Chapter Text
He never noticed when, but the Velvet Room had stopped its music altogether, leaving an eerie instead of soothing sensation. The barbed wire that became his shackles in another plane suddenly felt so uncomfortable in his hand; those restrictions should have had his sister, and he was the one who should have died… or even become what Ryoji should be in the first place.
He felt his gut constricted. The thought that he could have been the very person who would endanger everyone else…
…But thinking like that when you have to pay it with your sister’s life? Really, Minato?
Eventually, Naoya broke the silence, “Whatever you’re thinking right now… don’t ever think that the bonds you have made with everyone were lies. What you felt after that incidence, the life you’ve led until now—all of them are true.”
For a moment, the seal stopped breathing; his reddened gray eyes glanced warily at Naoya, searching for any untruth, because Minato himself certainly did not see it that way. Wasn't this life supposed to be hers in the first place?
As though reading his thoughts, Naoya’s violet eyes gleamed, painfully, though his expression finally returned back to careful composure. Maybe he had sensed all the wrong things that changed inside this blue-haired man and chose to be silent to give him the time to ponder.
“I suppose you won’t understand if you don’t see it for yourself,” he eventually said quietly, his hand then twirled The Devil on its place. They were once again engulfed with white light, as the room changed again into the same checkered-floor room. Before them, they could see the masked Naoya… and his younger self, limp on the ground. The masked man scooted over and kneeled, whispering something in his ear, before summoning the same card that he had pulled away from his sister.
“I used her fate to save you... or should I say, to extend your life.” Naoya said as he watched the scene unfold. Minato was not so deaf to miss the cracks in his words, despite his own confusion. The more moments he spent with this man, the more he realized that Naoya hardly kept himself altogether. As the masked one put her card—her fate—inside his own essence, Minato saw Naoya shrunk onto the sofa, which made him looked more vulnerable than ever.
“I did it, because yours were already set in motion…” Naoya heaved a long-suffering sigh. “You are destined to hinder the Harbinger’s advance, until she is ready. But he foiled the plan.”
As if on Naoya’s cue, the air surrounding them weighed heavier. Minato knew enough that they were not alone in this room… and to prove his suspicion, a black butterfly flew by. The masked man seemed to freeze for a moment and quickly carried the unconscious boy away, before thousands of black butterfly surged out from where he previously stood. In the midst of the storm, Minato could make out a silhouette of a single… man.
The appearance of that man suddenly answered the odd vibe that he had sensed previously when he saw Thanatos and Pharos. There was nothing intimidating from his form—a man with dark short hair, with several locks swiped to the right side of his face, and pinstriped dark business suit. The smile on his face was filled with malice, while his eyes were literally as black as the night with yellow irises. The mere presence of that man seemed to deeply unsettle the masked Naoya.
“Well, well…" the figure eventually spoke, "I never thought there would be a day when Philemon really interferes…”
Naoya’s posture seemed to straighten, but Minato could tell he was growing more on edge. "You force his hand."
"Which is why he resorted to pawns, instead of taking the role of inspiring hierophant, now?" The dangerous man snorted. "Oh Naoya, still so naive. I have known him since the dawn of humanity, I know the games that he plays… and the plans that come with it…"
On his cue, his form flickered to something unrecognizable. The silhouette... resembled more like messy limbs that stemmed from a single source. Masked faces decorated the surface of each limb, with larger ones covering the biggest stump compared to the others. It was the head, Minato thought, because it was the only limb that pointed towards masked Naoya’s direction.
In that moment, Minato could even taste the bitter malice in his lips.
"I believe you have my pawn, Naoya-kun... It would be best to return him back to me," the wickedness in his voice reflected real evil. But the masked Naoya only looked at the monster defiantly as a sure sign of stubbornness.
"Over my dead body, Crawling Chaos."
The beast chuckled, but it came out as rumble of growls and hisses. The other nimble limbs began to slither, clearly prepared to strike given the condition. "Then, I shall take it from your corpse."
Without further warning, the beast quickly charged at the young man with, creating a short whip-slash using its limb. The masked man simply jumped to dodge it and landed several feet away. The attack, however, did not stop at that, as the other limbs turned their utmost attention completely at the young man. One whirled at him at him in a flash, while the other was sprouting fire. Both attacked in succession and crashed on Naoya in a single blow...
...Except, miraculously, masked Naoya had already jumped midair, still carrying his younger self on his shoulder; a giant figure holding a gigantic shield hovered over his body. In a quick movement, the figure quickly leaped towards the main limb and swung his sword upright. But before the blow could came, the beast’s other limb slashed at his persona’s torso, ripping it to slivers of blue and violet.
Minato saw the masked man staggered, but he waved his hand again. Another form hovered before him, still humanoid, this time making gestures as it summoned boulders of rock at the limbs. Yet, as the dust settled, the limbs quickly recovered and bashed at the form. The man reeled as the remains of his Persona scattered again in bluish-violet light.
The rest of the battle went downhill from there.
Minato saw how masked Naoya dodged every strike that was thrown towards him, but he never had the chance to retaliate. And every time he summoned his Personae, the beast would specifically target them, leaving him with nothing but his own physique to defend.
He also saw when Naoya slipped up, creating the perfect opportunity for the beast to cast a blast of tornado (was that Phanta Rei?), just after he summoned his Persona: a green-skinned man wearing outrageous headpiece and holding a golden staff. But Naoya was too slow, and in the end, the figure moved to cover him in a reflex. Naoya’s screech (of despair, of loss, of damage, of hurt, of rage—Minato could name every negative emotion he knew, and not one of them would be enough to depict this emotion) was drowned in the midst of blue and violet that were remains of his Persona.
When the dust settled, the boy was already mask less; the remnants of his butterfly mask already pieces on the floor. Instead of violet eyes, he was met with brown eyes filled with despair… and fear. The emotion was so raw that Minato could even feel the bottomless feeling of losing yourself to death and despair.
Yet, even as he crumbled, the defiance in his eyes stayed. “I am not done yet,” he gasped, “you hear me, I’m not done yet, damn you—!”
He stopped mid-sentence, and Minato held his breath as he saw the limb impaled him on his torso and tucked him to the air, before simply throwing him away. This time, there were no screams; only a loud thud and hisses of pain as Naoya sagged on the checkered floor. His body remained unmoving, but his desperate gaze still lingered at the boy lying helplessly across the room.
“Looks like I need not take him from your lifeless corpse after all,” the beast sneered and picked the boy up, as thousands of black butterflies reappeared and swirled around them, again. “Until next time, Philemon’s pawn.”
Minato was sure that the end was closing, with the Crawling Chaos evil laughter and Naoya’s feeble attempt to protect him, when the unthinkable happened. Just before they were about to disappear completely, his body, still in the beast’s crutch, glowed bluish. He could see his younger self opened his eyes as Thanatos’ form manifested and hovered over him, freeing him as he swung his sword at the beast’ grip. The beast howled, which made the perfect chance for Thanatos to sweep his other self away from his capture and moved over where Naoya lied.
The young man closed his eyes, a thousand of yellow butterflies sweeping into view, before engulfing everything. Naoya and Minato were already gone when they dispersed, leaving the beast alone, rampaging in the room between reality and dreams.
The scenery before them flickered back into the Velvet Room.
For one moment, Minato thought that Naoya was quite human, despite not having aged a day since then.
It was easy for him to put two-and-two together about this man, especially after watching the last projection; this man was related to Philemon, and Philemon was related to Igor. If anything, he could hazard a guess that Naoya Toudou was a denizen of this plane… though he felt that Naoya was more similar to Elizabeth, compared to Igor (no one could compete with that unbelievable nose).
The only difference between her and him was probably his eyes. Even as they changed hues, Minato could sense the humanity that still lingered there.
...But enough of that. Minato managed to suppress the creeping irrational hatred that had been plaguing his mind for the rest of the last projection, regained his composure (his face should have been awful now), and finally asked, “That beast… who is he?”
Minato could feel those violet eyes narrowed, as if trying to refrain from throwing multiple Megidolaons with that stare. For a striking moment, he thought Naoya would do just that (and Minato wouldn’t give a damn, because he had stared death in the face and survived anyway, so there was really nothing to be afraid of). Instead, his eyes travelled back to the tarot spread before him while his right hand flipped open the card nearest to Minato.
“The Devil,” Naoya muttered, and Minato could not halt himself feeling the helplessness and stagnancy that arcana brought him. A bad omen, he once thought.
The young man certainly did not miss the tone of hatred in his voice as he said, "He’s the Devil, the cause of this misfortune, and that’s the only thing that you should know for now.”
“…But why did he have interest in me?”
A twitch. “I will not share to you any information which we could not even verify even now.”
He really wanted to hit this man now. “But he was trying to kidnap me. Surely you have some sort of explanation... a theory perhaps. Don’t I have a say in this?”
The glare remained, but Naoya eventually seemed to relent and brushed the bridge of his nose, muttering something like 'Philemon is going to kill me for this...' before straightening his posture. "That was the Crawling Chaos, an ancient being who wants to disrupt balance of the world—that’s the short version. You and your sister are supposed to play important part to prevent that calamity. He knows the plan, and tries to set fate in motion quicker—he managed to kill both of you, but we could only bring you alone. And now… you must bear the cross."
The explanation was too short and at some level, did not even delve into much detail. “…And I still believe you’re being too vague.”
Naoya lifted an eyebrow, his eyes glinting dangerously as annoyance quickly overrode his previously calm tone, “No, I’m trying to give you more by telling less.”
He did not miss the implicit message of 'don't fucking pursue the matter now', so he let Naoya move his hand to the last card that had yet to be revealed. The dark-haired man flipped it upwards.
The Chariot in upright position. Minato knew full well what this card represented; whenever that card appeared, he was reminded of Kazushi and all the crap he got through, which left him a message about ‘never giving up no matter what happens’.
“Strife,” Minato muttered, and he could see how Naoya grimly nodded in confirmation. “But I thought the journey already ended. Hamuko’s fate…” he gritted his teeth; it was not the time for him to think that he was just a substitute, “…had already been fulfilled.”
His shackles clinked, as if reminding Naoya of his position. But Naoya remained silent as traces of annoyance changed into something akin to wariness.
“Yes, it is true,” he replied, “that you have accomplished something even beyond Phil’s expectations—but this was just part of the beginning, Minato.”
Minato scowled, his restraints clinking noisily as he tried to make a point, “what could be more a hassle than fighting humanity’s death wish, I wonder?”
Naoya only let a tired smile, his eyes wandering away from Minato’s form altogether, as if he could understand what it felt to bear the weight of the world, alone.
“I could only imagine where you stand, Minato. I could only imagine…”
Naoya’s eyes wandered away, towards the door to his right with such longing. Despite all the spite that he held within, along with the tiredness that entailed, he could not let them out when he saw him, lost and still missing. His mind quickly tried to piece together what on Naoya’s mind, because he was supposed to be so expressive, so full of emotions despite his careful mask; they were only in a journey for a short while, but Minato saw enough of Naoya’s arrays of emotions to feel the hollow sensation that emanated from this man when his gaze wandered to that black door (its design was the same as the one that he entered about Hamuko's death), the emotion similar to what he used to have, because—
—that’s the same expression that he saw in his mirror every single day, before SEES came to his rescue and fixed his life. It was the same expression of a person who lost himself (for Minato, he lost his family, and now he learned that maybe it was also because he lost his fate—as cliché as it sounded—as well).
Naoya might have lost three, just from that encounter with the Crawling Chaos.
“...Did they come back to you?” Minato breathed, images of Naoya’s dispersing Personae still burned inside his mind, “...your other selves, I mean.”
He could see how Naoya’s lips turned and formed a bitter smile, “...Yes, though not in the manner you'd like to think. Those parts of me… if I want to really retrieve them back, I need to go on a journey."
There was a pause, and then a playful smirk, "But given my situation now... let’s just say I don’t want to sacrifice a single city just to retrieve my other selves.”
Minato made a face at Naoya’s feeble attempt to joke. The other man simply chuckled, his smile turned a less sullen, “Looking back, it was quite foolish for me to contend the devil himself. I should have ran when I got the chance, but in the end, you unknowingly saved my life…”
Minato could feel his gaze on him, again, his bitter smile turned into something akin to nostalgia—like he was not seeing him, but an entire different person. For some reason, he knew what that meant, and Minato sighed “…I’m not her, either, Naoya.”
A blink, a pause, and then another sigh.
“…I know,” his smile gentler than ever, “because, even if she was a true Fool, she couldn’t have summoned Thanatos to save my life. He reminded her too much of you… and she never wanted you to take the fight.”
Minato wanted to ask what he meant by that, but he restrained himself as he noticed the music in the room started to resume. This time, it was not the Gymnopédie, but rather, the usual song that played whenever he met with Igor and Elizabeth.
“And so… time marches on in the real world,” he said, taking the similar enigmatic tone that Igor used to use on him. His right hand picked up the half-faced butterfly mask—the same one that Philemon had—and put it back on his face. In that one peculiar moment, Minato thought for a moment that perhaps he never conversed with Naoya in the first place; only his smirk that convinced Minato otherwise. “It would be best for you to return.”
Even then, he could feel his consciousness fading away as his own body tugged for its host. How could he be the seal with unimaginable power to contend with humanity’s death wish but still be whisked away so easily from this realm… it was just beyond him. But he managed to hold on to semblance of awareness, because there was one question that still needed answering.
“Why tell me all of this?”
Naoya only smiled, a hint of endearment, like a brother. For that one single moment, Minato actually believed that, yes, Naoya was actually looking out for him.
"This is my way of saying thanks, kid. Besides, you earn the right to know the truth."
And everything faded to black, the melody of his soul carried his consciousness back to the world of living.
The red tinge of setting sun hurt his eyes even if they were closed in the first place.
He woke up to the sound of his headphone blaring, the words "burn my dread" reminded him of the last fight they had against death. The soft brown plafond was a sure sign that he was in his room, instead of in the Tatsumi Port Station. The soft texture of the bed under him... he was really on his own bed.
Minato quickly rose out of his bed and quickly sought for his cell phone (which was practically still in the right pocket of his trousers, the same place where he left it before he encountered Naoya), and looked closely at the date. Still 28th of February. Not a day had passed since his little trip down the lane, which was quite an impressive feat, since the last time something like this happened… well, he was knocked out cold for two days.
Then again, he never really understood the flow of time between that plane and the living, so he should not be really surprised.
Someone suddenly knocked on the door.
“Coming,” he shouted, carefully wearing his blank expression (he need to do this; he was too overwhelmed but could not break down right now), before quickly moving towards the door and greeted whomever it was standing there. He was not really amazed when he saw Aigis standing there; heck, he could even bet that she had her ammunitions ready to handle intruders, because he himself should not be at home during this hour.
Her optics widened, as though her theory was completely thrown out of window (and as he expected, her fingers were ready to shoot bullets), “Oh, I’m sorry for bothering you, Arisato-san. I thought you were an intruder.”
The degree of formality that she used hurt him the most, despite knowing that it was not really her fault. Before their final ascent to the top of Tartarus, he remembered Mitsuru’s words: they might not even remember the things that happened during the dark hour after it disappeared. But now, he hoped in the back of his mind that Aigis might remember parts of them. After all, surely anti-shadow units had recording capability installed in their optics.
She certainly crushed his hope.
“No,” he simply replied, carefully choosing his words. One more inconsistency, and her circuits might sniff that something is fishy. “I decided to come home early. It had been a tiring day.”
Her face still gave off no emotion, but Aigis eventually nodded. Since when had she been so hard for him to read? “Understood. Please forgive my intrusion, then Arisato-san… and have a good rest.”
She bowed a little too hastily, before quickly taking her leave. Minato stared at the empty spot in front of him, still incapable of doing anything; because Aigis was just checking on him and all of her gestures were off, as if she was trying to avoid him altogether.
If it wasn’t for Mitsuru’s words echoing inside his head, he would have thought Aigis might have retained her memories.
The gears in his mind kept on spinning, even as he closed the door and went back to lie down on his bed. There were so many things to think over—about his past, the life that he had led, the strife that he might have to endure for the rest of eternity, about Naoya’s tale and the crawling chaos (how legit was his story anyway?), his friends and their story of dark hour, the promised day—that he eventually groaned and covered his eyes.
Eventually, Minato opened his eyes once again and looked at the calendar above him. The red circle marking March 5 of 2010 caught his eye; their promised day was almost at his doorstep.
A part of him wanted to believe that they will be there. Yet the other part of him—the one that occupied the previously empty part of his mind, lulling him with sweet Bolero again and again—whispered hopeless but realistic things in his mind.
When he closed his eyes, all he could see was the silhouette of Messiah, but he noticed how his white garments had partially turned silver and how Orpheus’ lyre was on his left hand—a reminiscence of his previous life. His red eyes were blank, his mouth moved to form words, and Minato accept those words as true, even before he could hear the words.
I am thou. Thou art I.
Thou were broken. Thou art whole.
I shall wait for thee,
at the end of this journey.
Waking up in the next day felt harder than he expected.
The morning of March 1st seemed so much hazier for him than the previous day. Perhaps it had something to do with how the chains inside his mind clinked into a link, coiling around the edge of his consciousness. A part of him felt the rumble of a beast, while the other felt the beatings so heavy that he wanted to just drop anywhere and sleep. Preferably, he would not wake up...
But that's just too grim.
At least the greys around him were gone; color returned to him with such vibrancy that his heart welled. Never would he experience such emptiness before, as long as this gift returned to him. He wished for this daily (colorfulcheerfulmusical—) life to continue.
He could draw comfort from that knowledge alone.
He almost refused to wake up in the start of March 4th. The only thing that prevented him from skipping class at all was Naoya Toudou, who miraculously appeared inside his room like Pharos did several full moons ago, sitting on his bed. The pity in his eyes was apparent, but his lips never failed to form a full smile. “School is starting, you lazy bump. Get up already.”
“...I won’t even ask how you appear out of nowhere into this room, but there is this thing called courtesy,” he muttered, noticing how the chain links in his mind continued to clunk and tightened around his consciousness; the seal readjusted constantly, because his full consciousness was still not back at the sea of souls. “And if you’re a decent guy altogether, you should have knocked the door first before entering.”
He did not even have to look at Naoya to know that he was smiling; the sound of his snickers was proof enough. Minato eventually sat up and rubbed his eyes, so that he could focus on the man sitting on the side of his bed. “Why are you here in the first place, anyway?”
Naoya’s violet eyes glint uneasily as he summoned The Fool tarot card from his right hand—the same card that had appeared previously in his spread. “Remember our discussion about how your journey has just started? How conflicts were closing in on us all in the near future?”
Minato nodded in confirmation. Naoya closed his hand, the card turned into a wisp of yellow orb as he did so. Naoya still looked straight at Minato and handed the orb over to him, “that time is almost upon us. Please give this to one person whom you trust the most.”
Naoya could see the question flashed in Minato’s face even before he asked, to Minato’s bafflement, “It’s the Wild Card potential—or at least, a shard of it.”
Minato blinked at the man, as though he had grown a second head. “...since when have you given away free wild card abilities?”
Naoya chuckled and put the card on his hand anyway, “technically, it’s not really free, since it is fashioned from your own shards of power… or technically, her power. I figure you wouldn't be using it any longer."
Minato so wanted to hit him right there and then for bringing up about Hamuko at this early morning—and he did, though it might have passed for a shove instead of a real punch. He noticed how his physical power had dwindled so much compared to when he first battled the first Full Moon Shadow.
It did not even faze Naoya at all, in fact, but concern quickly changed his expression; he was no genius, but even Naoya could see how bad the extent of his seal affected him. “Don’t give up now, not when the finish line is near,” he said and pointed his gaze to the calendar behind Minato.
“I know you feel so tired,” he paused for moment and sighed, “I know, for a fact, that staying like this for just a moment further weighs down your soul. But just do it. Just push until there’s nothing left, alright? Because this might be the last time… so make it count.”
Strangely, Minato felt that Naoya was talking more about himself. The way he avoided Minato’s look altogether was as though his mind was on another trip down the lane.
Not a moment after, Minato could feel the final link in the sea of souls—the link that bound his soul to the great seal—clunk into place, calling him back to where he should be. But Messiah kept on playing that tune, as if reminding him to go on and stay until the end. So Minato just nodded in reply.
He stood up, a smile on his face, after receiving his confirmation. “Well then. I’ll see you later.”
And just like that, the young man dispersed into wisps of yellow light and flew out of his room, forming a trail of miniature yellowish butterfly, his goodbye was a definite signal of how uncertain the future held.
March 5th— the promised day —started with a knock on his door, and a stricken Aigis at his doorstep.
The knowledge that Aigis had always known made him smile, a relief in the midst of uncertainty (because the promise would be meaningless if no one remembered—and he couldn’t bear that). She told him of how scared she was when they thought he was going far away, but Minato only shook his head and told her not to worry.
Aigis urged him to skip graduation speech—which already started anyway, so he did not feel particularly guilty about it—so they could wait for the others to come. She even pushed him to lie down on the seating, so that his head could lay on her lap, her affectionate face hovering over his own. He could see how her blue optics blurred by her restrained tears, and even then, her hand kept on patting his head gently—affectionately—as though he was the most precious treasure in the world.
Minato closed his eyes to feel it—and to fight the chains that called him back to his duty.
He could hear her confession of the things that she had learned during their time preventing the Fall. He knew every gaps that translated not only to sadness and hurt, but also relief and gratitude. Her words felt like a promise—a guarantee that one day, this would end, because they’ll protect him, they will always protect him, no matter what fate he must bear.
“I want to be your strength.”
He opened his eyes sleepily, seeing how the dam was going to break anytime soon.
“I know I'm not the only one who can do this... but that's okay. My life will be worth living if it's for this reason... Thank you…”
His hand reached out to her face, despite feeling so tired… so beaten… and yet, it finally reached the mechanical face, wiping her tears away as they fell. Every brush was power, and every word he uttered next, a promise disguised with encouragement.
“Don’t cry, Aigis…”
But more droplets fell from those blue optics, and Minato could see how that face contorted with sorrow. The blue-haired teen could not bear to see it, so he gently rubbed her cheek—anything to make her smile.
Don't be sad... I will always be with all of you...
And she did smile, despite her fallen tears, and reached to hold his hand. Even her grasp felt so surreal for him—the cold steel on his hand did not even make him flinch. Being able to feel at all brought him a measure of comfort.
"You're right. What am I doing? I understand now, so I should be happy..."
He could hear the sound of his friends in between the rustle of the wind, Aigis' whispers of her promise, and that soft flutter of butterfly wings inside of him in sync with Messiah's hum.
He was so tired... so... tired...
"Thank you for everything... You must be tired. Please get some rest... I'll stay right here with you..."
But he forced himself to smile with all his strength, because Aigis did so too despite her sorrow. So he silently nodded and closed his eyes, the quiet words of thank you remained unsaid.
The soft tune of Gymnopédie inside himself slowly skidded to a halt, and then faded to silence.
I am thou. Thou art I.
I will always be with thee.
In the checkered room where reality and dreams intertwined, Naoya Toudou watched as the last vestige of Minato's identity faded away from the realm of living. He was not alone—in the presence of Philemon, no one was truly alone. But his physical representation in this plane at least made his presence a little more concrete. It also helped him to start conversation, and in particular, about a certain young man who had given himself up to stave away humanity's death wish.
"Your Rook served its purpose," he started, prompting a conversation that might bit him back in the end. It was always dangerous to make comments about the game with this entity, especially when he himself knew that this entity moves the world. Of all things, Naoya might comment about recruiting another Wild Card, and Philemon might just do that despite his words being a joke. Then, he would say that it's Naoya’s responsibility.
"True." A heavy silence hung in the air, "But not without sacrificing my Bishop."
Naoya let out a hollow chuckle, images of Hamuko’s young face flashed in his head, along with her possible futures. But she's dead and that pathway would forever be locked down. For Philemon to note her only as a bishop, it was outrageous. To him, she was never the Bishop; she was the Queen: the key to victory, the whisperer of King, and the mover of empire. She was the Fool, the favored one; she should be valued as more than just a bishop.
"Surely you have enough pawns to cover your missing Bishop. Hell, I have even introduced you another piece to the game... only because he deemed her worthy."
The man turned towards Naoya, his expression mirrored Naoya’s face perfectly, "She'll make a fine Knight. But for now, let us focus to the other pawns."
Images of a small city flashed through his mind, and with it, a silver-haired teen that he knew. Naoya’s violet eyes gleamed dangerously. "You're set to turn him into a Queen."
The idea made him nauseous, because there would be another journey set for that boy (another Fool) and who knew how much blood would be spilled, how many battles would they have to wage against their common enemy—there were simply too many variables to maintain.
"Only because he introduced more pieces to the board," he looked back at Naoya, his cold and calculating brown eyes a reminiscence of his life before his immortality. "We're strained enough as it is," when Philemon gazed at him, it felt like ice cold water washed over his being--a reminder of what had came to pass, "you who have witnessed humanity's history from its dawn, Naoya Toudou, tell me this: is humanity at the peak of its potential? Have order triumphed, so far?"
Naoya bit back his tongue, knowing all too well that even the subconsciousness of the people yearned for chaos. Erebus was one of the proofs.
Philemon turned around, his back facing the young man, "it does not matter if I were to lose this game; fate will turn, time will move forward, new pieces will enter, but humanity will forever be set back from enlightenment. If you really want to better humanity's fate, Naoya Toudou, I advise you remember the reason you've given me when you decide to enter. Remember the price that you paid. Remember the lengths you'd promised me to go."
Naoya’s feature tensed slightly as images of his past quickly flashed before him—the faces of Velvet Room's denizens, the friends he fought with, the demon world that descended unto the living world, the price he had paid—everything that he had sacrificed to gain the power and right to dwell in this realm.
"Humanity's fate might as well rest on your shoulder, my Knight. Choose your strategy wisely. "
Philemon disappeared in swirls of thousand butterflies, leaving the young man alone.
Naoya’s violet eyes gleamed with sorrow, the thought of Philemon’s eventual plan trapped him in self-loathing. As his violet eyes settle on the image of Yu Narukami, he whispered, "Forgive me, Hamuko. I might as well drag your other friend into battle once more."
In betwixt of reality and dreams, Naoya Toudou felt the air shifted for a moment as he heard giggles of a familiar young woman. Perhaps it was just his imagination, but Naoya really believed that, for one moment, that young woman had given him her blessing. The young man closed his eyes, mouthed a "thank you," and let the image of Yu Narukami in front of him flickered to nonexistence.
It was time to start the game, again.
And so, fate chooseth her champion once more.
