Chapter Text
There is a bed in the center of the room. At least, Goro perceives there being a bed. The pattern on the top comforter ebbs and swirls, his vision unable to come into focus. When he sits on the edge there is no sensation, no cushion pushing up against his legs or softness beneath his touch. Curious, he checks for his own heartbeat.
If only he could feel his palm against his chest.
It’s odd. He’s not as concerned as perhaps he should be. When he tries to tell himself something is wrong, you shouldn’t be here, his subconscious just shrugs. It’s not as if there’s much he can do in his current state, and even if he could, this Elizabeth he’s with surely has her own intentions for him.
Actually, that is his one point of concern: Elizabeth. She stands out to him with perfect clarity, every detail of her face, body and attire defined and captivating. Her grin never wavers as he waits for him to adjust, all of her teeth dazzling in the low light.
“I’m sure you have plenty of questions. I’m more than happy to answer them.”
Goro attempts to breathe, watching his chest to make sure it moves. “What…happened?”
“Oh, you exploded,” she answers plainly. “I thought that was rather obvious.”
He blinks. “Let me clarify...what happened to bring me here?”
Elizabeth gestures to herself with an elegant sweep of her arm. “I am the one responsible for saving your life! I was able to snatch your essence before it was sent to...wherever it would’ve gone. Perhaps a pleasant afterlife, or a...not so pleasant one. You’re awfully good at avoiding those places.”
“Not intentionally. Am I able to get back to my previous reality?”
“Oh no, absolutely not. At least, not as you currently are. You have no body to return to, and your existence is too fragile. It wavers like the dying light of a candle.”
“Are you referring to…my soul?”
Elizabeth ponders the question, and the fact that she hesitates at all finally troubles him. This woman, with her white hair and golden eyes, is clearly of some relation to Lavenza. If an all-powerful entity isn’t even sure what Goro is, then where does that leave him? Floating aimlessly for all eternity, confined to this one tiny room?
“It’s more like…your potential. Who you are and what you could be, other than what you were.”
Sensation finally hits him, a small burst of pain throbbing beneath his temple. He rubs the sides of his head still unable to feel his hands. “I’m not real again. And now I’ve returned to the place I was created from, fully aware of what I was pretending to be…”
“Pffffft.”
Goro pauses. “I’m…sorry? Was that somehow amusing?”
Elizabeth steps closer to him, her grin softening. “You are very much real, Goro Akechi. You always have been.”
He’s able to suck in enough air to scoff. “You must not be familiar with my history.”
“You were killed by a cognitive clone, then were made into one yourself. Life has been granted to you more than once, but it has rarely been kind.”
She stands very close, then kneels to his eye level. When Goro glances down, he realizes she’s taken his hands in hers.
“But even if where you came from was not where you anticipated, you were always you. Not memories given shape, nor a puppet mimicking your choices. You were Goro Akechi. As you were, and as you continued to be.”
The pain in his head subsides, and sensation flows down the back of his spine. His skin tingles, muscles spasming, insides twitching, as all at once Goro Akechi becomes. He jolts, ripping his hands away. He grabs at his limbs, claws at his face. His tongue itches, his eyes burn, his body is raw. He convulses as his heart stutters, gasps when it starts.
He is as he was, and as he will continue to be.
Elizabeth backs away, as pleased as can be. “Though you were never an official guest of ours, your soul has always been under our protection. The moment you awakened to your power, a part of you became one with this place. As it is for all who wield personas, but only some are aware of our world and can enter as they please.”
Goro struggles to catch his breath. He shivers, cold sweat gathering on his brow. Despite regaining awareness of his body, the room around him is just as distorted as before. “So, I’m not…a shadow…but then what am I--or, what was I before…?”
“Exploding?”
“Yes, that…”
“You were Goro Akechi, again.”
“But I was…there was a body, after Shido’s palace. I was buried. I went to the grave site.”
“And there was a body just now, only it’s in quite a few pieces--”
“Alright, I get it.” His legs kick out as he attempts to stand. Evidently, some parts of him still need time to adjust. “Either you’re unsure of the answer, or don’t wish to tell me. Perhaps I should ask this instead: can you return me to my previous reality?”
Elizabeth’s expression turns cat-like. “I may have an idea on that~,” she confesses, in a sing-song voice. “Though before I attempt to send you on your way, there is something I wish to discuss with you. A deal, of sorts”
Goro’s already rapid heartbeat quickens. “I’ve made enough deals. They never turn out very good for me.”
“Hmm, maybe because you tend to side with the wrong people.”
Goro scowls, though not really in a position to argue. “And you’re claiming to be the right kind of person?”
She laughs gleefully. “I am certainly special, and capable of many things. For instance--”
Holding out her hand, the air between her fingers shimmers and hums. Then with a puff of dazzling light, a large, leather-bound tome appears in her grasp. She flips quickly to the first page, turning the book around so Goro can see.
“My my, you are missing your personas! Look how pitiful this list is!”
She doesn’t give him a chance to respond, already flipping to the next page. Blank. She flips again. Blank as well.
“That’s my compendium,” he surmises, “As far as I was aware, only Kurusu’s Velvet Room attendant had access to it.”
Elizabeth snaps the tome shut, almost on Goro’s fingers. She tucks the compendium safely in the crook of her arm. “I may have stolen yours, for the purposes of our arrangement. Don’t worry, I have a way of returning it.”
Goro tugs at his shirt collar, suddenly hot despite the chills raking through his body. “What importance does it have to our ‘arrangement?’”
With a delicate hand, Elizabeth holds out his compendium, closes her eyes, and mutters something that fizzles in his ears like static. There’s a much more blinding flash of white light, and lying in her hands now is a different tome. This book is much older, judging by the creases along the spine and the yellowing of the paper. Her eyes lose their spark, and she takes her time flipping through the pages.
Finally, with profound reverence, she closes the tome. “This is the compendium of Makoto Yuki. He collected far more personas than you over the course of his life, and used a great deal of them before his passing.”
She steps closer again. Goro scrambles to stand, finally gaining control over his mobility. Despite matching his height, she towers over him. Her eyes are frantic, searching, weighing a risk he fears he’ll pay the price for.
“I am quite powerful, but outside of my Master’s domain, I face many limitations. Though I was able to save your soul, I am unable to return you as you were. ”
Goro swallows. The finality of death failed to intimidate him past the first time, but the uncertainty of life has always terrified him. “Why leave your master in the first place, if you can’t accomplish what you left to do, I assume?”
Elizabeth grins, but this one does not reach her eyes. “There’s something I have to do that he is not willing to. I know you don’t appreciate being used as a pawn in someone else’s game, so I will keep my goals and your fate as transparent as possible. I can return you back to the moment of your death, not as you are now but by exploiting a...minor loophole.”
“How minor?”
“In the grand scheme of things, minor enough.”
Goro hates that he has no choice but to listen to her.
She continues. “If I were to, say, loosely define a persona as the perceivable form of a person’s will, then a soul is no more than the purest form of one.”
Goro’s heart stops dead again. “You’re putting me in his damn book?!”
“Indeed!” Elizabeth exclaims. “However, your soul isn’t truly a persona. They may both be capable of thought and action, but only one possesses the ability to desire. Given this, you will be able to summon yourself at will and return to your reality, flesh and bone.”
Her train of logic falls off the tracks the more Goro thinks about it. “That...makes no sense. If I were to summon myself--if that’s even possible--that wouldn’t make me human. If anything--!”
Elizabeth tuts. “For such an intelligent young man, I’m surprised you skipped over the most important detail. Cognition, Goro Akechi. What holds the leftovers of Dr. Maruki’s reality together? The beliefs of powerful persona users. It’s why so many are trapped in it now, because they refuse to let go of the falsehoods that blinded them for months. I’m sure you have someone over there who believes you could survive anything. It would only take one of them considering you real to make you so.”
God. Damn. Akira.
He breathes in deep, anger blistering his lungs. It’s a profound rage, one he hasn’t felt--or indulged in--since a fateful day in Shido’s palace, and it takes everything in him not to scream. He wants to rip the sheets off this strange bed, break the piano stool in half and use it to smash the instrument to pieces. He wants to take the tether forever connecting him to that idiot and sever it with his own hands. But he can’t, and he can’t settle for wrecking this place to pieces either.
Because no matter what Goro does, no matter what he says, no matter how much time or distance separates them, Akira always refuses to let go. Even when he did let Goro go and refused Maruki’s deal, his hope that Goro would somehow be able to stay most likely brought him back.
What happens when Akira finally decides Goro isn’t worthy of the same forgiveness he holds for others?
“My master will take immediate notice of the irregularity,” Elizabeth continues, either not noticing Goro’s anger or unbothered by it. “Luckily, he will be unable to act for some time. This pocket dimension of Dr. Maruki’s has thrown us all for a loop, twice! All the chaos it’s caused, fates unraveled, the laws of nature violated. The continued existence of Maruki’s world suggests a single, parasitic entity as the cause; likely, a problem Maruki thought he had solved and only made worse. Perhaps the rise of certain persona users from the dead.”
Finally, a lead, and something other than Akira to focus on. “By what you’re implying, this dimension still exists because the dead are trying to return to the living. But Aragaki truly was a shadow, meaning…”
Elizabeth summons Yuki’s compendium back into her hands. “The error you’re looking for is very much real.”
“You know more than you’re letting on.”
“Perhaps.”
“You promised to be transparent with me, and yet you’re holding information back.”
“Hmm, I never promised anything. I said I’d try.”
Goro seethes.
“I can see much of what is going on, but like you I cannot see behind the stage curtain. I can assure you I know where Makoto Yuki’s soul lies, and it is not in this false tomb.”
There’s resentment in her words, and a possible motive for her actions. Goro can’t imagine being handed a position like hers: her guest meets an unfortunate end, making all her effort to aid him for naught.
“Why go through the hassle of resurrecting me?” he asks. “Why give me Yuki’s compendium?”
“You’re a very special guest, Goro Ake--”
“You want him back, I presume. The real Yuki. And you think I can help you with that?”
Elizabeth pauses before she speaks. “I want them all back. Iori, Sanada, and dear, dear Shiomi. I also want Dr. Maruki’s dimension gone, so our two realities do not soon collapse in on themselves and destroy all life as we know it.”
It’s like getting doused with ice cold water. “H-How long do we have before that?”
“Who knows, really? Perhaps another year? Another minute?”
If there’s truly no time to waste, then there’s no use worrying about it either. Goro composes himself. “But why help me? Why not use someone else?”
Elizabeth sighs. “There is no one else. So far, you’re the only one to die in Maruki’s dimension. If someone else had sacrificed their life first, I would have gladly chosen them instead.”
Then if that’s true, “The missing persona users are still alive, then?”
“For now. You must hurry, and I will warn you that not all of them are here.”
“Where else could they be?”
“Not all of them live here in Shibuya. They come from all places, big and small.”
Goro catches on immediately. “Inaba.”
“Oh, and there’s one last thing!” Elizabeth reopens Yuki’s compendium, flipping quickly to a page near the back. “When you find those who are missing, you need only release yourself to bring them back home. Will yourself back into the compendium, and a doorway between realities will appear. It won’t stay open long, so make sure you all are ready.”
“How can I possibly do that? And how will I be able to go through?”
“You’ll know. You’ll do fine. And worse comes to worse, I’ll be waiting here should you be unable to figure it out yourself!”
Goro’s jaw tenses. “I’m not feeling very confident about this arrangement.”
“Nonsense.” Elizabeth flips the compendium open to him, an old ink pen materializing between her ring and pinky ringer. “You’re going to do wonders.”
“More like I have to.” He takes the pen.
The instant pen tip meets paper, there’s a tugging sensation in Goro’s chest. He feels compelled forward, each curve drawn into the paper cementing the severity of his commitment. Elizabeth watches him anxiously as he pulls the pen up briefly to start on his last name.
He’s lived famously, briefly, fearfully, and died tragically, stoically, and impulsively. As he finishes printing his name in Yuki’s tome, he wonders what was so remarkable about any of his lives or deaths, except for his immeasurable luck?
The question sticks with Goro as the pen dissolves from his hand and a door creaks open behind him.
Chidori told Junpei one night, while sitting together on the couch as she sketched aimlessly, that he had an artist’s eye. She said it with such certainty, but when Junpei asked her what she meant, she became speechless. The light behind her eyes went dark and Junpei let the subject drop, not wanting her to become trapped in thoughts she no longer had.
Eventually, he was able to figure out what she meant; those who explore emotions for a living have an easier time recognizing them in others. Junpei can’t draw for shit, but he’s been around enough sad sacks in his life to tell when people aren’t doing alright. He knew Goro Akechi was struggling the moment he laid eyes on him, and despite how short of a trip he intended to have in Shibuya, who was he to ignore a kid in need?
Now, with Akechi’s blood and viscera painting the floor, what overpowers his shock and horror is a deep and profound regret.
The stench of iron wafts through the air. There’s no way to describe how horribly sickening it all is. To watch someone so young get blown into a million pieces and have the remains scattered every which way. At least they had their backs turned when Jin went.
Kurusu drops to his knees, mask burning off his face. The kid is quaking, hard enough to fall completely apart. Despite his failure, Junpei falls back on old habits, rushing to the aid of someone else because he’s needed.
He kneels in front of Kurusu, clasping his shoulders tightly. “Look away, kid. C’mon. Focus on me, yeah?”
Kurusu just stares, unblinking. His skin pales ten shades lighter. A dot of blood stains his cheek.
Junpei gives him a little shake. “Hey, hey. Can’t have you going into shock, okay? I need you to breathe with me.” He releases Kurusu long enough to shrug his jacket off and wrap it around the younger man’s shoulders. Once he does, Kurusu doubles over on himself, whimpering as if a gag had been stuffed down his throat. Junpei puts a hand on his back, not knowing what else to do.
Akihiko moves to Junpei’s side. “Shadow’s gone,” he says with a hollow voice.
“No shit...you okay?”
“No.”
“Yeah. Me neither.” Junpei decides to pull Kurusu in close for an awkward half-cradle. “He just...he took the grenade and I--”
Kurusu breaks completely, sobbing uncontrollably. The sound rings hauntingly throughout the chamber. Junpei runs a hand up and down his back.
“Sorry. I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.”
Shirogane approaches, tears streaming down his face. “I’m out of bullets…”
Down two good men, just like that. Akihiko kicks at a chunk of rubble. A minute ago it was a part of the flooring. Just a minute ago. “We’re not getting out of here.”
Reality hits. A familiar dread settles on Junpei’s shoulders. Chidori's face flashes in his mind. “I’m not gonna get to meet my son.”
No one knows what to say to that. They’re all leaving people behind. They’ve let down the ones waiting to be rescued.
Kurusu’s sobs continue, endless. Then--
BANG!
Junpei flinches, reaching for his hip. The evoker isn’t there. He gave it to Akihiko. He expects to find it in his hands, but with one look he realizes Akihiko is unarmed.
Akihiko is looking behind them, stunned. Shirogane gasps, their empty pistol clattering to the ground. Shielding Kurusu still, Junpei looks with them.
What he sees shocks him more than the blast.
Smoke pools out of the evoker’s muzzle, trailing upwards to curl around the metallic legs of Orpheus. The ancient musician floats expectedly, as if waiting to be summoned for quite some time. His metal fingers brush against his harp strings, but do not pull hard enough to draw out sound.
Junpei swears the persona looks right at him, before slipping back into oblivion with a nob.
Below where the persona just hovered, Goro Akechi lowers the evoker.
“I will explain.”
He faints almost immediately after.