At the end of the day, despite all the power at his disposal, Maruki was fundamentally human.

In this particular context, it meant that, even though someone of his power didn't require it, he allowed himself a small luxury in the form of an office, from which he could monitor the comings and goings of both his Palace and the world as a whole. It was humble – a gray desk, a mid-end office chair, and a multipurpose device, visually resembling a tablet on a kick-stand, connected to his Palace's internal network.

He was preoccupied with other things when the Thieves had breached into the memory room, and ended up watching the security footage way after the fact. He considered the fact that they stuck to watching his memories a wash – he didn't quite mind them seeing his memories specifically, but the fact that they used them to get further into his laboratory was an issue.

He also, unwittingly, watched Goro's half-hearted suicide attempt. He didn't even register what was happening until he had put his revolver to his head and the hammer cocked back, then struck the chamber. For one reason or another, the bullet stopped at his head and tumbled out of the barrel when he put the gun down. The blank stare and the idle cocking and uncocking of the weapon ended up, for lack of a better description, leaving quite an impression on him.

He thought about how flawed he was, and about the mistakes he had made – preventable mistakes that went against the core tenets of his project. But if his perspective was askew, distorted, as they would put it, what could you possibly say about the perspective of an underage suicidal assassin and his motley crew of troubled teenagers?

Maruki turned off the device and leaned back in his chair. The group was getting close to the very top of the facility, where what they called a Treasure was stored. If they got it, it would be curtains for this world. At the same time, he still hesitated to deploy the nuclear options. He had a more thorough and permanent personality rewrite up his sleeve, that he had used already on a few lost causes, but on top of practical considerations (it was harder and more resource-intensive to pull off), he felt that it would be confirming their point. 'Why yes, I am a despot, unable to convince you to accept this reality, now drink the Flavor-Aid.'

And then, a spark – an idea that wasn't a solution on its own, but could potentially blossom into one: maybe he could have another chat with Akira? True, last time they had parted on less-than-amicable terms, and he seemed to have more and more reservations about this whole project, but… Maybe he'd be able to give him some ideas on how to resolve this peacefully, intentionally or not. He pulled out his phone and dialed a number.

After a moment, Akira picked up. "Did something happen?" he said in lieu of a greeting. "It's awfully late for you to call."

After a beat, Maruki responded: "No, not at all. I just… wanted to have a chat."

Akira sighed. "It's eleven PM and you want to have a chat."

"Oh, p-pardon me. I'll just-"

"No, no, no, please stay on the line," he interrupted him. "Since you woke me up already, I might as well tell you something." He paused for a brief moment. "I'm back in Tokyo. Back with the Phantom Thieves."

Maruki felt as if someone had just decked him in the face. "...pardon me?"

"This… plan of yours was a half-baked idea," Akira continued. "You haven't thought about the long term perspectives of this – hell, this week proves you don't think about short term ones." He sighed again. "I should've seen the writing on the wall, but I'm a fucking idiot, and it took me until now to get off the fence. So… yeah, that's that."

Maruki took a long white to find a suitable reaction that wouldn't be just calling him a traitor, and finally muttered, dejected: "...this is how it will go then, huh?"

"I'm afraid so," he replied. Cue awkward pause. "It's late, I have to hit the hay. Goodnight, Takuto."

Akira hung up. Maruki kept the phone by his cheek for a moment, and then tossed it on the desk with a hint of frustration. The call had seemed a better idea two minutes before.

He could've rationalized away everyone else's objections – they were all misguided, broken, unable or unwilling to dream of a better world, free of pointless suffering and random whims of fate. But Akira? Akira had be- no, Akira was his friend, he gave him inspiration and pointed him in the right direction. His opinion meant a lot to him, and if he was now critical of his reality…

Maruki didn't want to surrender, dismantle all he had worked for so tirelessly, but he didn't want to oppose – or heavens forbid, fight – Akira or his friends either. But he didn't have any other options, did he? The takeover wouldn't finalize until the end of the month and he needed to keep this ship afloat until-

Realization struck again. Maruki touched his temple with his left hand and whispered "Come forth."

His Persona materialized in front of him. Its tentacles were spread out, covering almost all of the floor and going outside of the room, through the walls. Yes?

"Why does the override take so long to implement?"

Why does bending reality itself take this long? it repeated, in a tone best described as clinical. Care is required to-

"I don't have time to be careful," Maruki interrupted it. "I have a group of vigilantes trying to subvert my life's works. I can either let them do it, stop them by force… or speed the process up and present them with fait accompli, so nobody gets hurt. Is that last thing possible?"

Is fait accompli really a more ethical choice, or are you just unable to face the consequences-

"I do not want your backtalking," Maruki interrupted it once more. "I want answers."

There might be a way. A tentacle extended from a tip of the Persona's crossbar and reached towards Maruki. I could grant you a significant boost of power to accelerate this process. However, since I am your will made manifest, the feedback loop could fundamentally change your personality. Who you are and what you stand for.

Maruki stared at the appendage, hesitant. This was supposed to be the easy option, or at the very least the lesser of three evils. The discomfort then turned into frustration with oneself – all the drive to change the world for the better suddenly stopped mattering when he specifically loses out on it? He adjusted his glasses with a defiant expression and reached out to one of the tentacles. "Fine then. If I have to sacrifice who I am to change things for the better, so be it."

The tentacle connected with his fingertips and everything went dark.

Let me rephrase: everything went dark. For a few seconds, reality itself became a single, unified quasi-blackbody, absorbing all light shone on it. Then, it all returned to how it was in an instant. The whole process to an outsider looked like someone flicked the lights on and off, and so the people that were awake to notice it just shrugged and moved on.

Maruki picked himself up from the ground and adjusted his glasses. For the first time in the past few weeks, things seemed crystal clear. His Persona manifested in front of him again. It is done.

Maruki wasn't paying attention to it. There was some sort of odd blue light in his peripheral vision. He turned his head to get a better look, but it didn't seem to be attached to the same material plane and remained just out of sight.

"What the heck…" he grumbled.

In the Velvet Room, Igor glanced at his assistant. "Things have changed." He turned to his assistant. "Have you noticed?"

"Do you mean the Trickster deciding to oppose the fake reality?" Lavenza asked."

"No." He shifted in his chair. "It's more apparent. I should warn the Phantom Thieves that…" He trailed off, noticing a white spark manifesting in the middle of the room. "Hm."

With the sound of a strained groan, the spark widened to an oval portal, two meters tall and one meter wide. On the other side was annoyed Maruki, his hands slightly spread and with his eyes glowing bright white.

"Would you look at that?" Igor tented his fingers. "Another intruder."

Lavenza shot Maruki a glare that would, without hyperbole, murder a lesser being. "Leave, immediately."

"There's no need for hostilities yet," Igor gestured at her to stand down, unphased. "He seems more curious than malicious."

"What on earth is this place?" Maruki asked, stepping through the portal and letting it close behind him.

"This is the Velvet Room," Igor exposited. "A place between dream and reality, mind and matter. Pay no mind to the aesthetic, it is a leftover from an unwanted past tenant."

Maruki glanced around at the panopticon surrounding him and added two and two together… "Sakura and Yoshizawa mentioned that someone assisted them. 'A little blue bird'." …and got 'seven' as an answer. "You did this!" He gave Igor the pointer finger. "You have turned them all against me!"

"I did no such thing," Igor replied, unbothered. "All I did was explain what you did and informed them of when the point of no return will occur. Their decisions are theirs alone."

"Bullshit!" Maruki slammed his hands on his desk and leaned forward. "Why else would they oppose my reality?"

Igor rested his hands on the desk. "I'm not the one this question should be addressed to."

"I've had enough of this. Come forth!" Maruki waited a few seconds for his Persona to come when called, but it didn't manifest.

"This will not work here," Igor said, his voice turning firm. "You have overstayed your welcome. Lavenza, please show him the door."

A cell door leading somewhere manifested in the middle of the room and opened. Before Maruki could protest, Lavenza grabbed him by his ankle and threw him out, with more force than one would expect from someone of her stature. The door then closed with a loud slam and disappeared.

"Thank you." Igor closed his eyes. "There is no time to waste. I need to speak with the Wild Cards." When he opened them again, Goro and Akira were standing in front of his desk, dressed in their Metaverse outfits. "Welcome again."

"…the fuck?" Goro blurted out, then scanned his surroundings. "What are we doing here?"

"Yaldy pulled me into the Velvet Room when I was asleep a few times," Akira explained, trying to keep him calm. "I assume Igor has something important to tell us."

"Indeed," he nodded. "I'll be brief – Mr. Maruki sped up the clock on his takeover. The new deadline is this Sunday's evening."

Akira and Goro needed a moment to process the bombshell. "How did that happen?" the latter finally asked.

"I do not know the exact method," Igor explained, "but I assume it's related to an immense burst of power he had experienced a few moments ago. He was strong enough to barge into the Velvet Room uninvited."

"You told me you made precautions against this sort of thing!" Goro shrieked, panicking.

"He was ejected from the premises the moment he stepped out of line," Lavenza said.

"C'mon, deep breaths," Akira put his hand on Goro's shoulder, as he slowly inhaled, then exhaled. "I had a word with Mona and Futaba. Apparently we're close to the Treasure. Wrap up on a Saturday, Treasure heist on Sunday, and we're done with this."

"Ever the optimist," Goro muttered under his breath, then turned to Igor. "Is this everything you wanted to say, sir?"

"For now, yes," he nodded. "I will keep you informed about any other changes. Farewell."

Goro opened his eyes. He was lying on the Leblanc couch underneath a soft, comfy blanket. "There goes my good night's sleep," he grumbled.

"Join the club," Akira replied from his bed.

The two sat up and looked at one another. "So, what just happened wasn't just a vivid dream, was it?"

"Nope. We have 48 hours left on the clock, looks like." Akira scratched the head of Morgana sleeping on his bed by the wall, and got a faint satisfied purr in response. "I think we can do it."

Goro grabbed his cell phone, lying on the table by the TV, and started fiddling with it.

"What are you doing?" Akira asked.

"Writing a message to the others about the Palace deadline change," he replied.

"I don't think it's a good idea to bother them so late in the evening."

Goro winced. "…shit, you're right."

Akira's phone beeped, signifying a new message in the group chat. "Man, you type fast." Another chat beep prompted him to pick it up.

ak56: Palace deadline moved to this Sunday evening.
ribbon330: WHAT?!

"Fuck me," Goro scowled.

"Add me to the chat," Akira requested. "I'll run damage control."

ak56: I'm sorry, I shouldn't have written this so late in the evening.
ribbon330: How did that even happen?!
coffee_criminal was added to the conversation
coffee_criminal: Hey, Akira here.
coffee_criminal: (yes, I'm back on board, good evening everyone)
blonde_blur: yo, wb!
coffee_criminal: Igor got in touch with me and Goro, apparently Maruki managed to speed up the takeover somehow.
ribbon330: Come on!
ribbon330: Youve all said that we have time
ribbon330: and now we dont have time!
coffee_criminal: Don't panic, we've got this under control.
coffee_criminal: Wrap-up on Saturday, finishing it on Sunday.

Akira felt himself deflate as he typed the last line:

coffee_criminal: Celebration on Monday.

"What's bothering you?" Goro asked, noticing the deflation.

"You," he replied, putting the phone away. "More importantly, how stopping Maruki will leave you screwed over, in spite of all the progress you've made in the past few weeks. I mean, as far as I'm concerned, you've atoned for your crimes." He sighed. "The justice system will probably disagree though."

"Probably," Goro said, his expression blank. "But let's be honest: I'm a bastard, a son of a… sex worker, and an idiot besides. My story was never going to have a happy ending. And at least, at the end of it, I finally get to make my own choices, as opposed to furthering agendas of sociopathic megalomaniacs."

"Or delusional gods." Akira paused for a moment.. "I just… I grew fond of you, you pizza-cutter-edge jackass."

"Likewise, you bleeding-heart do-gooder." A beat. "You're the best friend I've ever had, and a great man besides."

Akira looked at him. "And you're a better friend and better person than you give yourself credit for."

Goro repressed the urge to argue that point. "I think I'll lie back down, if you don't mind." He flopped down, onto the side. "Try and fall asleep, despite everything."

"As you put it, 'likewise'." Akira grabbed his own duvet. "Nightie-night, Goro."

Somewhere, anywhere and nowhere at the same time, Maruki tapped a barrier in front of him, separating him from the blue-tinted energy of that weird dimension. Velvet Room, they called it.

He had tried to break it down with brute force, to no effect. Whoever erected it must have been powerful. Even more powerful than him, perhaps. They could've interjected with his plans and he couldn't do anything about it.

Or… could he?

Maruki focused. His Persona manifested above him and put two of its tentacles on the barrier. Then four. Then six. His hands balled up, his breath turned strained. The thing wouldn't budge, but maybe he could… just… a bit longer… there!

The Persona's tentacles went through the barrier, turned around, and attempted to go back in different spots, but bounced off of it. Maruki smirked. He couldn't move it out of the way, but he was powerful enough to invert it, so it was blocking whatever was inside it from getting out. If that large-nosed man really didn't influence the Thieves in any way, it wouldn't change anything, now, would it?

He dismissed his Persona and left, satisfied with himself. Maybe that day wasn't a complete loss.

Just as Goro felt himself falling asleep, a loud snippet of freeform jazz yanked him back to the real-ish world. Startled, he rolled off of the couch, while Akira and Morgana sprung up from their bed.

"What's happening?" the latter asked.

"Who the fuck calls at night…" Goro grumbled, reaching for his phone. "Of course it's fucking Kasumi. The one goddamn person with less people skills than I have…" He picked up the call. "What?!"

"Sumi's gone!"

Goro decided putting the call on loudspeaker was a good idea. "What do you mean 'gone'?"

"I woke up to go take a leak and she wasn't at home anymore and her phone is turned off!" she explained. "Do you know where she is?"