Chapter Text
You know, when Igor had asked Akira to go back in time to save a previous guest after his final and epic battle with the false god, Yaldaboth, and had fallen unconscious (and maybe died, because head meet Shibuya pavement), he had some kind of expectations. Maybe something similar to what he experienced when he first arrived in Tokyo. He would hear about some kind of suspicious and unexplainable phenomenon. Then follow the vaguely supernatural trail and just so happen to stumble upon the Persona happenings in the city.
All while being a good transfer student at Gekkoukan High.
He did it once, he could probably do it again.
What Akira had not expected was to find himself in a very concerning situation when he had just so happened to take a midnight scroll that went against his pretty strict sleep schedule. Black coffins stood where people used to be and blood pooled on the ground. And over the entire scene, a full green moon shined down on the entire scene.
Akira ran a hand through his hair and sighed. He pulled out one of his smaller daggers that he always had on his person. He might have had one of his bigger and stronger ones, but those were harder to hide.
Since he didn’t have a frame of reference for what the fuck was going on. Akira decided to treat it like a solo Palace run for the moment. He skirted around the weird new additions to the idyllic Tatsumi Port Island.
He spotted a large, ominous, and very obvious tower in the distance. The greenness of the building matched the vibe of the tower, and it was the other difference between the real world and … wherever he was right now. It was also in the direction of the school, so Akira knew the general way there. So if he was going to get answers about All of This, it was probably going to be at the prominent building.
“There is one of the unusual shadows approaching from the right.” Came Arsene’s voice over the bond they shared.
Akira pushed himself against a wall and peeked around the corner. One of the goopy beings that appeared at midnight shambled around.
His mindscape felt empty without the usual chatter of numerous Personas. It was one of the conditions of Igor’s deal. That any of the masks he had acquired outside of an awakening couldn’t make the journey with him. Akira was still adjusting to the silence left behind, and even the four weeks he’s spent in this new time had not been enough. Six, then eight, then ten, twelve, and now only two remain. Or three. But Akira’s not really sure of the third one counts considering that it’s-
“Is it necessary for you to trawl around like some kind of rat? To lower yourself so far, you are an embarrassment to the title of Godslayer.”
Yaldabaoth.
Akira shared his mindscape with Yaldabaoth now.
The literal God of Control who majorly screwed up his life for the sake of a game. The one he personally shot in the face. The same cognitive being that set up both him and Akechi with the purpose of having them fight and then die at the end.
Yep, that Yaldabaoth.
Why do they get a second chance?
Akira doesn’t know.
He does remember one of Igor’s other assistants, Elizabeth if he remembered correctly, looked very excited at the prospect. She had said something along the lines of ‘What better way to deal with a god like being born of the distorted desires of humanity than another god like being born of the distorted desires of humanity?’ in a sing-song voice.
Her counterpart Theodore had looked less positive about the situation they inflicted on him. Akira liked Theodore.
“Because” Akira said back, “I don’t have enough information about what is going on, and I don’t want to make a careless mistake.”
“So refuse to use any of the power bestowed upon you? You invite death by only relying on the frail strength of a human?” Yaldabaoth said back, sounding almost petulant.
“Are you really trying to start another argument about the ‘inherent weakness of humanity’ again?” Akira mentally bit out as he took a few light steps towards the shadow.
He tuned out the rest of the conversation. He needed to focus on remaining hidden in order to set up an ambush. In his current situation, Akira needed all the advantages he could get.
“I still do not understand how you can defend a species that created me through their own wish for subjugation. And you once again act like you have never thrown yourself into a situation without survival being guaranteed.” Yaldabaoth argued.
The sludge-like shadow was much shorter than Akira was used to. He would have to focus more on horizontal movement instead of vertical movement.
“You say that now O Great Metal Cup, but I know you are aware of the fact that if the Trickster dies, you do as well. You are as mortal as the humans you mock.” Arsene spoke up.
Akira rolled his eyes. Arsene truly enjoyed riling up the false god.
Thankfully, even with that momentary lapse of attention, the shadow still hadn’t noticed him.
He hoped there wouldn't be an elemental disadvantage in the fight.
“You-! That was a revered form that the humans worshiped! The Holy Grail is a divine artifact that your pathetic avian form could not hope to match” Yaldabaoth said, affronted.
“Pathetic!? At least I didn’t voluntarily take the form of a metal sippy cup! I’m not the one whose visage is a scrap metal hazard.” Arsene argued back.
Just a few more steps before the shadow was in range.
“Quiet both of you!” Satanael ordered, his voice carrying over the other two. “This agreement is meaningless. There is no use goading each other when the Trickster has just encountered a scenario that will lead him closer to the goal given. So do not goad each other on, am I clear?”
Now!
Akira sprang forward with his body low to the ground. He gripped the blue mask and tore it off with a flourish.
He jumped back, ready to face down the enemy.
When Akira suddenly felt one of his legs give out.
He slipped on a patch of wet concrete and landed hard right on his hip!
Akira bit out a very eloquent, “Fuck!”
Through the haze of throbbing pain radiating from his hip, Akira knew he had to get up now . Every second counted when in a fight, and he couldn’t allow the advantage of an ambush to be lost just because he slipped.
“Hmmm?” Akira could hear Arsene’s voice, but it didn’t sound worried. His Persona sounded curious instead.
Akira looked up from his half crouch, half fetal position to where the shadow was… dissolving?
All that was left from the shadow was a slowly spreading pile of black goop. The blue mask that Akira had ripped off seemed to be melting into the edge of the goo. It created grey blue streaks throughout the confusing mess in front of him.
It looked like the result of a cooking nightmare.
Akira slowly got up and just kind of stared at the pile. His side hurt, and it was definitely going to be bruised later. He winced as he moved away from the scene.
He tried to make sense of what just happened. Akira had torn off the shadow’s mask, but it hadn’t felt like the insta-kills he was used to. The shadow hadn’t manifested either.
“Perhaps, since this is not the metaverse, your previous techniques have different outcomes? That’s the only thing that comes to mind” Arsene said.
His Persona’s thoughts reflected his own.
“The shadows in my domain were much more resilient. What purpose could weakings like these serve?” Yaldabaoth said derisively.
“Let us continue on, Trickster. There may be answers at the tower.” Satanael calmly pushed.
Akira got moving at that last statement.
Moving carefully, Akira tore through five more shadows on his way to the neon tower. Now that he was closer he could see some details on it. It looked like someone had smashed together at least fifteen different museums and government buildings to create it, along with a couple of clocks here and there.
He was also able to watch what happened to the shadows he defeated (thank you shadow number two, you will be missed). When their mask was ripped off the shadow would just...lose its viscosity? It was like it couldn’t retain its form and spread out like jam from a broken jar. Akira had been a little too close to shadow number two, and had almost lost his shoes to the goop.
The shadows also had never dropped anything. No money or items. Akira had felt the rush of exp, and what might have been a level up, but nothing else.
.
Akira stood in front of the Gekkoukan High school gates and subsequently, the mishmash tower. The tower looked like it grew from the school grounds like a bamboo shoot. It stood tall towards the full moon like a very loud middle finger.
He walked towards the gates. There weren’t any shadows in sight, so he put away his dagger. He reached out to see if the gates were unlocked and could serve as a way in.
“You can’t go in there!”
Suddenly Akira’s hand was wrenched away and held in a crushing grip. He looked up to see-
“Sanada-senpai?”
Sanada Akihiko, the frankly very attractive captain of the boxing team stood there and held Akira’s wrist. The 3rd year who had his own literal fanclub, just appeared in the weird green nightmare that Akira was currently experiencing. Akira thought that the green moonlight somehow didn’t make him look sickly or anything. It instead enhanced his cheekbones and jawline.
Akira’s little bi heart was quite happy to see his senpai. And could you really blame him?
“It’s not safe for anyone to go in there. There’s dangerous things inside that tower.” Akihiko said and stared deeply into Akira’s eyes.
“Okay?” Akira said, and he could feel his face heat up a bit under the upperclassman’s intense stare.
“It’ll be safer in the dorms. Come with me.”
If it wasn’t for the current seriousness of the situation, Akira might’ve taken it as an invitation for something else.
Akihiko turned away from the school gates and began walking towards a building nearby. He still hadn’t let go of Akira’s wrist, so he kind of had to half jog to keep up.
“Sanada senpai, what's going on? There were these sh-” Oh wait, Akira shouldn't know what they’re called, ”ambling things everywhere. And all the people turned into coffins. And the blood, don’t forget all the blood.”
“I would explain, but there's uh-no guarantee that you would remember after the Dark Hour ends.” Akihiko said, and then under his breath, “Why did this have to happen while Mitsuru is out, she would be much better at this.”
“The Dark Hour? Is that the name of this phenomenon? Wonder why it would be named that.” Arsene murmured, sounding just as curious as Akira felt.
“He also mentioned Mitsuru. Do you think it could be Mitsuru Kirijo, the student council president?” Akira replied.
“What do you mean I might not remember? How could I just up and forget this ?” Akira said out loud, using his free hand to gesture to just about everything around them, even though Akihiko probably couldn’t see it.
“Just- It's complicated, I'm not the best person to explain this. Just trust me, okay?”
“O-okay.” Akira let himself be dragged along to the approaching dorm building.
Though he had more questions than answers right now, at least Akira knew more than he did this morning.