker roared back.

Madarame was fading into a pool of darkness under its feet, preparing to rematerialize in its original form. Something Joker couldn't identify urged him to press onward, disregard the chaos before him, and continue his preparations. He followed the strange sensation willingly.

"Setanta, charge!"

Blue tendrils of electricity flowed through Fox. The shadow of Madarame reappeared in the shape of four abstract paintings depicting a crudely drawn face. Alongside the pictures, the lesser shadows to its side exploded in red and black liquids, revealing their genuine appearances.

"Skull, on my mark, I want you to hit them all – hard – with your strongest physical attack!" Joker ordered.

"Gotcha!"

"Fox, immediately after Skull's attack, do the same! Strike 'em!"

Fox nodded curtly through the rage and contempt toward his sensei, though Joker knew Fox would push his feelings aside to perform his assigned task.

"Joker! What do we do?" Panther asked for Morgana and herself.

Joker surveyed the mass of enemies before them and felt another intuitive spark. "Panther, Morgana…after Skull and Fox finish their assault, hit the painting of the mouth with every spell you've got."

"Why the mouth?" Panther voiced.

"And, why only spells?" Morgana questioned.

As their enemies neared and Skull and Fox waited for Joker's signal, Joker turned toward Panther and Morgana more confidently than he should have felt, given the situation. He smiled despite the turmoil causing havoc in his chest.

"Skull, now!"

It was a massacre. With Joker strengthening Skull and Fox and Panther and Morgana dishing out fire and wind spells, the paintings disappeared along with the lesser shadows.

"All-out attack!" Skull roared, which everyone chorused.

When the cloud of smoke dissipated, all that remained was the shadow of Madarame on its knees, head bowed, and the treasure nearby.

"We…did it," Skull said in disbelief. "WE DID IT!"

"We won!" Panther cheered.

"Of course," Morgana said, posing with his scimitar. "You guys had me."

"Finally," Fox said, loosening his grip on his katana. "This madness can end."

Joker watched his friends celebrate – albeit a bit early – their victory. He saw the resolution and confidence on their faces as they approached the shadow and idly wondered why he felt incapable of participating in their joy. Instead of triumph, he felt emptiness in his chest and soul where Arsene once resided.