Chapter Text
Amamiya Ren was nothing short of brilliant. He was a master strategist with unparalleled resolve. For every possible scenario, he laid out contingencies for contingencies, and time and time again, he had the courage to face each and every one of his life-threatening plans with a smug grin.
So why was it now that, as he stared down the barrel of Akechi Goro’s pistol with wide eyes and sweat in his palms, Ren felt truly terrified for the first time in his life?
Even as his family gave up on him, even as he fought for his life in the Metaverse, even as he was captured by a mob of police officers, Ren had never felt a single ounce of fear, but now, as he gave up his life to Akechi, he finally understood what true and utter despair felt like.
…where had it gone wrong?
Despite every advantage, despite the Phantom Thieves constantly being one step ahead of Akechi for months, the plan had failed. Ren had already known it would fail the second Sae walked into the room without his phone, but he had hoped—prayed—that somehow, someway, Futaba would still be able to slip Akechi into the Metaverse.
He was so, so wrong.
“Case closed,” Akechi said, a twisted smile creeping up his mouth.
The gun made a slight clicking noise as Akechi toyed with the trigger, twitching his finger lightly as if to taunt his victim in his final moments.
Ren, as his life flashed before his eyes, thought of Ryuji and how they would never laugh together again.
He thought of Morgana and how they would never again sleep in the quiet comfort of Leblanc.
He thought of Ann and how he would never be there to see her become an internationally acclaimed model.
Of Yusuke and how he would never see his magnum opus displayed at a museum.
Of Futaba and how he would never be able to take her to Akihabara to buy a new monitor.
Of Haru and how he would never see her café open.
Of Kasumi and how he would never see her perform at an international competition.
…of Makoto and how he would never have the chance to apologize for not coming home safely.
He looked up at Akechi, pleading silently with his eyes to spare his life. He was met with nothing but a sinister glare, one filled with nothing but spite and anger for the world that had disgustingly tormented him since birth.
Maybe in another life, they could have been friends. Maybe, they could have found understanding and comfort in each other. Maybe, they could have worked together to tear down the system that so desperately wanted both of them to suffer. Maybe.
Now, however, was no time for maybes. Now was simply a fleeting construct of time to Ren, who was frozen with naught but the cold, sadistic voice of Akechi to cut through the glacier of his mind.
“This is where your ‘justice’ ends.”
In an instant, Akechi’s face was replaced by infinite nothingness. In the last recesses of his consciousness, Ren felt blue velvet dissolve into a black abyss, with the sound of desperate screams and banging metal slowly fading away.
The last thing he heard before slipping into the darkness was a deep voice, so familiar yet so foreign. It said only seven words, none of which made any sense to a being whose existence was ceasing to be.
“My apologies, Trickster.” A chilling laugh rang out. “The game is over.”