Midnight

The Dark Hour

New Moon~Sabbath

Makoto runs, hauling himself forward through the sludge and muck with barely any visibility, trying his hardest to avoid anything—and failing—to trip over.

"Aigis!" The boy calls, looking over his shoulder to the robot girl he hardly recognizes. When was her hair silver, and when did she wield an axe? "Hey, enough! We're on the same side, remember?!"
She just roars in response as he watches her sprint like an animal on all fours, using her gun-fingers to catch any kind of leverage and pull herself forward in a rabid chase. If he stops or slows, he knows she'll rip him to pieces.

It doesn't scare him; he knows he'll just return, but he can't let Aigis do that to herself. Even if she's a robot, he really thinks she'd regret it.

Makoto feels himself falling deeper and deeper into the Labyrinth's clutches, losing his way as more and more unfamiliar tunnels fill his nearly lost vision.

"Sanada, do you have a read on my position?" He tries. Nothing. "Sanada, do you copy?"

Static is all he gets in response. Damn, Akihiko was Makoto's way out. Ugh, this sucks.

"Argh, I really should have marked the walls!" The boy groans, stumbling over something hard in the regularly soft liquid. Gross. He nearly loses his balance before righting himself and continuing. With every passing step and block he passes, his breath gets more challenging to catch. "I should… Have taken Sanada up on the training offer…"

Well, there's always tomorrow. Always.

Finally, his legs give out, and he rolls in the muck, soaking his body to the bone. It doesn't take much longer for Aigis to catch up. Makoto tries to get back on his feet, but she pounces atop him, pinning the boy to the ground. His face submerges, giving him a chunky mouthful of whatever the liquid is.

Disgusting. He retches, gagging as the fluid fills his throat and coughs the remnants away until only gritty flecks remain.

He's lifted, still pinned, but given enough leverage to bring his face out of the watery substance. Still coughing, he sputters and opens his eyes. She's straddling him, leaning against her axe with one arm while her other pins him. The amount of strength in her single arm is jarring, considering it doesn't look like the mechanical girl is at all struggling.

"A-Aigis, what—?"

She growls, interrupting him and leaning close. The boy freezes, the hairs on his neck standing on end as it lets out a whirring hum in his ear. The sound so close to his sensory organs gives Makoto goosebumps, and he shudders out a breath. If she kills him, it won't change anything. He'll wake up again, probably still covered in this sludge. Pointless.

"Rng," The robot growls, letting out the closest thing to a word he's heard and moving back, giving the boy a… confused stare? "Not… Shadow?"

"Huh?" That is all he can respond with.

"Not Shadow." She seems to reaffirm, nodding along with her words. "Human."

"Aigis?" He asks.

"Aigis?" She repeats, tilting her head like a dog and testing the word—it sounds like she hasn't 'spoken' in a very long time. "Ai…Gis?" Suddenly, she straightens, her head level and brows ramrod straight. "Aigis. ASW Unit: Twenty-Three. Sister."

"Sister?" Makoto asks again, the questions piling upon each other. She's still on top of him, muttering and mumbling as it twitches its head, confused. "Who are you?"

The severe and tight body language from before as she reports on Aigis fades as she gazes back down at him. When listing off Units, her voice is hard and calculated—robotic—Fades and is once again savage. Barbaric, yet childish.

"Labrys, me." It retorts as the eyes or ocular systems lose their intensity. The sharp, deep crimson dims into embers. They're Curious. Proud? "ASW Unit: Thirty-One." Behind her helmet, Makoto imagines a smile spreading across her face as the skin around her eyes—Oculars—wrinkles and squints. "Me am Labrys!" She giggles.

God, there's more? Shit, maybe Makoto should have expected that. After all, they are numbered.

"Labrys," Makoto repeats, offering a tight grin as he pats her metal arm. "It's a pleasure. Do you mind letting me stand?"

"Human," She grunts, her voice regaining its edge. "Why in Labyrinth? This Labrys hunt! Labrys' directive!"

"I'm looking for Aigis," Makoto says, deciding it's probably best not to lie to the murderous caveman robot death machine. "Followed her signal—what we thought was her signal—but I'm beginning to suspect that was you all along."

"Funny human!" She scoffs, shaking her head, making the matted hair splaying out from behind her mask sway with the movement. Labrys stinks, he realizes, as the stench of however-long-old musk wafts from her hair. "Labrys in Labyrinth! Axe named Labrys, too! But me am named after directive, silly!"

This is like dealing with a child. Thanatos is more manageable to converse with, and he's actually a child.

Right? Ugh, who even knows at this point.

"Yes—I realize that now," He sighs. "Look, maybe we can work together—I worked with Aigis, after all. What're you hunting?"

"Djinn." The robot states as if he's got any idea what that means.

Makoto waits for a beat, feeling the slurry of muck seep into his bones as Labrys sits on him. She stares at the boy without any semblance of continuing her point or explaining what she just said.

"What—What's a Djinn?" The boy asks, feeling his patience getting thinner and thinner.

"Labrys hunt Djinn," She nods, her helmet clanks with the jutting. "Long time."

"Jesus, that still—!" He nearly loses it before catching himself and grinding back the frustration. "What do they look like?"

"Classified," The robot immediately takes on a new tone, its feminine and savage voice shifting to cold and calculating as her mask straightens. But it is broken by a twitch, her neck jerking with a mechanical click. "Rrrgh. Me hunt long time—eight-thousand-seven-hundred-and-sixty hours."

Wow. No wonder she went caveman. That's a very long time, indeed. Makoto wonders if she's even actually seen one of those 'Djinn' she's talking about. Almost nine thousand hours in the Dark Hour must mean her directive hasn't been completed.

Wait a minute—there was that thing Strega summoned, and Makoto has had direct contact with it. Maybe…

"Do you know how to get out of here?" Makoto grunts, trying to push himself up but cannot even budge the metal arm, pinning him to the ground. Well, at least he tried.

"Labrys knows Labyrinth." The robot quizically turns her head. "Why?"

"Guh—thank god," The boy sighs in relief, the back of his head falling into the sludge. "I know where the Djinn is. I'll lead you to it if you can get me out."

"Stupid," Labrys laughs loudly, throwing her head back animatedly with the facsimile of emotion. It's eerie. "No 'get out'! Need to kill Djinn for that!"

Usually, Makoto'd be all for fighting something he doesn't understand, but he doesn't even need to be here. He just wants to leave, fill in Akihiko and find another lead for Aigis. But no. He's stuck down in this goddamn sewer, talking to an infantilized robot.

"Great." He grunts as Labrys finally lets him go free. Cracking his neck, Makoto pushes himself to his feet and sighs. "Well, follow me. I'll take you to where I saw it."

And heard it, felt it stab into him and whisper into his psyche words of malevolent venom. It's a monster, but Makoto can't find it within himself to consider this whole debacle anything other than a chore.

Leading the Neandrathal-Droid is harder than Makoto expects, as she rushes from point A to B without worrying about what lies ahead. Her massive axe immediately eviscerates any Shadows that somehow made their way into the Labyrinth, and she continues forward without a care.

"If you're done breaking things, let's move." Makoto grunts, getting annoyed with all the damn running he has to do to keep up with this friggin' demon-droid. "The Djinn won't wait forever, and neither will I."

"Rrrgh," Labrys growls, scrunching her face at the thought of not breaking something.

"Look, I'm sure we'll find something for you to smash on the way," he says, trying to reason with her. "If you follow and listen to me like a good girl, I promise to let you go wild."

Suddenly, the aggressive stance she was in previously drops and she straightens. Her axe falls to the muck with a thud. "Acceptable. Me be 'good girl.' No lying!"

"Cross my heart," Makoto says, raising his hands and swishing them lazily across his chest. "Now, let me lead."

The robot growls, glaring at the indifferent boy before stalling her movement and watching him as he passes.

"Thank you," He stares impassively at her, which makes Labrys' nose wrinkle.

—

The night is chilling for Kotone as she and her teammates walk to the daunting Tower of Demise. Her head aches, but she's trying hard to stop thinking about it. If she ignores it, hopefully, that means she'll be able to avoid drinking.

To-Chan hasn't spoken to her in a week. He finds her disgusting, a worthless alchy with nothing of value within her soul. He is right, of course, and so, Kotone desires change. She barely stumbles up the stairs of some walkways she'd lost track of as she makes her way to Tartarus. Kotone avoids walking alongside Yukari and Junpei while Mitsuru leads them from the front.

They cut in front of a WildDuck, and the stench of grease and heavy, humid air punches her in the face. The weight of the smog almost makes her throw up, but thankfully, her stomach is empty as she dry heaves what feels like dust.

"You okay?" Suddenly, Junpei is at her side, patting her back with a serious expression that looks alien on his face. "Y'aren't looking so good, Ko-tan."

"M'fine," She musters a smile. "Just got a whiff of something gross, that's all."

"Yeah, there's a bunch of gross smelling shit around here," The boy eyes some trash bags dripping with red. "Never came down this part of town. Everyone told me it was rough, especially when I first transferred here."

"I've been meaning to ask," Kotone fully gives him her attention, continuing their slow jaunt to the tower of doom. "How's it going? Are things better with your dad now that you moved out?"

"Heh," The boy gloomily laughs, rubbing the stubble beneath his ball cap. "Hell if I know. Haven't talked to him since I left."

Damn. Kotone knew that Junpei had a strained relationship with his dad, but every time she hears about it, the more it makes her chest ache. As much as the guy likes to pretend he's some joker goofball, he's got a stony heart. He masks his sadness behind a smile, something Kotone can relate to. It's what makes her so invested in their friendship—she wants to be a good and level shoulder for him to lean on.

Even if she's a drunk mess behind her falsetto smile, Kotone is trying to be better.

"I'm sorry," she consoles with a light pat on his back. He's very tall, so she has to reach up, and it's awkward. "I can tell it's hard. I wish I could offer some kind of advice, Junpei."

"Nah, it's okay," the boy smiles back. It feels genuine. He smiles like the sun when he means it. "Just talkin' makes me feel better. You got me thinkin', though. Might be time to give the old bastard a call." His smile falls, and he heaves a sigh. "Anyway, we're almost at the tower."

"Oh," Kotone looks up, realizing the looming tower has begun to creep over them. Dread pools in her gut, churning like poison. Some vodka would hit right now. "I didn't even notice."

Kotone begins to march ahead but is halted when Junpei grabs her wrist. Gently, but firmly.

"Hey," he grunts, his face twisted slightly when she looks back at him. "Thanks, Ko-tan. For… askin', I guess. It means a lot."

"Of course," she musters a bright grin. "Anytime, buddy."

—

"Damn," Yukari gasps, falling into the lounge's sofa and letting her bow clatter to the ground uncharacteristically. She must be exhausted. "That was awful. Four tough shadows in a row?"

"Indeed," Mitsuru grimaces, her arms crossed tightly as she watches Junpei and Kotone fall next to the exhausted girl on the sofa equally tired. "I wish I could have offered more assistance. I feel as though sitting in the entrance is not enough."

"You're doing more than enough, Senpai," Kotone immediately cuts in, refusing to allow her exertion to show. It's hard. "We need the info you provide."

"Still…" the girl huffs and Kotone can recognize that as her way of ending the conversation. As much as she wants to push Mitsuru on the topic, she's so damn tired, and it's just not worth it. A moment passes, and she can hear Mitsuru beginning to pace, her confident demeanour getting overrun by anxiety. "Where's Makoto and Akihiko? The Dark Hour is almost over."

Immediately, the exhaustion fades from Kotone, replaced by shock. Since when did Mitsuru-Senpai ever call someone by their first name? Aside from Akihiko and Shinji, of course. "Nothing on the Cochlear?"

"I'm trying," Mitsuru has her hand on her ear, where the device sits. "Nothing—Ah, Akihiko—"

Suddenly, the front door smashes open, revealing a haggard and beaten Akihiko. He rushes to a frozen Mitsuru, grabbing her shoulders and whispering aggressively in her ear. Shock, horror, then pure terror engrosses her features.

Everyone sitting immediately jumps to their feet, a cacophony of questions on their lips, but Kotone only has one thought on her mind.

"W-where's Yuki-senpai?!"

—

"This," Makoto gestures to a familiar door in the middle of the cenote he'd woken up in before. "Is where I last saw it. Or… experienced it?"

He doesn't know how to explain.

"Djinn slippery," Labrys stalks forward to the metal utility door. Like a crocodile hunter, she examines the metal door, her axe gripped tightly, sniffing the air like a predator on edge. She hesitates, her usual confidence shaken.

"Djinn… close," she mutters, her voice trembling slightly.

Makoto steps forward, the muck sloshing under his boots. "It's behind the door ."

Labrys doesn't answer immediately. Her eyes—those artificial embers—flicker and dim, her systems struggling to stay cohesive.
"Directive unclear," she grinds out, clutching her head as sparks spray from her neck joint.

Before Makoto can respond, the door bursts open, releasing a wave of unnatural energy. It's not heat or cold—it's the sensation of wrongness. The air feels too thick to breathe, and whispering voices grow louder, speaking languages that don't exist.

Makoto takes a step back, his hands trembling despite himself. He can't see the Djinn, not directly. His eyes refuse to focus on its shape, his vision sliding off its edges like oil.

"What the hell is that?" he whispers, his voice barely audible over the cacophony.

Labrys, however, is transfixed. Her body stiffens as if caught in a trance. "Djinn… Djinn…" she repeats, her tone oscillating between curiosity and grim clarity.

The entity moves—or perhaps it doesn't. The space between them shifts as if reality is bending to its whims. Makoto feels pressure in his skull as if the Djinn is watching him, prying into his thoughts.

"This one is flesh and nerve," the voices whisper—not one, but many, layering over each other like threads of discordant harmony. The sounds burrow into his mind, piercing like shards of glass. They twist into a symphony of countless tongues, familiar yet alien, a fractured reflection of his mother tongue. "However, it has lost that which makes it human."

"Djinn…" Labrys chants, her voice caught between reverence and fury. Each syllable grates against the silence, punctuated by the stuttering sparks in her neck. Her head jerks with mechanical dissonance, a puppet struggling against unseen strings. "Djinn… Djinn."

"This one is machine and duty," the voices rise again, their cadence pulling taut like a bowstring, "and yet it carries a soul—fractured, flickering, clinging to purpose like a candle against the endless expanse."

Labrys twitches, her eyes glowing with uneven light, the embers of her consciousness sputtering against the weight of the voices. "Djinn…" she murmurs, her chant faltering into static. "Djinn… must… destroy…"

"This one…" the voices linger, sharpening as they address Makoto again, pressing deeper into his mind. He can feel it when it's addressing him, peering at him from its dark emptiness of white fountains and unlimited eyes. But… it isn't? Not directly, at least. "Is deathless. Bound by fate's tether, yet untethered. Forgotten by time, yet never free."

Makoto exhales, his breath shaky but his face blank, unreadable. The weight of their words stirs nothing in him—no fear, no anger—only the faintest flicker of irritation at their persistence.

"What does it matter?" he says, his voice cutting through the thick, oppressive air. "Soul, flesh, machine—it's all the same to you, right? Another game to play."

The whispers swell into a cacophony, and laughter and screams become chaotic. Labrys growls low in her throat, sparks flying from her neck, igniting her fury. "No game! Labrys, end this! End Djinn!"

Makoto steps forward, unflinching as the space around them bends. The air warps under the Djinn's incomprehensible presence. He glances at Labrys, his voice calm and cold.

"Then let's end it." The boy says, standing before an incomprehensible horror and drawing his new sword. The very blade given to him by such a… thing. Makoto will make it regret giving him a weapon. "Remember this? I've been itching to give it back. Stick it in your chest, this time."

Makoto raises the blade, its edge gleaming unnaturally, reflecting the Djinn's warped form like a distorted mirror. The whispers intensify, now accompanied by grotesque flashes of light and shadow.

Labrys lets out a roar, charging forward recklessly with her axe raised high. Makoto doesn't move to stop her. He simply watches, his grip tightening on the hilt of his weapon.

The Djinn doesn't retreat. Instead, it unfurls, its incomprehensible form stretching in all directions, consuming the space. Labrys' axe strikes true, sinking deep into the void—and yet it strikes nothing at all. Her form stumbles and collapses as though attacking has drained her.

"Foolish machine," the voices hiss. "Purpose is not strength. Duty is not power."

Makoto steps forward, unfazed. He eyes the Djinn's undulating form, his expression as flat as his tone. "You talk too much."

With that, he lunges forward, his blade cutting through the air—and into whatever constitutes the Djinn's being. Makoto's blade strikes true, or it feels like it does. The edge cleaves into the Djinn's form, but there's no impact, no resistance—instead, the creature's body twists and ripples like water disturbed by a stone.

Screw it, maybe it's time. Reaching for his holster, he unhooks his evoker and holds it to his temple. "Orpheus!" His psyche explodes into glass, formulating the robotic form of his true self.

The Persona immediately attacks, blowing into the Djinn with an explosion of fire. He grins savagely at the carnage, but his smile fades into a grim scowl when the Djinn appears unharmed.

"Damn!" He jumps back, dodging a whipping shadow that absorbed his previous location. Orpheus retreats into his Soul, awaiting his next call.

Unfortunately, Makoto's beginning to think Persona are gonna be useless here. How do you even fight this thing?

Labrys howls and charges again, swinging her axe wildly. The air around the Djinn thickens, pushing back against her strikes, but she presses forward. Sparks fly from her limbs as she exerts herself, her movements growing erratic.

"Labrys, stop—!" Makoto calls, but his voice is drowned out by the cacophony of the Djinn's whispers. The Labyrinth shifts around them, the walls contorting into impossible shapes.

A tendril of shadow lashes out at Makoto, wrapping around his arm. He feels a chill seep into his bones, accompanied by an alien pressure in his mind.

"You cannot kill what you cannot comprehend," the Djinn hisses. Snakes and hyenas send his caveman brain into overdrive. Fight or flight tells him to flee, but he can't deny that this is exhilarating.

God, I just want to be free of this Labyrinth.

The boy grimaces, trying to ignore how the Djinn's voices dig themselves into his brain. He yanks his arm free and moves to strike again, but the Djinn splits into countless fragments, each moving in a different direction. The Labyrinth warps further, the muddy ground splitting beneath their feet, pooling sludge like waterfalls into nothingness.

"Stay focused!" he shouts at Labrys, who snarls and swings her axe at the nearest fragment. The battle has only begun.

The Djinn's form dissipates like smoke, its presence lingering as the Labyrinth unravels. The walls twist and groan, the ceiling warps, and the muck beneath their feet drains away, revealing an abyss.

Labrys looks around, panic flashing in her glowing eyes. "What… happening?" she growls, her voice glitching with static. "Labyrinth… breaking?"

Makoto doesn't answer immediately. He takes a steadying breath, his gaze scanning the shifting environment. "No," he mutters, more to himself than to her. "It's adapting."

The ground beneath them gives way, and they fall. Makoto doesn't scream—he simply braces for impact, his expression stoic as always. On the other hand, Labrys lets out a guttural roar as she clutches her axe tightly.

They land in a new part of the Labyrinth that feels even more alien than the last. The air here is heavy with whispers, and the walls pulse like living flesh.

"Djinn close," Labrys mutters, her voice low and dangerous.

Makoto sighs, brushing himself off. "Great. Let's end this before the whole sewer drops us into the void."

The flesh walls are gross, but he pushes on. Getting a mouthful of sewer water has broken that part of his brain. The new sword in his grasp is comforting, lending itself to the fact that Makoto lost all the gear he… requisitioned while fighting Strega in Paulownia. Mitsuru really wouldn't let him keep it, the boy gripes.

Immediately, the area around the duo shifts again, amalgamating into an empty room with a writhing mass of black smoke and liquid. It looks like all the sewage he'd previously waded through has joined into… whatever it is.

As Makoto steps closer, the thing stops moving. The air grows still, and the oppressive atmosphere shifts. Makoto feels the pressure in his mind intensify as visions flash.

"Djinn," Labrys growls, answering Makoto's unasked question. "Approach with caution."

Huh. That sounded like a well-formulated sentence.

Before either of them realizes what's happening, the shadow's attack surrounds them without making a sound.

Makoto sees himself standing in a dark void, surrounded by countless versions of himself. Each one bears a different expression—anger, sorrow, fear, joy. Whenever he moves his head, arms, or anything, that image follows the movement. It's eerie and uncanny to see yourself move from the third person.

"This is what you are," the Djinn's voices echo into his skull. "A fragment. A shell. A shadow of what once was. Everything is shattered like mirrors upon mirrors upon mirrors."

The visions shift. He's shown SEES, their faces filled with fear and despair, Kotone and Iori-chan standing above the fallen forms of Mitsuru, Akhiko and Yukari. He watches them turn to face him and then reach out to him, only for his reflection to turn away, indifferent to their suffering.

"Do you even care?" the Djinn whispers. "Does their pain mean anything to you, deathless one?"

Makoto clenches his fists, his jaw tightening. "You're wasting your time. Whatever you're trying to do—it won't work."

The Djinn's laughter fills the void, painting memories of glossy windows and clowns—a noose and a cat stuck in a tree. "Perhaps. Or perhaps you've already lost and don't even realize it."

"I don't care," Makoto growls, his head pounding. "I'm just here to feel something."

"Interesting—"

Before the being can even finish, the landscape surrounding Makoto shatters, revealing a heaving and panting Labrys, looking more and more like the monster he'd thought she was when first meeting her.

"Enough games," Labrys' voice modulator shakes with rage, her heaving form and massive axe lending itself to her monstrous appearance. "Directive states destruction. Labrys will achieve directive. No more games."

—

May 6th

Wednesday

Evening ~ 3 Days until the Full Moon

Kotone awakens with a gasp, lying on her stomach in a puddle of puke. Her puke. Her head spins as she stumbles to her feet, rushing to her sink near the entrance to her room. Dunking her head beneath the spigot, she moans and then heaves her guts into the drain.

Nothing but brown, sticky and acidic sludge escapes her disgusting maw.

She groans as the cold water soaks her head, and she gulps greedily from the water pooling atop her pounding skull.

Sighing, she turns her head and gazes out the window behind her. The setting sun catches between her window blinds, twisted shut to keep the light out from her cave.

Kotone hasn't gone to school for the past week. Mitsuru hasn't given her too hard of a time, as all of SEES seems to be taking Makoto's loss pretty hard. Yukari and Junpei have been staying out later than usual, Akihiko has thrown himself into training after finally getting his cast off and Mitsuru's locked herself in her room whenever she's not at school.

Mitsuru-Senpai and Kotone have that in common. Except Mitsuru goes to school.

Groaning again, Kotone drags herself out from under the tap, leaving the water running because she knows she'll just be back under it in no time flat when she cracks open that last bottle stashed under her bed and sluggishly makes her way to the record player in the middle of the trashed room on the floor near where she woke up.

It's the only thing that isn't covered in throw-up or garbage. It isn't hers, after all.

With tears in her eyes and a gross sob, she clicks the knob and moves the needle over the record and the music plays.

The guitar's tinny baritone and drums' crashing squeaks to life with a scratching start. The Instruments cover the sound of Kotone's sobbing.

"Dreamless dorm—Ticking clock~"

—

The Labyrinth

Unknown

???

Makoto ducks behind a jagged ledge made of what resembles bone, his breath steady despite the chaos. A writhing mass of tentacles, eyes, and shadow twists above him, its movements defying logic. He doesn't know how long he's been fighting this thing, but it feels like an eternity. Nothing works.

Personas can't touch it. The sword in his hand—his supposed trump card—only scratches the surface. And Labrys? She's relentless but single-minded. Every swing of her axe is met with futility, her battle cries swallowed by the Djinn's incomprehensible presence.

"This is taking too long," Makoto mutters to himself, wiping muck from his face. He peers over the ledge, watching Labrys launch herself at the Djinn again. "How do you kill what you don't understand?"

The question hangs in the air as he thinks. The Djinn—a being made of eyes and shadows, an entity that refuses to conform to logic. What even is a Djinn? He racks his brain, pulling at fragments of old stories and half-remembered lore.

"An Arabic spirit," he whispers. "A genie. And what do genies do?"

The answer hits him like a bolt of lightning. "Wishes…"

His gaze drops to the sword in his hand. It had granted him a weapon—because he must have subconsciously wished for one. But the Djinn had twisted it, making the blade pierce his chest first. A cruel joke.

"Shit," Makoto breathes, his mind racing. He glances around the twisted landscape—the fleshy walls, the pulsating floor. It had changed when he thought, I want to be free from this Labyrinth. Another wish, monkey-pawed into something far worse.

"Holy shit," he whispers, realizing the truth. "I've got one more wish left."

The realization weighs heavy. His final wish could end this—or doom him further. Wishing for the Djinn's death might backfire horribly, and simply wishing it away could leave him trapped in endless darkness.

"How do you kill what you don't understand…?" he asks again, more to himself than to anyone. Around him, the chaos of Labrys' battle fades into the background, his mind narrowing in on the problem.

That's it.

Makoto's eyes lock onto the writhing form of the Djinn. To defeat it, he doesn't need to kill it. He needs to take away its power.

Labrys collapses, sparks flying from her neck as she takes a brutal hit to the cranium. She doesn't look like she'll get up in time to dodge the final blow. The Djinn's shadow looms over her, ready to strike.

Makoto grips the sword tightly, his voice cutting through the carnage.

"I wish," he bellows, his voice echoing through the warped space, "to understand you."

The Djinn freezes. Its form convulses, the eyes focusing on him with an intensity that makes his skin crawl. Labrys looks up at him, her expression a mix of confusion and fear.

Makoto doesn't waver. His heart pounds, his body screaming at him to move, to run—but he stands firm, staring directly into the abyss. "Come on," he mutters under his breath. "Let's see what you've got."

Immediately, Makoto's vision floods with alien concepts—endless voids, echoes of forgotten times, the Djinn's origin as a parasite feeding on chaos. He doesn't fully comprehend it, but one truth is clear: the Djinn thrives on fear and confusion. It's man-made—a faulty imitation of something Makoto can't fully grasp.

It's nothing. Just like him—a meager prototype formed out of fear to combat some external force.

He grips the sword tightly. "You're not a god. You're a manifestation of the Collective Unconscious—humanity's desire to comprehend."

The Djinn recoils, its writhing mass collapsing into itself. Eyes dim and burst like dying stars, shadows unraveling into threads of black smoke. Its power wanes, the whispers fading into silence.

"Whoever made you did the world a disservice out of fear," Makoto says, his voice gaining strength with every passing word. "You're a cheap knockoff of something actually terrifying. Strega may have summoned you, but it's my job to end you."

The Djinn's form shatters, its fragments dissipating into the void. Makoto steps forward, staring down the fading remnants of the creature.

"Begone," he says, his tone cold and final. "You were never real to begin with."

The remnants of the Djinn's shattered form dissolve into the air, leaving behind a silence that feels heavier than the battle. Makoto lowers his sword, its weight suddenly more tangible in his hand. He glances at Labrys, who sits in the muck, sparks sputtering from her damaged frame.

"It's done," he mutters, though he isn't sure if it's meant for her or himself.

The walls of the Labyrinth don't crumble. They don't shift into something recognizable. Instead, the fleshy corridors seem to pulse, as if alive, watching him, judging. The oppressive weight of the place remains, but something has shifted—something beyond Makoto's comprehension.

Labrys struggles to her feet, her axe dragging against the floor with a metallic scrape. She looks at him, her glowing eyes dim but focused. "Djinn… gone?"

Makoto nods. "Yeah. For now."

She tilts her head, the sparks at her neck quieting. "Labrys… free?"

Makoto doesn't answer immediately. He looks around, the suffocating space still twisting with shadows and faint whispers that tickle the edge of hearing. "Let's not stick around to find out."

He begins walking, his steps deliberate, the sword still clenched tightly in his hand. The corridors stretch endlessly, each turn looking the same as the last. Yet, Makoto moves with purpose, as if guided by something unseen.

Labrys stumbles after him, her movements mechanical and strained. "Where go? Labrys… lost."

"Home," Makoto says simply, though the word feels foreign on his tongue. He doesn't know if they're heading the right way—or if there even is a right way. But the air feels lighter, the whispers growing faint, like the Labyrinth is reluctantly letting them go.

As they walk, the walls around them blur, their textures shifting from bone to metal to something softer, darker. The boundaries between reality and whatever this place is begin to erode, the world folding in on itself.

When the exit appears, it isn't sudden or dramatic. It's just there—a dim light in the distance, flickering like a dying star. Makoto doesn't hesitate, his steps steady as he approaches.

Labrys lingers for a moment, her gaze flicking back toward the twisting corridors behind them. "Labrys… not understand."

Makoto glances over his shoulder. "Neither do I." He pauses, his expression unreadable. "And that's probably for the best."

Together, they step through the light.

Hey sorry this took so long. I really wanted it to be perfect.

lemme know what you think PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE