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Chapter Text

The February winter chills enters through LeBlanc and seethes itself into Ren’s veins as it freezes his entire body. He is unable to utter another word as Maruki walks out of the café, a calling card resting heavily in his pocket. Doubt simmers in his mind as the revelation weighs down more on him than initially anticipated. He could take what he said back, accept the deal during the final confrontation against his once therapist. Let his friends, family, confidants, and Akechi get their happy ending he believes they rightfully deserve.

However, he knows fully well that he would be betraying the Phantom Thieves’s morals, everything they have accomplished so far, Sumire’s decision to carry on her sister’s legacy as her true self, Goro Akechi’s wish to cut his puppet strings and finally be free. It would be terribly selfish of him to accept Maruki’s deal at the last minute. He was once offered a similar deal by another god, Yalbadoath, and refused his offer, instead deciding to rebel against sloth for the good of humanity. And here he is, having to turn down another tempting offer, this time for his rival.

He can hear Morgana talking to him, but he is too deep inside his head to listen to him, telling himself to breathe slowly, keep his poker face. He starts to play with the fringes of his bangs to calm himself down and hide behind his frame, but to no avail he feels himself starting to break as, eyes water a bit and chews on the inside of his cheeks. The fate of the world once again rests in the hands of teenagers who just wanted to do a bit of good, he bitterly laughs.

Dizziness distracts him as his vision blurs a bit and he starts to feel himself drift off until a headache suddenly explodes in the back of his skull, a feeling of agony more intense when he experienced his awakening all the way back in spring. It pulses following the rhythm of his frantic heartbeat.

Akechi and Morgana notice their leader’s sudden discomfort as Ren miserably drags himself into Leblanc’s tiny restroom, grabbing some of Takemi’s painkillers. After desperately chugging more pills than what she recommends, he dunks his head underneath the sink, letting the ice cold water hit him for a few minutes to hide his reddening eyes. He feels a bit nauseous but not enough to empty out his stomach. Trying to regain his composure in the mirror, his reflection looks back with a golden judgmental gaze. Ren jumps with a yelp as his reflection copies him with grey exhausted unfocused eyes. He feels so pathetic.

“Are you okay in there?” he hears Morgana worry.

Ignoring the strange feeling, he returns to them, rationalizing it as stress and anxiety, who could blame him honestly.

“I’m doing fine, just had a small mishap, nothing too serious.” Ren poorly lies while avoiding their doubting gaze.

“I’d like to speak with him.” Akechi asks, obviously noticing the leader’s lies but dropping it since they have more pressing matters at the moment.

“B-But.” The feline protests.

“Morgana, it will only take a few minutes.” Ren reassures.

He reluctantly agrees, his ears and tail dropping and leaving him and Akechi alone in the café. 

“We are refusing his deal. I want you to tell me right now we are refusing his deal.” Akechi states.

“...” 

The answer stays stuck within Ren’s throat, lodged in his vocal cords as he desperately tries to respond, but questions start to engulf him. What if he was able to save Akechi in the engine room? What if he was fast enough to drag him on the other side of that wall? What if he was strong enough to eliminate the twisted cognition? What if he could have convinced him to join them sooner? What if he reached out his hand more to him? What if they met sooner? What If?

“Your silence right now tells me you are indecisive, you are betraying my wish Joker. I will not become another puppet for a madman to control, not after finally escaping that bastard’s grasp.” Akechi seethes at him, irritated at Ren’s silence and avoidance to look at him.

“...”

“Don’t forget everything I did Joker. All the lives I took, the pain I inflicted on your merry band of thieves. Don’t think I’m blind to how the others act around me while in Maruki’s palace, especially Okumura and Sakura. Being shown mercy after all of this, having you pity me for my circumstances, letting me live after all the crimes I committed.”

“I-I don’t.” Ren can’t hear himself over Akechi’s rising anger.

“And even after everything, you still insist on inviting me to the Jazz Jin bar or go play darts and billiards in Kichijoji. Have you forgotten? I was the one who put a bullet in your head. Or did your hero complex made you so delusional that you would fold over some bullshit trivial threat on my life?”

“Your life isn’t trivial!” Ren loudly snaps, effectively shutting him up.

A sudden shade of red overtakes his vision as the pulsing returns at the back of his head but not painful this time. Gold once again blinks in his irises but goes by unnoticed as a strange feeling of rage and wrath starts to boil in his head and he can’t focus as he recalls past events. The dread when the thieves fell for Okumura’s trap, the bitterness when Akechi blackmailed his way into the group, the sadness and sleepless nights when realizing Akechi’s true intention and pain when he eventually betrayed them.

Hatred starts to cloud Ren’s vision, as he thinks of how easy it would be to resent Akechi. God, everything would be less complicated, stressful and nerve racking if he just despised him. Treat him like any other corrupted adult on their list. However, Akechi is just like them. An outcast who was rejected by the justice system, passed around in foster homes and labelled as an illegitimate child. He was but a lonely child who failed to receive unconditional love. Someone who just wanted to be accepted by anyone, another teenager who grew to curse the world and rebelled in their own, morbid, way. Someone who Ren had the time to understand, listen to his point of view, even if they may disagree on thing. Someone he had and made time to spend with.

Ren starts thinking of the hilarity when he disguised Akechi so they could spend more time at the cafe without his adoring fans in the way. The delight when they both celebrated Sumire’s gymnastic accomplishment at that same café. The vulnerability when Akechi shared a bit about himself and family situation while they soaked in the public baths. The amusement when they visited the aquarium together and watched the penguins while Akechi recited fun facts about them. The challenge whenever they played billiards, 701 on darts, chest at LeBlanc. The relaxing atmosphere when they went to Jazz Jin to catch a performance or when Akechi stopped by LeBlanc to simply enjoy a cup of coffee. The adrenaline when they dueled in Momentos, when they explored inside Nijima’s Casino, when they performed a showtime in Maruki’s palace. All of the moments when they hung around each other.

The negative emotions within Ren dissipated, only to leave him with sadness at the uncertain fate of his friend. He knows he would reject Maruki’s offer, because Goro Akechi has asked him to. 

“We are not arguing about my life right now, I won’t wait a moment longer. Answer me Ren!” 

“We are stopping Maruki.” He finally looks at him and notices his shoulders relax from the high tension. 

“But just so you know, even after everything you have done, your life isn’t trivial Akechi. Stop trying to make us hate you when some still care about you. Sojiro brews your coffee with his best beans and makes sure you receive extra curry, Sae still asks Makoto about your well being. Muhen enjoys your visit whenever we go to the bar and even asks me how you are doing sometimes. Some of the thieves enjoy exploring Mementos and battling shadows with you, despite your violence and all.”

Ren’s voice becomes quieter.

“I like being your rival and spending time with you. Challenging each other with any games, competing over who can slaughter the most shadows, debating philosophy, morals or whatever we feel like talking about. Battling on equal grounds, knowing we have each other's back in the Metaverse and performing our showtime. Your actions aren’t forgotten, the pain you inflicted on everyone, even me, will never be brushed under the rugs. Some might not forgive you for what you have done, and they never will, but that doesn't mean your life is worth nothing.” Ren says, keeping his eyes on widened crimson red.

After a brief silence, the both of them taking in everything, Akechi finally lets a small grin tug at the corner of his mouth.

“Thank you, I am relieved to hear this. I’m done being manipulated. Let’s go back, Ren, to our true reality.” Akechi feels warmth spread across his chest, as Hereward emerges from Robin and Loki, standing proudly with fire in his eyes. “What’s a life worth in a reality that was cooked up just to satisfy someone else? I say none. We have to win this no matter what.”

Before Akechi leaves, Ren throws his glasses at Akechi as he catches it swiftly, looking at him with confusion.

“Back in November, you threw me your glove as a symbol of rivalry. I still hold it as a promise to keep challenging each other. I will not give up faith that one day I can give it back once our duel is fulfilled. So I hope you can do the same someday. Come find me, I will wait for however long it takes.”

And with that, Akechi leaves LeBlanc with genuine content plastered over his face and pockets the gift. Ren watches him disappear in the streets of Yongen Jaya with a bittersweet warmth. There’s no going back now, he thinks, and prepares for tomorrow's battle. Little did they know what awaits them.

Chapter Text

After Joker delivers the final blow to Adam Kadmon, the bright torch burning in his hand and the world crumbling underneath, Mona transforms into a helicopter to safely escort everyone out. Suddenly, one of the strange tentacles grabs onto the vehicle as Joker dangles from the grappling hook. Gasps and panic quickly ensues within the very cramped space. Maruki looks at them from beneath and starts to bring them down with some unfinished business.

Without second thought, Joker lets go of the rope and freely plummets from the sky, shouts of his name echo from above, as he lands to confront his ex-therapist one last time while holding the glowing torch in his hand. 

Both clearly exhausted from battle and looking worse for wear, exchange silence before Maruki starts.

“Sorry to cut your flight short like that, this place is done for, alongside this reality.” He loosened his grip on his golden staff, letting it fall loudly during the quiet moment, his white cape sways in the wind as their surroundings crumble. “I know I’ve lost, there is no point in trying to take my treasure back. But even so, I need your help with one last request.”

He visibly tenses at Maruki's request.

“Don’t worry, it’s nothing of the sort. On the contrary, this is actually going to sound very stupid of me but I have been suppressing this for too long, hiding it from myself. Please, help me kill every single one of my regrets.” Maruki pleads.

“Very well.” Joker replies. Even after everything, he can’t find himself to refuse the last request of his wish granting therapist.

Maruki reverts back to his white jacket, positioning himself in a battle stance, mask and outfit completely gone. He also feels his mask leave from his face as it turns into blue particles, leaving him bare. Placing down the torch out of their reach, he relaxes in his battle stance and readies himself against him.

They exchange hits and punches, vents, sorrow, frustration releases from Maruki’s raw cries. Neither have summoned their personas to fight, letting their fists talk as they mark bruises that will turn black and blue. Ren deals the final blow, punching the glasses off of his face and letting it clatter to the ground. Maruki lets his fatigue wash over him and his legs give out.

He hits the floor as he lies on his back and reaches his hand outwards to the somber sky as snow falls delicately, catching a snowflake that immediately melts in his gloved hand. Cracks start to form on the platform, but Maruki does not move, having completely given up, and lets himself fall as the platform breaks down beneath him. Ren runs and manages to catch Maruki on the very edge, a tight grip on his hand desperately trying to not let him fall.

“Come on, I said I’m done.” Maruki replies weakly but does not try to climb back onto the stable surface. “Please, let go of my hand.”

Ren struggles as the weight of Maruki starts to become harder to pull back. He starts to feel it again, that pulse in his head as waves after waves become stronger, more powerful and painful. Once again he starts to see that crimson shade overtake his vision, completely blinding him a few times. An uncomfortable sensation invades his body, that same feeling from yesterday, anger and rage doubling and spreading like a wildfire in his mind. He desperately fights back, trying to regain control over his body as he feels his right hand move on its own, loosening his grip on Maruki. 

He grips back harder this time, not letting go of him before he feels it again, this time more forceful, violent, and angry. As if it developed a consciousness of its own. His left arms violently shakes and twitches, almost like he’s lost control of his limbs. Abruptly, his limbs numb, his thoughts dissipate as black spots start to overtake his vision. He feels a loud thump, footsteps rushing towards them and clawed gauntlets on his shoulder as he is being pulled from the edge, his hand still clinging onto Maruki’s hand.

“Joker!” A distressed yell tries to snap him out of his state, but he hears a voice that deafens him from his surroundings.

I found you!

It starts with the same feeling from when Yaldabaoth erased them from existence. His body weakens tremendously and his hold on the ex-therapist slips. Takuto Maruki falls into the abyss as everyone watches in horror. From here, everything that can go wrong turns for the worst as he starts to disintegrate. His legs become transparent, only to vanish as pieces of himself detach. He cries out as remnants of his body parts float in the air. Akechi, aghast at the scene, keeps a tighter hold on Ren’s shoulder as his other hand frantically tries to catch the debris of their leader, only to have them pass right through him.

The fragments strangely start to clump together, forming a blurry figure. Bit by bit, he loses his legs, his torso, his arms and hands as the silhouette becomes more human, distinct, recognizable. The last thing Ren sees isn’t the familiar black coat swaying in the wind, the flashy red gloves that cover it’s hands, the sinister white pearled smile it gives nor the golden eyes gleaming behind a domino mask, underneath a crown of raven hair, but Akechi’s shattered look and distraught as he fades away.

The newly formed figure moves his leg, his hand and arms, testing his limbs before glowing eyes scans the collapsing room and finally lands his gaze on his target.

“At last, we meet again, detective, although it seems you have had a wardrobe change.” A familiar voice drops in a venomous honey tone.

Without a second thought, Akechi immediately draws his gun towards the fake and shoots, not in the right condition to process his strange wording. He dodges with the same flare their leader has, unfazed by the ammos.

“How ironic, to think I’d be greeted by a bullet.” The doppelganger playfully says. 

“What have you done with him? Who are you?” Akechi barks, his rage overshadowing despair.

“My, my, detective, I am insulted, isn’t it obvious? I am Joker.” He responds with false hurt.

Not willing to put up with the figure’s lies, Akechi lunges. He effortlessly sidesteps the assault. His eyes gleamed playfully as if they were stage fighting. The others, previously inside the Monacotper, join Akechi on the platform with weapons in hand and a mix of confusion and worry on their faces.

“BULLSHIT! Answer truthfully and maybe I will spare you a painless death.”

“Spare me? Now that’s comedy. I didn’t know you did stand-up as a side job detective.” He casually laughs. “Like I said I am Jok-” Before he could finish his sentence, Akechi sends a powerful Riot Gun towards him, missing, yet he manages to damage the ends of his tailcoat.

“No you're fucking not!” Akechi argues.

“You are starting to piss me off, detective.” Joker’s irritation simmers, an annoyed grimace makes itself present at the rude interruption. “You didn’t have to damage my costume.”

“That can’t be, there's no way in hell you’re Joker.” Some of the thieves call out against the imposter.

“How dare you use our leader’s name.”

“Yeah right, what nonsense are you talking about.”

“Ain’t no effin way your him!”

Before any more protest can come out of the other’s mouths, Joker, clearly having lost all patience and playfulness, shoots several rounds into the air, demanding their attention.

“SHUT UP! SHUT UP! SHUT UP! SHUT UP!” He tantrums. “Goddammit! You guys are ruining everything! What kind of audience interrupts the actors in the middle of a play?” 

Everyone finally shuts up, letting him finish his sentence, mostly from shock at his demeanor doing a full 180.

“Thank you. Now, like I said.” He takes a big breath to calm himself, settling back into his role and gives a nice bow like his violent outburst hadn’t just happened. “I am Joker, leader of the Phantom Thieves of Heart. The dangerous criminal, falsely accused of assault. The trickster, imprisoned by fates. The vigilante who changed the hearts of the corrupted.” His smile is full of teeth and malice, eyes glowing like the sun. He waits a few seconds for the tension to rise, before dramatically dropping the bomb. “Akira Kurusu, the fool who tragically met his end at the hands of Goro Akechi.

Silence surrounds the room as breath is cut from everyone, not even gasps of shock. No one dares to let a sound escape their lips as they all turn white as a sheet, staring at the reminder of a past no one dared to bring up. Especially Akechi, finally facing one of his biggest nightmares that has haunted him ever since that day. Visions of velvet hands strangling his last breath in a vengeful rage, shrills and cries from a deceased boy as he drags him into the inferno. Infinite wails, an ocean of red and sorrow trailing after his footprints, and the sound of blood dripping, like a broken faucet, until it drives him mad.

“Now I am certain you are all wondering why I am here. Sadly, I do not have the time to recite the full novel, but know that I was pitied enough, be it a god or demon, to finally have my wish granted.” Akira’s gaze fixes towards Akechi. He feels himself sink beneath the sinister yellow and shakes violently. “And. It. Starts. With. YOU!”

An unhinged crazed laugh unleashes as Akira rips his mask off, the familiar sound of a persona being summoned vibrates as they hear his call. “Come! Monte Cristo!”

A humanoid being appears behind him, with an elegant midnight purple long coat and an almost carpet like flower pattern vest resting on its chest with a few golden tassels. Long hair wildly sways in the wind as two horns, replacing its ears. curls around like a ram’s. The pale eyeless face only widens its sharp mouth as a small flaming goatee rests underneath. A top hat rests on the persona’s head and shredded bat wings flap behind the figure. It creates a strong gust of wind that knocks everyone except Akechi off the platform, leaving him alone while the others follow the same fall Maruki did. Screams descending into the void until there is nothing.

“Well, looks like it’s time. Why don’t you give one last dramatic monologue.” Akira taunts him.

Akechi needs to snap himself out of it, he needs to move, get away from this crazed and vengeful man. But his body remains frozen solid, uncooperative. He sees himself back at the time he first discovered the Metaverse, the dread of fear and helplessness crowding his brain kicking his fight or flight response. His life flashes once more before his eyes, just like back then in the engine room. Only this time, he sees something else. A butterfly as bright as the sun, as it flutters towards him and lands on his chest. He feels the familiar presence of Robin Hood and Loki settle back in him, like two pieces in a puzzle, taking space alongside Hereward. Rebellion rises in his guts and a fire blazes in his heart. The sentiment is different from an awakening. The butterfly disappears, but not without leaving a message.

I shall always watch you from within

Akechi isn’t going down without a fight. Be it Ren, Joker or another version of him, he refuses to lose. He embraces the familiar feeling of fury, madness and chaos overtake him as he channels a different state of berserk. More controlled, focused and powerful, compared to Loki’s, and charges directly with full intent to kill.

“Enough with the bullshit theatrics! Bring him back before I rip you to shreds and send your head back to where you came from!”

He catches a slight look of surprise and displeasure from Akira before it vanishes immediately. He recognized the same facial control he used during his celebrity days.

“So, these are your true colors, detective. I never knew you had such a vulgar tongue. To think you held such bloodlust underneath that princely façade.” Akira readies himself for the incoming assault.

He parries Akechi’s swing, practically fooling around and making a show of his combat. Performing flips and flexible dodges, he’s playing Akechi as if he was in a bullfighting ring. Blasts of Eigon, Megidolaon, Riot Gun and Laevateinn are thrown towards Akira, until that overconfidence finally makes him falter and Akechi seize the small opening, successfully plunging his toothed sabre inside Akira’s leg. A pained screech from the other indicates is all he is able to draw as he gets hit by an overwhelming sense of drowsiness, his eyes starting to close against his will as Akira hits him with a powerful sleep ailment.

“Shit! That was closer than I would have liked.” He hears him murmur as slumber consumes his mind. “Now, pay close attention, we are recreating a familiar scene detective.” Akira draws his gun, aiming it straight at his head, finger ghosting against the trigger. “Oh, and for the record Akechi, this isn’t pity. See you on the other side. What was it you said? Ah, right.” Akira effortlessly lifts his helmet off, taking in the raw sight of his fallen opponent.

“This is where your justice ends.”

The bullet fire and Akechi’s body falls limp, blood pooling on the floor and a hole in his forehead between his eyes. Akira grabs the flaming torch, twirls it around a bit for fun until a colossal metallic entity appears before him.

The treasure, Trickster.

“As promised, but do not forget we aren’t done with my end of the bargain Demiurge” Akira says.

No need for concern, our exchange shall be delivered.

Akira hands over the torch to the false god, its gigantic hands reach for it. It starts to glow white in its palm until blazing light engulfs everything. Only a deep laughter from the thief echoes behind the eradicated world soon to be reborn.

Chapter Text

Somewhere in Tokyo, Goro Akechi opens his eyes and wakes up on the soft warm bed of his apartment. The morning sun greets him and birds singing to a tune are heard outside his window. He smells a familiar aroma being made from his kitchen, the whiff of something being flipped in a pan. Stumbling towards the hypnotizing source, the aroma of batter invading his senses, his eyes widened as sees two people. Long brown hair pushed to one side, a thin and fragile frame standing in a nice apron, humming an old song is his mother, baking pancakes. And to her side, with a fond smile, a recognizable bald man wearing orange shades and a small goatee, a tall and rectangular body in a fancy business suit is Shido, chopping an assortment of fruits. 

Akechi wants to kill himself. He wants to gouge his eyes out, bash his brains in, strangle whatever god decided death was too good for him.

This isn’t pity. See you on the other side

Akira’s words finally hit him as he finds himself stranded, once again, in a false world.

“Dear, what’s wrong? You look as if you’ve seen a ghost.” His mother asks him.

“Goro, my boy, your face is pale, are you alright?” Shido questions.

A mix between frenzy and despair replaces Akechi’s veins. Finally choosing the latter, he lets himself crumple to the floor, hysteria overtaking his senses. Ever since that day he lost his mother, Akechi finally let’s tears fall from his eyes. Salty fat drops hit the floor and snot comes out as he cries an ugly face. His parents come rushing to his side, worry crossed on their faces, and they hug him. Nostalgia of his childhood flashes in front of him. The feeling of that same warmth when his mother was in a rare good mood clashes with memories of Shido’s cold judgmental gaze as if he’s looking at an insect. Barking orders at him, throwing a wine bottle once in his direction in a drunken state, and a horrid temper every meeting. He feels like he is being burned at the stake at their contact while a breakout of ants crawls all over his body. It’s getting harder to breathe, he feels a desert dryness in his throat. His stomach starts to churn oddly since he hasn’t eaten anything in the past few hours. 

Akechi is going to violently hurl, and he does so on the perfectly clean kitchen floor, both of his parents look at him in shock and nauseating worry. He needs to get away, as far as possible now. Akechi immediately flees to the first safe place he remembers when he was young, locking the door behind, rinses his mouth and falls to the bathroom ground. He looks at his bathtub and recalls a small child coming back home after a long day, the cold quiet house as he searches for his mother. The horrid sight of her corpse floating in their tiny tub, as her blood fills it red. 

He’s still struggling to get some air in his lungs, as if he just ran a marathon throughout Tokyo. He hears blood pump loudly in his ears and curls himself in a ball as pin and needles uncomfortably prick his skin, closing his eyes. His hand reaches for something to ground himself, he feels something fuzzy in his hand, a towel probably. He tries to concentrate on the fluffy fabric, regaining a bit more air at least. He blindly places his hand on the next surface he can reach, the smooth cold door behind him. Next he senses the floor tiles. His vision blurs less.

The feeling of something poking at him is barely enough for Akechi to ground himself. Digging in his pockets, he discovers black frames, shimmering in the light, having survived despite everything. For once in a long time, Akechi feels a small glimmer of hope, and it’s all he needs right now to start moving. He pathetically picks himself up from the floor, wiping away at his disheveled looks, waits for his face to return like he wasn’t a sobbing mess and goes back, acting like nothing was wrong with rigid movement.

“S-Sorry about that. I just had a terrible nightmare is all.” Akechi shifts to his prince persona, trying to shake off suspicion, he can’t look at their faces. The lie seems to work for them as they don’t ask further questions. “I actually have a meeting with some friends early this morning. Sadly, I overslept and must get going before I turn up late.”

Akechi hurriedly exits his apartment before he can hear his parent’s protests and heads out to look for information, breakfast be damned he’ll buy something quick later like usual. There in Shibuya, broadcasting on a gigantic screen, is a reporter presenting the iconic phantom logo. News about the calling card being delivered towards some rich CEO, reports of increase in crime, burglary and arson, the police retracting their pursuit against the group of vigilantes and the numerous changes of hearts. And yet, nobody reacts with worry, or fear as they continue on in their own little worlds. Apathy suffocates the air as the pedestrians keep their noses down, disregarding the list of victims, whispers and murmurs exchanged.

“Looks like another change of heart is approaching. Man, when will they complete my request?”

“At least my family is safe from these atrocities, we don’t need this stuff just as our business is finally doing so well.”

“Who cares about these people, I have something more important to do right now.”

“We don’t need to worry about this, the Phantom Thieves will take care of it for us and then we can go back to our usual routine.”

Disgusted from the mindless sheeps and having heard enough, he departs somewhere else to escape from the mass. Roaming the familiar streets of Yongen Jaya, he is feeling nervous and prays Akira isn’t occupying the area. Instead, he is caught off guard and gets not so gently tugged towards the laundry mat by a familiar bleached head. Panic washes over in relief for a bit as he finds the thieves, Sumire and even Maruki, cramped in that tiny room.

“And that’s everyone… kinda.” Futaba announces, sitting on one of the dryers. Nobody has the spirits to acknowledge her last word, keeping their gazes down.

“Alright, we have much to talk about.” Makoto leads. “First of all, Akechi, what happened after we all fell from Maruki’s palace? And where did you wake up?” The ex-therapist uncomfortably shifts a bit at the mention of his name.

“We fought, I was able to injure his leg but he hit me with an annoying sleeping ailment. Before it was too late, I was shot.” He can feel some form of concern radiate from a few of the thieves, but they don’t have time for useless worries. “I found myself back in my apartment, this time with both of my parents who appears to be one oh so fucking happy family. I already knew none of this was real and I was back in my own personal hell.” Akechi grits out. “I assume it was the same for both of you?” He asks Haru and Futaba who both nod their heads.

“We all landed in our own homes too, although this time, same as you, we all remembered what happened. Futaba was able to contact us all, except you since you weren’t responding to your phone, and we decided to gather here, close to LeBlanc to survey the place and see if Kurusu was working there.” Makoto explains. “Although it seems he isn’t present.

Akechi looks at his phone to reveal a sea of notifications from unread messages and missed calls, to be fair he was kind of busy experiencing his own mental breakdown.

“So let me get this straight, cuz this shit is straigh up bonkers” Ryuji chimes in with confusion written all over his face. Akechi holds back an insult. “This technically same Joker, who lived a similar thing from another time? world? universe?, named Akira, died, somehow traversed here, got rid of our Joker, and decided to exact revenge on Mr. Detective over here?”

Everyone falls silent for a moment as they contemplate the sheer ridiculousness at the situation. It really sounds like the plot of a Featherman show or something Akechi thinks.

“Ren’s not dead is he? Or erased from existence like before?” Ann asks, her lips quivering a bit as she asks what everyone feared the worst.

“W-We don’t know for sure at the moment, but we will eventually find out what happened to him. We escaped death once, Ren twice, so I am certain he is capable of avoiding it a third time.” Sumire and Maruki, both out of the loop, let a small sound of bewilderment escape their lips. “I understand his motive towards killing Akechi, but why would Kurusu bring him back from the grave and grant him a perfect family?” Makoto changes the subject, already feeling a small headache from thinking in too much depth.

Before Akechi can answer, that same golden butterfly appears before the group, particles falling behind its movements. They all become entranced by its wings, flapping back and forth in a beautiful hypnotic sense.

“Lavenza?” Someone whispers, before they collapse, one by one. 

Not again, Akechi bemoans, sick of passing out until he eventually succumbs. 

He opens his eyes and finds himself, alongside everyone, splayed out on a cold marble floor in a circular dome. Groans and sighs from everyone, especially Ryuji, are left in the air.

“Man we have got to stop fainting, how many times has it been now?”

“Too many.” Morgana grumbles, face on the floor.

They find themselves in a strange space. Golden pillars that reach an impossibly high roof, fences circling the structure, a black and white checkered floor, and a butterfly engraved in the middle decorates their view. The butterfly hovers in the middle, and starts to transform. Standing there, is a tall man in a black turtleneck, medium brown hair tied in a neat ponytail, wearing a masquerade mask entirely made of butterfly wings. The mask is as elaborate as one would find during Mardi Gras, two butterflies flutter on each side of it, almost like they were alive. The man gives off the same presence as Lavenza, serene, elegant and otherworldly. His voice, deep and smooth, could almost lullaby some to sleep.

“Welcome, It’s a pleasure to meet you. I am Philemon.”

“Holy shit, where are we?” Ryuji loudly voices.

“You are dwelling between the consciousness and unconsciousness of all souls” Philemon  replies, unfazed by the loud reaction.

“Are you guys also seeing this? None of this is in my head right? I didn’t really go mad?” Maruki’s splutter goes unanswered.

“I didn’t know such a place existed.” Morgana admires.

“Your elegance strikes the same as someone we’ve met before, are you perhaps related to the Velvet Room?” Yusuke asks, framing his fingers towards the man, marveled at his beauty.

“You speak of one of Igor’s attendants, Emperor.” He lightly chuckles. “Though we may be cut from the same cloth, we do not intervene between one another's affairs anymore.”

Philemon presents to them their masks, each floating in front of their reach.

“From this moment forth, all of you will have to fight for a greater purpose using your personas. Your world is once more at stake as humanity has reverted back to their sloths thanks to the false god of control.” He narrates. Some of the thieves let out groans while Akechi, Maruki and Sumire express confusion at the revelation. 

“In truth, Justice should have been the only one to have kept his memories of what transpired, but your strong resolve and personas let each of you maintain it also.” They all look at each other with some worry at the revelation.

“To revert back its state, you need only to steal the treasure of one individual who is the current ruler of this reality.” Joker’s mask appears before them this time, completing the set. “Akira Kurusu.”

“What about Ren? What happened to him?” Akechi finally asks the anticipated question, snapping the attention of everyone else. Akechi shows Philemon the gifted frames. “I still had his glasses on me when I awoke to this world. This proves his existence isn’t completely erased right?”

“Fret not Justice, the Universe has not completely vanished. The false god has no such powers anymore.” Philemon reassures. Everybody releases their tensions, Akechi slumps a bit and lets out a breath he didn’t know he was holding. “However, he has been moved, kept hidden by his double. Beware, as he is crafty, and most likely disguised him to the naked eyes.” 

Philemon looks at Akechi. “I can sense a strong bond shared between the both of you, a promise that has yet to be fulfilled. That gift you hold will help during your heist. You just have to see things from his perspective.” 

Akechi ignores the stares from the others, not willing to dive into this conversation as the world is literally in danger, again. He hears Ryuji snickers something before Ann hits him with her elbow, earning a wheeze of pain.

“Time is already up, you cannot remain drifting. I invited you here simply to tell you of it.” Philemon concludes.

“Hey uh, can we not pass out this time when you whisk us away or something?” Ryuji lamely asks.

He is ignored as Akechi feels himself being transported, Philemon taking back the form of a butterfly as they all leave from this space. This time, the group finds themselves inside Ren’s room. But familiar is the last word to describe it as dust replaces the trinkets held on the shelves, spider webs found on the walls and rotting wood creaks beneath their feets. What is left of Ren’s lively attic is but a hollow shell. 

They hear footsteps come up from the stairs, everyone freezes, Akechi and Haru grabbing the nearest objects, which isn't much to defend themselves with, in case Akira was returning. Akechi was going to beat the bastard, vacuum in hand or not. To everyone’s relief, Sojiro’s head presents itself to all of them, clear confusion plastered.

“Uhhh, you guys are all friends of his?” He asks, his gaze hovering over the seven teenagers, his adopted daughter, the cat and the fully grown adult.

“Yeah, we decided to come visit so we could hangout.” Futaba quickly answers. “Have you seen him anywhere?”

“That’s a good idea, I’m sure the kid would appreciate it, lately he’s been going out a lot to who knows where. Most of the time I don’t even see him back before a few days, but he always returns with a drained expression and fatigued eyes, so I’m sure taking a break from whatever he’s doing will do him some good. How about you all make yourselves comfortable here while you wait for him to come home. Oh, and make sure not to cause too much of a ruckus, I am trying to run a business after all.” Sojiro offers, unaware of the attic’s current messy state. He goes back down.

“Don’t you worry Mr. Sakura, I’ll supervise them.” Maruki unhelpfully assures.

Akechi opens up his phone to reveal the glowing red eye, staring right back at them.

“Well any ideas?” Makoto starts. “So far we have the name, we only need the two other keywords, the location and distortion.”

“What about LeBlanc?” Haru chimes in.

Candidate not found

“His home?” Maruki tries.

Candidate not found

“Ok, let me try rapid firing.” Ryuji says, some complaints are made as the last time it didn’t work so well. “Yongen Jaya, Shibuya, Tokyo, Japan, Asia, the earth, the universe.”

Candidate

Candidate

Candidate

Candidate

Candidate

Candidate

Candidate not found

“Ryuji please stop.” Ann begs, pinching the bridge of her nose.

“Welp, I tried everything I could think of, what else is there in the world?” Ryuji groans.

Candidate found

“Wait! for real!?”

“You have got to be kidding me.” Ann laments.

“Ok, we only need the last keyword.”

“Maybe try a den? Like a thief's den?” Morgana asks.

Candidate not found

Akechi ponders a bit, reflecting back to his confrontation against Akira.

“A theatre.” He says.

Candidate not found

He frowns a bit

“A stage.” Akechi tries again.

Candidate found

“Great guess Akechi, how did you figure it out so quickly?” Sumire asks.

“Kurusu acted like he was in the spotlight, his choice or wordings, the dramatic gestures, the playful behavior, it was obvious his mind was in his own little performance.”

Candidate found, Akira Kurusu, the world, a stage

“Before we leave, shouldn't he have a code name?” Futaba points at Maruki.

“Wha-Me!?” The man clearly looks like a deer caught in headlights.

“What about Nugget? Since his costume looks like gold and all.” Ryuji suggest. A few laughs are heard. Maruki clearly looks like he wants to protest at the idea.

“Ryuji please be serious about this, the world is literally at stake.” Ann rejects, not hiding her amusement.

“If I may suggest, I think Scholar would suit him quite well.” Yusuke propose. “After all, he is a doctor and seems to have quite some knowledge in cognitive psience.”

Some quack doctor Akechi doesn't say.

“It’s well fought out, I like it. Thank you Kitagawa.” Maruki says.

“Everyone ready? Let’s go then.” Makoto hits enter on the navigation app. 

The familiar distortion around them transforms as their surroundings bends and shifts in red and black. Walls, floor and ceiling stretch and disappear and they exit for the Metaverse.

Unknown to them, lying on the poorly maintained mattress, a boy, without sound, sleeps.

Somewhere else, exploring in Mementos, is another boy who is destroying shadows without sleep.

Chapter Text

The group find themselves in complete darkness, unable to even see one another.

“We didn’t pass out again did we?” Skull’s exasperated voice is the only confirmation they all teleported without separation.

“No, but I can’t see a single thing, not even my own hands.” Panther answers.

“Can someone switch the lights on or something, this is way too dark for my liking” Queen’s nervous voice is heard.

Suddenly, a small light source dimly illuminates them from above and they find themselves enclosed in a small space, surrounded by velvet curtains. A single white card feather falls from the sky and lands directly at Fox’s feet. He picks it up, glancing at the fancy mate cardstock. The logo of a black and white face with red eyes looks back at them with a mischievous smile, one side resembling Joker’s mask. The number 1 is marked on the corner. The group turns it over to reveal a message.

The actors must follow the script if they seek the treasure they wish to rip. They must prove their skills in the spotlight, only then will the keys be in sight. Once all 4 are collected, the finale shall start and fate will be decided.

“What the hell does that mean?” Skull voices.

“I suspect we will have to prove ourselves to unlock the treasure room.” Fox supplies.

“To who? There is literally no one around us?”

As he finishes his sentence, the curtains slowly start to rise, revealing on the other sides a sea of shadows all seated in the round auditorium, circling them. Several stage lights trap them in their own individual space, their shadows harshly hitting what is revealed to be a gigantic wooden stage underneath their feet, almost the size of an arena. 

“Great, ya jinxed it Skull.” Oracles blames.

A booming voice makes itself present in the speakers above.

“Ladies and Gentlemen, we are proud to present you: A Fool’s Journey . Please make sure to remain standing and loud during the performance, pictures and videos are permitted so long as the flash is used. There will be no intermissions throughout the program. And with that, enjoy the show.”

“Wait! What? They don’t mean-” Before Panther’s protests are heard, the stage rumbles as gigantic decorations materialize from thin air, replicating what seems to be the dimly lit streets of a small town. Two cognitions appear, the orchestra’s pitch rises in crescendo as the familiar tale of Joker’s probation is presented before them. The cognitive woman pleading dramatically, her hand reaching towards the crowd, struggling as the cognitive Shido holds a bruising grip on her torso. Above the stadium, blinking red words surface on the screens for the group to read.

Save her, Save her, Save her, Save her

Before any of the other thieves can do anything, Crow pummels a fist at cognitive Shido, sending the man flying comically off the stage. Gasp and whispers from the shadows grumble in discontentment.

“This isn’t how the story is supposed to go, Is it?”

“Did they change the script or something? I don’t remember this particular scene.”

“What are these amateurs thinking, tarnishing the play with these rash actions?”

“Finally, I wanted to beat the shit out of him for years.” Crow amusingly admits. The group just look at him in shock, save for Noir, Skull and Oracles who nod their heads in approval. Fox, being the only one, is clapping at the violence, an awkward wave goes unnoticed by him. Scholar stays quiet, feeling he isn’t quite qualified to talk about built up anger issues for now.

The audience starts to boo at the group, unpleased at the current display. Popcorn, drinks and food are thrown at them, the thieves swiftly evade them. A cup of instant noodles hits Scholar's face front and center, since he lacks practice and agility. The greasy noodles slips down, leaving a very noticeable stain on his golden mask. The poor man sighs in defeat.

“What’s their deal? Crow technically did as the instructions said” Skull asks, avoiding a pretzel flying his way.

“Clearly that wasn’t the right thing to do, maybe we need to stop cognitive Shido in a different way?” Mona suggests. “Oracles, do you think you would be able to reset the scene with your persona or something?”

“I’m trying, give me a few seconds.” She quickly replies, hacking away with Al Azif. “Guys, some of the shadows are incoming for battle. I’ll need you guys to hold them off while I’m working.”

Two Black Frosts and a Dionysus appear before them. A sinister ‘he hoo’ is the only warning the thieves get before a heavy Mabufudyne is aimed at them, effectively knocking down Panther straight on her ass. She yells in pain as it sends another one straight towards Crow, who swiftly dodges the icy attack.

“Fox, Use a confuse vial L! Violet heal Panther with a Diarahan! Noir, hit them with a Mapsiodyne!” He quickly says, clearly experienced in combat. The other’s spring into action, abiding to his directions. The two Black Frosts are disintegrated, leaving only the Dionysus. It unleashes a Wave of Hades, managing to hit Fox. He slumps in despair and starts to murmur to himself. Scholar steps towards him, recognizing his anguish and calmly tries to talk to him. Surprising everyone, Fox manages to shake out his status effect after a few words. Crow is seemingly a bit impressed, sending a Laevateinn to finish off the last shadow. But he’ll never admit that aloud.

“Ok guys, let’s start from the top.” Oracles announces.

A quick wave of nausea hits the group, and they soon find themselves once again at the beginning, the two cognitions playing out their roles as if Crow’s intervention never happened.

“How about we try distracting him away from her?” Noir suggests. That doesn't sound like a bad idea. She approaches the actors, takes a deep breath, and screams a loud shriek straight out from a horror movie.

“OH MY GOODNESS! That building is on FIRE!”

The cognitive Shido stops his aggressive advances on the other and glances towards one of the burning set pieces that Panther has ignited for added effects. During the distraction, she drags the cognitive woman away to the other side. They wait a bit to see if their plan work. Unfortunately, the audience once again outcries at the scenario, Scholar fails to evade the noodles a second time. The same shadows appear, the commands are given as Oracles resets the stage once more.

“Anyone got any other ideas? Cuz I’m starting to get tired of having food thrown at us” Skull deflates after two failed attempts.

“I can agree on that.” Scholar voices.

“It seems like neither violence nor a peaceful solution will work.” Violet shares.

“What if we try the same thing as Joker did?” Queen proposes. “Since both Ren and Akira are in a sense, one in the same, we should try to recreate this as if we were in their shoes.”

“Good thinking Queen.” Mona compliments. “Alright, third time’s a charm.”

This time, she approaches them and places her hand on cognitive Shido’s shoulder, effectively surprising him. He falls back and hits his head on the pavement, a bit of blood oozing from his bald head, shining like an egg in the spotlight. He shouts profanities, the play following Joker’s story as two cognitive cops arrive to arrest her under his false accusations. As she is put into the fake police car, she notices something tapped to the decor. The same white card with the two faced logo, only this time it adores a sorrowful face with the number 2. She swipes it as the scene ends and a roar of claps and cheers greet them this time. The shadows finally seem satisfied at the performance. A bitter taste is left in the group’s mouth, experiencing firsthand the unjust arrest of their leader, Queen’s shivers doesn't go unnoticed as Noir gives her small pats of reassurance on the back.

“This is so effin messed up” Skull says, his words drowned in the sea of applause. A hum of agreement from the others are shared.

“I never knew the extent towards your leader’s arrest.” Scholar solemnly says, some sadness apparent in his voice.

From above, the same voice narrates as the curtain closes.

“A doom at the hands of Pride and a sentence engraved, his journey starts as he foolishly extended his hand in aid, only to wind up hurt and betrayed.”

Blackout once again surrounds them. The words, betrayed, from the announcer hovered in Crow’s mind. He’s not proud of his betrayal against Ren or the thieves, knowing he was already too far gone in his plan to turn back. That’s how he was taught to survive in this eat or be eaten world. And yet, Ren still invited him to join them and offered help to bring Shido down. He was able to shift his worldview, show him a glimpse of the other side despite attempting to murder him twice. He cared enough about their strange bond to have wished for his return to a madman.

Some might not forgive you for what you have done, and they never will, but that does not mean your life is worth nothing

He lets himself smirk in the darkness.

Someplace else in a dressroom, seated in the lead role’s chair, is Akira Kurusu, bristling in his seat.

“Demiurge! What the hell are they doing here?” He yells, summoning the attention of the false god. 

Trickster, their intent is clear the moment they step foot here. You should know best after all.

“Not shit! How did they even find this place? No one except Akechi should remember a thing! And why is he acting as their leader!?”

It seems you have underestimated this world’s Trickster, his bond towards the others must have been strong. Enough for them to see past your lies. I wonder what that says compared to yours.

“Shut it! You promised me justice and that I would be able to continue my change of hearts without interference!”

I have promised you power, no more no less . The fault lies in yourself as it seems you have disregarded for such a situation to happen.

“How dare you! I am the reason you even succeeded in your whole world domination bullshit!”

Beware Trickster, do not forget you are breathing on borrowed time.

Akira shuts up immediately, grinding his lips until he can feel a tinge of steel. He dismisses the false god before violently throwing his dagger to the wall. Feeling not in the slightest calmed down, he stares at himself in the mirror.

“It’s fine, you will fix everything.” He reassures himself.

“You are Joker, leader of the Phantom Thieves, there is nothing you can’t do.”

Except when he can’t, memories of the interrogation room creep in his mind like tendrils and his hands start shaking, white knuckles gripping the edge of his desk. A cruel laughter echoes and mocking eyes plague his vision. He refuses to go back to a world where there is nothing left for him, much left of him. But what is there in this world? Violently pushing the memories at the depth of his brain, he prepares for his next Metaverse escapade. He does not have time to deal with these idiots running around his little stage while requests from the Phansite are constantly piling up. He does not want to confront his past teammates again . Unconsciously covering a part of his forehead with a bit too much makeup, he busies himself instead with the next targets.

Chapter Text

The stage sets once more, this time, resembling the halls of Shujin. Entering the scene is a cognitive Joker in his school uniform walking with his head down. The orchestra plays a slow sad song as disfigured silhouettes of students stage whispers insults and worries. This time on the screen, directions appear.

Le Bateleur, Le Chariot et L'Amoureux entre la scène

“Uh guys, I think we already know this but none of us speak baguette.” Skull complains.

“It’s French you fool.” Mona exasperates.

“I may actually be able to read this, but only a little bit.” Noir reveals. “My father encouraged me to learn a few extra languages, saying it would benefit the company. From what I can understand, it’s saying the magician, the chariot and the lovers enter the scene.”

“I’m assuming they are referring to the Arcana from the tarot cards.” Crow says. “Philemon called me justice, Joker the universe, and Fox the emperor, so that probably means each of us are associated with an Arcana.”

“But how do we tell who is associated with what?” Violet asks.

“I don’t think we need to think too much about that.” Queen shares with a shake of the head. “From what we previously observed, the scenes are clearly based on Akira’s journey. Based on what we know, it’s not too much of a stretch to believe the same events happened to him as it did to Ren. Maybe we just need to go up on stage in order of the members joining.”

“Rational conclusion, I guess that means Mona, Skull and Panther are up first.” Crow says.

“I’ve got a bad feeling about this.” Skull complains.

The trio nervously approaches the cognitive Joker, Skull looking back at them and frantically waving he has no idea of what they are supposed to do. They soon find themselves lifted up on the stage, and suddenly, the orchestra’s tempo picks up a faster rhyme, changing its tune to a catchy swing. The set design around them changes once more, this time recreating the treasure room of Kamoshida’s palace. The cognitive Joker, in a flash, changes into its metaverse outfit, his platform expanding and rising above them, he takes position in full center. He suddenly breaks off into a dance, backup dancers and vocalists join them on the flat stage below.

“What the!” Mona yells.

“A Musical!?” Panther shrieks in horror at the revelation.

“Oh my! It’s a Broadway!” Noir exclaims in excitement, starting to feel giddy.

Before them, 4 shadows appear. Stronger variations of them, first found in the palace, menacingly looms at the performers. Cognitive Joker battles with one closest to him, although it’s more stage fighting then the typical combat. He performs kicks, pirouettes, cartwheels and wide acrobatic tricks earning oohs and ahhs from the audience.

Queen sends a Mafreidyne towards the Pixie, but it doesn't affect it at all. All of a sudden, she feels drained and lets her legs fall to the ground.

“Queen has just gotten a major chunk of her health taken out!” Oracles panics. “The shadows are all immune to every skill except Wind, Gun, Electricity and Fire.”

On the screen the words repeat in warning.

“I think it’s trying to say only those performing can affect them.” Scholar remarks, handing over a bead to Queen.

“You heard him guys, attack with only these elements. Anything else is a no go.” Oracles messages.

“Say no more!” Skull whips out his Megito Blaster, diminishing the Pixie instantly. “Hell yeah! Panther the baton is all your!” He high fives her, feeling the thrill hyping them up.

“I got this.” She sends a hot Agidyne towards the Silky on her left. Devastatingly injuring it, barely standing on its last foot. “All yours Mona!”

“Watch this!” He effectively knocks down the Succubus, rendering the other shadows unable to fight back. “Panther! you know what time it is!”

Without a word, the duo performs their showtime, gunning down the poor shadows until not even ashes are left. Panther blows a kiss towards the audience as she lands, yet they seem far more entranced at cognitive Joker finishing off the Berith. A large copy of Kamoshida’s monstrous appearance makes its presence on stage, the stage lights blinking red, recreating the security on high alerts. It’s gross tongue slams towards their dancing leader as he overdramatically dodges the fake attack at the very last second.

“Don’t tell me we have to fight this thing again?” Panther worries.

Joker takes a wide lunge forward, a nice clear slash strikes through the giant and it falls back, perishing in the air while tiny confetti falls from above alongside a recreation of the gigantic crown.

“Thankfully not.” Mona says.

The Phantom Thieves logo is projected for everyone to see as all light focuses on the cognition only. He extends his arms towards the crowd and proceeds to recite a monologue, the backup crew dances in very slow movements.

“I was suddenly thrusted into a new journey, having to leave my small town to a big scary city. My parents were ashamed, yelling that I ruined the family name when they knew of my desperate pleas. I wished for an impossible wish to have that bastard’s head, knowing it would never be granted. They shipped me off to a stranger’s attic, letting my future rot alongside the dust in there. I soon found myself alienated, what was supposed to be my hospitality soon became my prison cell as the tyrant king of lust leaked my probation for the world to see. But somehow, I found myself surrounded by three outcasts just like me, I was welcomed with open arms. Together, we formed a team to rebel against injustice, and thus the Phantom Thieves of Hearts was born. I have never felt happier in my life.

The words upon the screen change. 

L’empereur entre la scène

“The emperor enters the scene” Noir translates.

“I believe I am next.” Fox says.

As he takes his place on the platform, the structure changes once more as the sickly golden exterior of Madarame’s palace takes its place and a new tune starts. The spotlight on him flickers for just a second. This time, three Hua Po and two Nues are summoned.

“Let us eliminate these shadows in beauty!” He announces to the crowd, striking a marvelous pose with his Usumidori R. He goes unnoticed, all eyes are once again chained towards the cognitive thief who is occupied with one of the Nues.

“It’s like they don’t even care about us.” Skull mumbles to them, the lack of attention is starting to irk him a bit.

Fox unleashes another heavy ice attack, missing one Hua Po. “Panther! You know what to do.” He high fives her.

“Say hello to my little friend!” She cheerfully shoots at them, managing to kill one of the weakened shadows that were brought down. She sends a strong fire attack, effectively bringing down the last Hua Po and burning it. “Mona, there’s only 3 left!”

Mona follows her up with a Garudyne, scorching it to ashes with a very effective gust of wind attack. “Finish it Skull!”

“Hey Fox! Ya thinking what I’m thinking?” Skull yells. He receives a nod back and they execute their duo attack in perfect sync, obliterating the remaining shadows. “That should get their attention.” 

Yet again, their focus doesn't move. Their phones out for recording and flashes of cameras all remain on the same subject. One particular strong flash blinds Skull for a bit.

“Oh come one! We were so cool!” He frustrates.

The grotesque canvases of Madarame are slain, the Sayuri descends like the previous treasure.

“Our group was expanding and the palaces became more challenging with time, more dangerous, more risky. I knew I was walking on a thin tightrope trying to balance everything. My schoolwork, my confidants, my numerous part time jobs, the Memento requests, the heists, all these things weighed upon me and I couldn’t let myself crumble. The shadows became stronger, the equipment and supplies more costly, the palaces more difficult and puzzling. I could slowly feel myself going insane, searching for a way to grow stronger, collect more powerful personas, and earn more money for the expenses. However, all of that wasn’t for naught, as I became the unstoppable leader of the Phantom Thieves. The adrenaline of potential only increased every heist, the public’s belief rising alongside to unimaginable heights. I could play the hero I so desperately wanted, who served justice to those corrupted.

The routine continues and thief after thief makes their entrance to the stage. The decor changes to their respective palaces, familiar shadows appear only to get obliterated by the group. Joker’s monologue between each act became more worrisome, twisted, obsessive, a clear desire for strength in the Metaverse.

La Papesse entre la scène

L’Hermite entre la scène

L’Impératrice entre la scène

High fives are passed around, showtimes are executed between pairs. They are all enjoying themselves with laughter and cheers exchanged in the air. Yet, the sea of shadows never reacts or acknowledges them. The spotlight on them seems to dim darker as Joker’s only gets stronger and brighter. Except, he doesn’t seem to be having fun, a neutral expression remains on his face as he kills each copy of the palace rulers they previously encountered. A strange air of loneliness surrounds the lead role as he stays separated from them. 

“Man, why does Joker get all the attention? It practically looks like he did everything and we don’t exist!.” Skull had finally had enough, stopping during the Okumura arc. The spotlight is not even under them anymore, leaving them hidden in darkness.

“Do you think this may reflect Kurusu’s heart?” Scholar suggests. “From the look of it, he is the only one on that platform, as if none of us are on equal grounds.”

“And not only that, but the music’s rhythm is much faster compared to the start, we can barely keep up.” Queen says.

“Do you think the Joker from the other world didn’t need his teammates anymore?” Noir sadly voices.

“I think Kurusu’s mind was filled with so much trash that his ego skyrocketed, displaying his full narcissism for us to see.” Crow shares with a displeased tone.

“Quite a tragic transformation.” Fox adds.

“That's it I’ve had enough!” Skull’s irritation bursts out. “He thinks he’s so high and mighty just because of his special power and the others are what? Nothing to him? Hell no! not on my watch!”

Before the group is able to stop him, Skull climbs onto the stage. None of them like where this is going. He not so gently shoves the cognition and takes his place in the spotlight. The audience, orchestra and backup artists freeze completely in their current poses, almost like statues. The sound of a small cough is the only noise in the arena as Ryuji stands there awkwardly, clearly having not thought about what to do beyond that point.

“Great plan bozo, now what? We can’t get that key if we can’t finish the show.” He hears Futaba scold him, he sulks a bit.

“That moron.” Mona sighs.

Crow would throw insults at the idiot, but he’s not really in position to complain seeing as he previously acted rash during the first act. Although, he is a hypocrite and does so anyways.

“Look, Look, I can fix this right? We just need some music and everything should revert back or something.” Ryuji tries to explain nonchalantly, failing to hide the nervous realization that he might have fucked up.

“Unless you know how to play any instruments yourself, we are pretty much stuck on pause forever.” Futaba says.

At the mention of that, Skull perks up, regaining some confidence. Crow can see gears spinning in his brain  with a plan and braces himself by blocking his ears for the horrendous singing he’s about to experience. Except, the scratching of blackboard never came, as Skull suddenly starts to beatbox.

The group’s jaw falls to the floor in shock, save for Panther who slaps a palm on her face.

It’s not that he’s performing terribly, Skull seems to actually have real talent. He’s expertly  beatboxing some sci-fi dubstep for the audience. Kind of fitting considering Okumura’s space theme palace. But this is a Broadway, where the musical theatre genre is usually performed with verses, chorus, harmony and more. In a surprising matter that no one could have predicted, the crowd cheers at the performance.

“I can’t believe that worked!?” Oracles say in her stupor.

“Skull really is amazing.” Violet awes.

The monologue never comes this time, as cognitive Joker seems to have also stopped his movement with the others. The screen changes for its next actor.

La Justice entre la scène

“Crow, try getting underneath that spotlight to see if anything will change.” Oracle requests.

With a sigh and a grimace pondering over what his life has become, Crow begrudgingly makes his way on the platform, trying to grasp the shadow’s attention as he fits back into his princely persona to please the crowd. Skull has finished his beatboxing solo and leaves the mic to him, with a thumb up. Crow can feel his cheeks hurt a bit at the amount of force he is putting to display a pleasant smile, it reminds him of interviews back at the filming stations. Back when a part of himself couldn’t help but search for attention, wanting to be noticed, praised and validated for his accomplishments from anyone.

After a few moments of silence after the performance, once the shadows settle down, the crowd goes back to its solid state. Stares bores onto the current lead, patiently waiting. On the screen, the words give it’s final direction.

La Justice termine la scène

“Justice finishes the scene.” Noir shares to the group.

“Seems like Crow has to finish the play, it does make sense considering…” Oracles leaves the last bit.

“Does that mean he will have to perform a song like Skull recently did?” Violet innocently asks.

“Looks that way. Well Crow, give us all a nice finale.” Oracles encourage.

The thieves are trying to hold their laughs at the idea of their most violent member, the intimidating Black Mask, culprit behind every mental shutdowns, reduced to a starring role in a musical.

“I’m sorry, last time I checked the acts showed that we just needed to destroy these shadows while the orchestra took care of the songs. So I don’t remember agreeing to having to FUCKING SING!” Crow’s outburst echoes through everyone.

“Sorry Crow, you’ll have to finish this scene yourself since you are the last member. So suck it up and give the fans what they want. Unless you want to leave the world as it is just because you got cold feet.” Oracles dangerously teases, knowing fully well she is playing with fire.

Crow can feel a vein pop in his head as he is internally screaming every swear word known to man at the humiliation he’s being shoved to face. He managed to survive death twice, took a bullet in the chest in Shido’s ship, got shot in the head by a twisted version of his rival, yet, singing to a cognitive crowd on stage with Joker’s merry band of thieves and a ex-therapist with a god complex might be what truly makes him bite the dust. What song is he even supposed to sing? Sure he might have some knowledge of a few broadways he once saw during his celebrity years, but is that really enough to get them the key? 

Abruptly, almost as if they could read his thoughts, the cognitive Joker starts to move again, like a puppet controlled by strings. The spotlight split, focusing only on him and the thief as they stand facing one another, both alone on the highest platform. The backup dancers and vocalists all vanish. The music comes back as they produce a tune Crow is vaguely familiar with. The lyrics are displayed on the screen in a karaoke fashion, coloured coded to indicate the character’s parts. The cognition starts to sing in Joker’s deep smooth voice, taking the part of Stine as the number reveals itself. Akechi wants to strangle that over dramatic piece of shit attic trash who loves symbolism, as he’s singing a song from City of Angels: You’re Nothing Without Me.

He has no choice but to follow and take the role of Stone. But even so, despite hating all of this, the predicament he found himself in, the embarrassment, there is one thing only that Crow loathes with every fibre of his being, and that is to back down from a challenge, especially against Joker. Don’t even mention losing against the guy. So he sings, puts his all into each lyric, refusing to be upstaged by a fake. 

They duet the song together, the performance not bad at all. Each putting more splendor, more emotion in the verses until a shadow appears to fill the role of Munoz, and drags Crow away, just like the musical, to let the cognition finish the song. As he’s being moved, he finds another card taped to its shirt and steals it just in time. The face illustrated the mask with a playful expression, sticking its tongue out like a child would. The number 3 engraved. The thief gives one last monologue to end the scene.

“As the Thieves of Hearts reached their highest peak, a wolf in sheep’s clothing approached with a plea. A deal was established for one last heist, the casino of envy in our sight. But the liar had other plans in his mind, a betrayal awaiting the vigilantes. The thieves all fell into the trap, the rest escaping in their separate ways, only their leader left to the slaughter. Subjected to torture upon hours, needles puncturing porcelain skin turned black and blue, hatred only grew until his resolve was shattered. The broken thief with one last breath, cursed the world as the traitor delivered his death.”

Clapping and whistles are heard from the sea of shadows as the cognitive Joker exits the stage, done with his role as the platforms revert back to normal and the decorations vanish. The group are all shakenly unnerved at the speech, understandably so. What can you really say upon hearing Kurusu’s reasonable anger? Akechi hides his face behind his helmet, some sense of shame and regret slowly tendrils into his mind. 

He knew about the cruel interrogations, the inhuman methods to get a confession out of suspects, yet it seems both versions of himself threw the leaders to the torment of the police without a second thought. There was a reason why the conviction rates are 99%, he himself depended upon that guilty until proven innocent system the law adopted for his plan to work. If only he wasn’t so blinded by vengeance, Joker’s fate would have been avoided. But, it’s because of it that they are standing where they are.

A sudden weight is placed upon his back and he sees Violet looking at him with a strange face, yet she doesn't seem revolted or enraged at the revelation of his past crimes. Crow doesn't need to ask why before she answers.

“I may be out of the loop of what happened between you and the thieves and I’m in no position to understand or excuse your reasoning towards your actions. Although, I am allowed to say that just the fact that you are here with us, that you decided to help the same group that you once antagonized, subject yourself to the front stage and sang to obtain the next key, shows that you have and can change.” She tells him.

“It was a mistake trying to overwrite the past you and Amamiya had ventured through.” Scholar looks at him with an apologetic look. “Though you may have had a rough past and  some… questionable morals, you didn’t erase them. Instead choosing to own up to it and learn from it. I commend you for the bravery I myself sadly wasn’t able to obtain.”

“Thank you.” Is all Crow can say. This might be the most heartfelt he perceived towards them.

“Hey something just occurred to me, but isn’t it strange that during the entire show, not once was Violet and Scholar mentioned?” Queen remarked.

“It is quite odd. You would think they would be included since they also had a heavy impact on Joker.” Noir ponders.

“Maybe he never met them in his world.” Fox says.

“At least it saved us from having to perform.” Scholar sighs with relief.

“A shame, I would have loved to dance alongside everyone.” Violet laments.

The curtains once more surround them in velvet.

‘Come on, we have one more card to collect.” Crow says with determination.

From above the nosebleed section among the seats, having returned from his numerous Memento requests to check on the group, Akira storms off with a beating panic in his chest. They know now. They all know about his past, his struggle, his anger, everything on display in the shape of a goddamn Broadway. If only his palace wasn’t so fucking dramatic, if only these annoying thieves stayed ignorant and minded their own business. He even gave them what they were missing, their friends, their club, their parents. Even after they abandoned him. Why are they even helping the enemy? 

He feels himself conflicted on what to do, he should stop them from acquiring the last key, unleash his full strength upon them and be done with it. Surely he’s able to take them all on right? A small rational part of him diminishes the idea. It’s too many against 1, two of each Akira doesn't even recognize. And not to mention, the masses' demands are growing by the seconds, shouting louder for an encore, more changes of hearts, more Memento missions, more praises towards his exhilarating heists. Million of eyes are on him, he’s finally getting the attention he’s been craving, right? He would be able to intervene, stop the thieves from collecting the last card if he had more time for everything, but he doesn't, just like back then.

He is reminded of all of his confidants demanding for his attention, asking for help with their problems, tugging him left and right as if he were a stuffed animal to be shared by numerous children. He lent an ear to their worries and vents, gave advice to their concerns and hesitations, and offered help during their needs. But it all became too much and he couldn’t spread himself too thin.

The clock kept ticking every day and he eventually just stopped wasting his time, slowly separating himself to focus on other, more important things. He busied himself instead with part time jobs, the growing team’s expensive equipment and supplies weren’t going to pay themselves. He trained at the gym to become stronger, studied like hell to become smarter, ate impossibly large burgers at the big bang to have more guts, visited that shitty overpriced maid café in Akihabara to gain more charm, crafted several infiltration tools to be more proficient. And all of these efforts showed he was rapidly getting more powerful, day by day. He defeated shadows effortlessly, accumulated multiple personas, secured a path to the treasure in only a few days, sometimes one, and demolished the corrupted rulers without sweat. He was able to carry his entire team on his back.

And yet, all Akira gets in return are broken bonds, broken bones and a broken world. Cast aside once more and forgotten thanks to his executors. He had finally learned the cruelty of reality, that all of his effort was for naught. All of his personas left him, returning to the sea of souls and becoming mere spectators in his palace. Except for Arsene who transformed into Monte Cristo once Yaldabaoth had found him with an offer.

Still, a tinge of loneliness stays in his heart, looking at the group fight together, perform these strange coordinated attacks nauseates him with a small feeling of homesickness and jealousy. He wanted all of this right? He misses his team. He abruptly stomps the feeling down. He has no time to think about the past when several changes of hearts await him. He was perfectly capable of continuing the Phantom Thieves' legacy by himself, tired or not. He just had to make the final key unattainable, place it somewhere no one would find it. And he just so happens to have the perfect idea.

Chapter Text

Ren feels his heavy eyelids open to the movement of being carried, he can’t quite see where he is being taken as his surroundings blur from his fresh slumber. A heavy weight strains against his wrist and he notices strange handcuffs placed upon them. That snaps him out of his sleepy state, instead replacing it with terror. He wriggles frantically to get away from his captor, a panicked cry releases from his mouth, but its grip does not relent. The shadow transporting him brings him in a large theatre like arena where only shadows occupy the elegant seats. He is forced to sit in the middle of a row, being held back and watched by two guards. Only then does he notice his metaverse appearance hasn’t appeared, instead, he is wearing his Shujin uniform. No mask on his face, meaning he can’t summon his persona and is powerless at the moment. A loud voice booms over the crowd.

“Ladies and Gentleman, we will be needing the audience’s participation for this act, so please make sure to remain unruly in your seats. Thank you and have fun.”

The gigantic curtains rise, spotlights luminates the stage, revealing to Ren the others. He immediately tries to jump out of his hold. They are right there, in front of him on the large platform still wearing their metaverse costumes, his ex-therapist included. But he is unable to escape from the lush seats. The two at his sides keep a bruising hold on him. He tries to yell at them, to gain their attention, letting them know he’s ok, that he wasn’t erased for a second time. Unfortunately no one hears him, just as their heads turn his way they don’t acknowledge his presence, like he’s some sort of ghost. They can’t see him. They are so close to each other, yet so far out of reach, a cruel temptation that he cannot grasp. Towering above them are gigantic screens, displaying bold red words for all to see.

This performance will be more unique, find the right one to reveal the last key you seek

At the center on the edges of the circular stage, 3 figures take shape from the ground. Three Jokers, all in different clothes, face the audience. One is wearing his casual white jacket and a black shirt with jeans. The other, his plain 1797 shirt on the day of his probation. The last, his iconic Joker ensemble. After striking a few poses for the audience, they face towards his group, salute them with two fingers and all say in union with his voice.

“Catch us if you can.”

They all run into the spectators' isles in different directions, the crowd erupts in cheer as if it was a sports game.

“Wait what!?” Skull yells from the sudden shock.

“No time to talk after them!” Oracles directs.

“Noir, Queen, Fox, chase after the jacket one! Mona, Panther, Skull, take care of the one with the numbers! Violet and Scholar we are targeting the last one.” Crow immediately commands.

“From what I scanned, you only need to touch them and they will be caught.” Oracles informs. “Treat this like a game of tag with a whole audience watching.”

Ren feels like a proud parent looking at how far his team has grown. Even his past therapist came to help them and Akechi, the previous vicious black mask who damned the world, is currently leading the thieves like he did. Ren knows he can trust them with all his heart, they will eventually resolve this whole situation together.

“Panther, Try throwing a fireball at him or something!” Skull suggests after a few failed attempts on gaining up on the cognition.

“Are you stupid? I might burn the card alongside it.”

“Just try it please.”

Panther sends a flaming Agydine towards the fleeing cognition, it gets dodged easily with a childish laugh trailing behind him. A shadow flashes its bright light directly into her eyes and she falters in her pursuit for a bit, blinded. The shadow sends them a grimace and sticks its tongue out.

“Panther! You okay?” Mona asks.

“Just peachy, It looks like the spectators will be trying to stop us from getting that card.” She regains her vision.

Their target seems to have stopped a bit, waving at them with an ‘over here’ to taunt them, then resumes.

“Man, they’re just playing with us. We won’t be able to capture him if all we’re doing is eating dust.” Skull says.

“We need a plan that will lead him directly towards us, not to mention avoid the crowd’s interruption.”

“How about one of us distract them, they can chase after him towards a specific area, then the remaining two will corner him.” Panther proposes.

“Say no more, I’ll run after him. After all, I am the fastest out of the three of us.” Skull volunteers.

With a nod and a strategy set, the trio puts their plan in motion. He catches Joker’s full attention with an intense glare and dashes towards him. The cognition recognizes he means serious business and stops fooling around to run away from Skull, having forgotten about the others. Skull follows him like a bull in a colosseum, the shadows don’t even have a chance to blind him with their cameras as he’s already passed them.

“Nowhere to run.” Skull says once he’s finally got him where they need him to be. “Now!”

A gust of strong wind is casted as Mona launches himself in the air towards him, Panther approaching and blocking the other side. The cognitive finds himself cornered from all three sides, and the soft touch of a paw finally reaches him. It bursts in the air, ribbons exploding from where it was standing. They search his remains but find nothing in the debris.

“Wrong one.” Panther notifies everyone.

Further to their left, Noir, Queen and Fox are also chasing their respective Joker, who is currently giving them a wild goose chase. They tried to corner him like the others, but just as they were approaching him, the cognition leapt onto the crowd, stepping on them. The shadows place their legs up onto the seats in front of them, creating a bridge for him to cross on and escape their grasp.

“I have a plan, Noir I need you to throw an Accu-Speed S on him, trust me on this. Fox, once he’s affected I'll need you to cast a wide Mabufudyne on the rows of shadows near him. We’re going to freeze his passage so he’ll slip on the ice.” Makoto says.

“Excellent tactic.” Fox praises, readying himself to cast.

Noir manages to hit the cognitive thief with a bullseye as he gains more speed from the item. Just as he reaches the next row of seats, solid ice forms itself from underneath his feet and he slips with cartoonish clumsiness. He falls directly in front of Queen and she touches his shoulder.

“You’re it.” She teases.

The cognition combusts in confetti, leaving no cards behind.

“Not him either.” She yells.

“Crow, Violet, Scholar, Your team has the one with the key, don’t let him get away.” Oracles says.

“So got a plan for us Crow?” Scholar asks a bit out of breath. “Because I don't exactly have the same stamina you guys all have.”

“Hold on, I'm thinking.” Crow rest a hand on his chin in concentration.

The last cognition has stopped in its escape once it deemed itself far enough from them.

“What’s this? The all mighty detective has decided to give up on the chase? I’m disappointed.” It provokes.

“Shut up for a second.” He retorts with a grumble, not letting the jab get to him.

“How about we talk it out, there’s no need for us to chase after one another. We can find a solution in a more peaceful, less hostile way.” Scholar says to the cognitive thief.

“...Who are you?” He tilts his head in pure confusion at the man.

Crow facepalms at the ex-therapist’s stupidity. Violet just stares at the interaction.

“You may not know me, but my name is Takuto Maruki. I was a guidance counsellor.” Scholar approaches the cognitive Joker, distancing himself from them as he slowly removes his golden mask. “I am certain that we can come up with a compromise for the card that both parties can agree to.”

“What are you doing?” Crow hisses at the madman who thinks his PhD in psychology will somehow change the cognitive thief’s mind.

Like a miracle granted, the cognition slowly approaches him, still on guard, but curiosity and intrigue on his face. Akechi does not want to believe that this may be working.

“Okay, I’m game.” He complies.

“Oh wow, didn’t think that would really work.” Scholar quietly mumbles to himself. “How about this, we can make a trade. We can give you something and you can give us the key in return.”

“What’s your bargain?”

“You can choose what the terms are and we will see if we can accommodate them.” Scholar let him start.

Joker contemplates for a bit, deciding whenever or not to take the deal. He eventually nods, boring his eyes directly at the trio.

“...I want a small performance of your personal treasures, something you keep deep inside your hearts and reveal it to the stage. Monologue this, all three of you. What do you regret in your life? Do not lie or our deal is off.”

No one speaks, silence surrounds them as the question lays heavily on their mind. A few minutes pass, and just as the cognitive thief looks ready to bounce again, Violet speaks up.

“I regret letting myself live a lie for so long. I regret spending so much time pretending, impersonating, convincing myself that I was my sister Kasumi out of guilt so I could achieve our dreams. When what I really should have done is carry our legacy and live as my true self, Sumire Yoshisawa.” She says without falter as she also removes her mask.

The cognition seems content with her answer, considering he hasn’t fled from them, yet.

“And you?” He looks at Scholar.

“I-I regret erasing people’s past, their pain, their struggles. Not letting them walk their own paths, even if it may be full of sorrow, and choosing what I thought had been best for everyone. I was taught by the thieves to let people grow, let them overcome their tragedy and hardships, because no one should make decisions for others.” He answers with conviction.

“And you, Goro Akechi, what is your regret?” He saves him for last.

Akechi grits his teeth, not wanting to respond to the cognition’s demands. He knows his regrets, but refuses to display them. Hell, he already embarrassed himself enough in a lifetime by signing to obtain the last key. And yet, Violet and Scholar displayed vulnerability without judgement from the thief, no comments were made, no disgust was shown. Maybe it wouldn’t hurt too much.

“I regret falling prey to Shido’s grasp, letting him control me in my blind path for vengeance. I regret some of the actions I have done that I know I could never ask forgiveness for. I regret not having met someone like Joker earlier. But, I do not regret the path that I have walked, because I refuse for my crimes to be overwritten. I shall seek atonement in my own ways and follow my own justice.”

A long stare is returned as it looks at them in deep thoughts. His gaze especially stays longer on Crow, before a soft smirk appears on his lips. 

“That will do, thank you.” He stands next to Crow. “I do not possess the key either, but a deal is a deal so I will give you a hint of its location instead.” Crow frowns at him, realizing their game of tag has been nothing but a red herring.

“This game was rigged from the start, the Fool had decided to play smart. What you are looking for cannot be seen by the naked eye, as three impostors have turned you blind. A fourth one is hidden amongst the crowd, you need only to see from our perspective for it to be found.” He taps at his domino mask and eventually disappears, joining the replicas in nothing.

“So, we were tricked into a hunt for nothing.” Queen says. The others made their way back to the center.

“Wait? So that means there’s a fourth Joker hidden in the crowd and he’s invisible? How is that fair?” Skull complains.

“It’s like searching for a paintbrush in a stack of hay.” Fox compares.

“But didn’t he also give us a clue about how to find him, we only need to look at things from their perspective it revealed.” Violet chimes in.

“How do we even do that? We can’t exactly transform into Joker like these cognitive actors did.”

Deep in thought, a remark from Philemon resurfaces Crow’s mind when he was addressed. The message almost matches what the riddle suggests.

That gift you hold will help during your heist. You just have to see things from his perspective

Immediately, he takes out Ren’s black rimmed glasses and places them on him, having removed his whole helmet. He scans the crowd of shadows, revealing their hidden forms in the frames. There, in the center sitting in the middle of a row, his eyes connect with him. He sees another Joker, with a surprised face, on one of the seats and surveilled after two shadows. He is wearing his school jacket and strange looking handcuffs are restraining him.

Without warning, he runs towards him, yells of confusion from the others ignored from behind at his immediate departure. A blast of Eigon obliterates one of the shadows holding him with a grip, the other receiving the same treatment, dropping a key.

“You found me!” Joker says with a wide smile, the corners of his mouth reaching all the way to his cheeks.

“Ren!?” Crow gasps back.

“It’s me.” he confirms. Warmth of a sunny ray spread on his face at the reunion.

While fidgeting with the key for the shackles, he notices something sticking out of the breast pocket from the uniform, the last white card. The two faced logo staring back with an angered face and the number 4 finally completes the set. As soon as the restraints drop, Ren changes back into his metaverse attire, his domino mask returning on his face.

“Ren-Ren!!???” Skull’s loud call draws everyone’s attention towards them.

“I’m back guys.” Is all he says. He rushes from the audience towards his merry band, hugging them all in a big tight circle, forcing the other three to join in.

“We were so worried!”

“You’re okay!”

“My bro is back!”

“We thought we lost you forever!”

“I’m so happy!”

“Senpai!”

“Glad you’re with us Amamiya.”

“You guys are all here.” Joker says with the excitement of a child who just opened all of his Christmas gifts.

After their embrace, their leader fitting right back in his position, the thieves update him a bit about their exploration. Joker fails miserably to contain his laughter at Crow’s musical number while patting him on the back as he resembles a cat straight out of a bath. The crowd occupying each seat suddenly vanishes alongside the orchestra, leaving the group only, alone in the gigantic theatre-like arena. 

A fancy ticket machine appears in the center of the stage, 4 thin slots for each card. They insert each key inside, fitting perfectly with the sound of a bell and the ground rumbles. The stage below them starts to lower, descending like an elevator as they are being transported underground. After a few minutes of transportation, what they find beneath is a replica of the depths of mementos where they once battled against the Holy Grail. Only this time, none of the cages are filled like last time, and where the gigantic golden cup once was is replaced by a floating formless cloud. They have finally found the treasure room. 

“This is it, we’ve secured the path towards our final heist.” Mona says.

“This place kinda gives me the creeps.” Violet voices.

“The Holy Grail, Yaldabaoth’s previous form, resided here when he was controlling the masses. So I can say for certain Kurusu is doing the same here.” Makoto shares.

“Let’s not dawdle for too long here, we have our infiltration route cleared so let’s get working on sending the calling card and readying ourselves for our last battle.” Joker leads.

They all nod and leave the palace without objection.

Somewhere, back in his dressing room, Akira smashes the mirror with a punch. Shards of glass fall from his luxurious vanity, his fists turns bloody at the impact and cuts from the sharp edges of fragments sticks out from the ruined bleeding red glove. 

“How!? How the FUCK did they manage to obtain that last key!?” He screams at no one.

The false god answers.

It looks like your heart has failed you, Trickster. Only your carelessness is to blame towards your eventual downfall, once more.

“I don’t understand! I made sure they couldn’t find him, he was supposed to remain a ghost to the world.” Akira outrages. “So how the hell was that damn detective able to find him? Why is he even helping the thieves after everything he’s done!? Why are the thieves cooperating with this criminal? WHY THE HELL IS MY COUNTERPART HAPPY TO SEE THE ONE WHO BETRAYED US!?”

The Pawn seems to have freed its chains here and changed, although the same cannot be said for you.

“What does that mean!?”

I will leave you to your own merits as our deal has been accomplished anyways. So long Pawn of Igor, you have truly shown me a fool’s journey.

“NO! YOU CAN’T DO THIS! ANSWER ME DEMIURGE!” He desperately yells at the void.

The false god disappears as abruptly as it appeared. No answers.

Akira looks back at the shattered mirror, only to find a broken and exhausted phantom of a memory. Anger melts from his mind, as questions he’s been ignoring starts to spill like a leak in a tank. Thoughts and doubts drowns him as he doubles over and falls to the floor in a balled position, trying to keep sanity. Was his deal with the false god the right decision? Did Akira really feel the need to continue playing the strong and fearless leader of the Phantom Thieves? What value is a leader if there is no one lead? What worth are his powers, his strength, his changes of hearts if they are worthless in an enslaved world of his own making? Why does he feel so lonely when he is loved so much by the public? What was the point of revenge against Akechi if he still feels like he’s lost? What is he supposed to do now? What are his teammates doing over there without him?

Akira’s resolve wavers for a few minutes. He knows the calling card will soon be delivered. A small thought tells him he’s capable of stopping them. Another conjures that he can finally destroy them all once they try to steal his treasure underneath his palace, an ironic defeat. Can he really face himself? He lets the lie lead him, it’s the only thing keeping him glued together after all, and leaves to go await for his card. Why didn’t the plan work? Why does he feel so alone?

Chapter Text

They all return back to Leblanc, the attic looking exactly the same as they left it.

“Ok guys, we just need to deliver the calling cards tomorrow and then we can steal the treasure and revert the world back to its original state.” Morgana meows.

“Could you guys hear the cat talking the entire time?” Maruki asks as he hears the feline in this form for the first time. They all nod their heads.

“I am not!- well I guess I am, sorry force of habit.” He says.

“How are we going to deliver it?” Ann questions.

“What if we make it big like with Shido’s palace?” Ryuji suggested.

“No one likes a cheap sequel.” Futaba declines. “Maybe we should have one of us deliver it personally to him?”

“Wouldn’t that be dangerous, if he lashes out and attacks us our plans fall straight in the water? And not to mention, but how are we going to even find him? Mr. Sakura mentioned he barely stays at LeBlanc.” Haru warns.

“What if I deliver it to him in Mementos. I suspect Kurusu spends most of his time down there according to the numerous changes of hearts.” Akechi volunteers, surprising everyone with his offer.

“Isn’t that even more dangerous? Kurusu looks like he personally has it out for you.” Sumire questions.

“I think I get where you’re going with this.” Ren supports, already figured out Akechi’s plan. “You’re the best candidate to lure him out and deliver the calling card because he despises you. I am assuming you are using yourself as bait.”

“Precisely.” He confirms. “It’s going to be risky, but I am going to challenge him so he falls for it and reads the card. I am also gambling on the rivalry both versions of us seem to share to taunt him.”

“Ok then if you’re sure, Akechi we leave the card to you. Let us know when we can go and steal the treasure. In the meantime, everyone, gather as much supplies, tools, medicine and rest up. I have a feeling we are going to be facing one hell of a fight.” Mona says.

Everyone leaves their separate ways.

“Akechi.” Ren stops him.

“Anything you want to discuss?”

“Nothing important, I just wanted to say thank you for your help, and for leading the team.”

“No need to thank me, I only did what needed to be done.”

“And also, I wanted to ask if you would like to stay here? We could play a few rounds of chess and enjoy some coffee before we separate again.” Ren asks.

“If you wish.” He says with a sight, despite taking the offer without complaint and a sly grin.

The next day, in the path of Sheriruth, Crow is reeking havoc on this floor, slaughtering shadows with his crimson sword without mercy. Screaming loudly to make sure his violent voice echoes throughout the entirety of Mementos. Footsteps are eventually heard, as Akira makes himself present.

“You!” He spits.

“Me?” Crow asks with a hand on his chest, acting like he hasn’t done anything wrong. The taunt is effectively working as Akira equips his dagger in his hand.

“The others aren’t with you. Did they finally open their eyes and abandon you for the criminal trash you are?”

“I simply came here for the same reason you suspect.” Akechi throws him the calling card and he swiftly catches it.

“And what made you think I would read this? That I wouldn’t just kill you right here and get everything over with? What kind of poorly thought out plan is this? Or where you just getting that desperate to the point you would present your head to me?”

“You could, but isn’t that going against your original goal? A quick death would simply be mercy by your terms. You wouldn’t be satisfied at all. No, I propose a challenge instead. A rematch. You read the calling card I have given you, and you may set the stage however you like when we come for the treasure. You gain the upper hand by having time to prepare to sabotage our heist. A bit like I had the chance in Sae’s casino.” Akira’s eyes perk up a bit at the suggestion, without revealing any expression on his face. Akechi got him. 

“One last performance, a grand finale for the audience. It would be such a shame for the leader of the Phantom Thieves to turn down this rare opportunity.” Akechi taunts.

Akira grits his teeth and ponders for a few long minutes, toying with the grip of his weapon a bit before eventually deciding. “Fine. I accept. I look forward to your pathetic downfall.”

He reads the card.

Akira Kurusu , the leading star of Acedia who neglected their morals and role as the leader of the Phantom Thieves of Heart. Your lack of care towards humanity and blind wrath has tainted our world in sloth . Thus, we have decided to steal the spotlight and revert our reality to its true state. 

From, the Phantom Thieves of Hearts and your rival

“I will be waiting, there won’t be an encore detective.” Akira leaves.

In the depths of the palace, the thieves find Akira Kurusu, waiting patiently for them. The once empty cages are now filled with an audience as they cheer and rattle behind their bars. Strange shapes hidden underneath velvet cloths are scattered around the room.

An expensive looking cane in his hand replaces his dagger. His Joker attire is changed to a black elegant ringer leader’s tailcoat with silver chains. A tall hat similar to Arsene’s resting neatly on his raven. A small microphone rests on the side of his face as Akira greets them.

“Welcome to the grand finale, I will be your ringmaster. Tonight you are about to experience a never before seen performance. So make sure to keep your eyes wide and stay on the edge of your seats.”

“Man does everything have to be so over the top for you? We get it’s for dramatic effect but we’re getting tired of this bullshit.” Skull says.

Ignoring him, Akira’s persona appears behind as blue flames surround him then burst in an explosion, the fire licks at the fabric and burns it, revealing underneath several circus structures. Giant trampolines, Tall metal ladders, silk ropes fall from the sky and a large strange seesaw looking thing fills the room. The crows erupt in anticipation, yet for some reason, Joker can discern some nervousness radiating off of his double.

“The act is simple, whoever can grab the treasure first will be the victor of our little competition. You may use any of the equipment here to try and grab it. There will be no cheating by using your little navigator to grab the treasure. And with that, we begin.” 

The treasure shines in the arena like a star, revealing itself to be Joker’s white domino mask. It floats above the arena, hovering impossibly height for anyone to catch it. Akira immediately grabs one of the silk ropes and starts to climb up, not wasting any time at all.

“Yo so I hate to be the bearer of bad news… but none of us knows how to effin use any of this shit!” Skull panics.

“He’s treating us like goddamn carnival monkeys!” Crow bristle in place.

“What are we going to do?” Noir nervously asks.

“Do you think if we trick our brains, we could use cognition to be able to perform like circus artists? I mean, I’ve seen you guys travel around my palace and move effortlessly through strange terrain, so it wouldn't be too far-fetched to do so right?” Scholar suggests.

“Never noticed that but it’s worth a shot. Violet, if you are able to, try to use the trampoline and see if you can jump high enough to reach the treasure, Fox, Panther and Queen, assist her please. Skull, Noir, and Mona, try to climb using these ladders, make sure some of you stabilize the thing and catch each other if one of you falls. Maruki and Oracles, I’m going to need you both on healing duty when some of us injure ourselves. Crow, with me we’re trying our hands at the teeterboard.” Joker rapidly devises.

They all separate themselves in their groups while Akira continues his climb, he dramatically waves his hat in the air to the public, occasionally blowing them a kiss. Violet positions herself on the trampoline, guiding the two others. They coordinate their timing to launch Violet higher with their weight as she gains height every time. Unfortunately, before she is able to get higher than Akira, he throws a strong gust of wind in her direction. She is blown away from the treasure and dangerously falls back on the trampoline. He laughs and continues his climb.

“What the hell! he’s cheating!” Oracles yells.

“I almost had it.” Violet says disappointed.

“You did your best, thank you. Scholar, please heal her.” Joker says. “Change of plan guys, I’ll need some of you to take care of our ringleader.”

In position below Akira, Noir violently shakes the long fabric, trying to make him lose his grip. He barely budged, but his pace slows at the very least.

“Fox, can you try to freeze this?” She asks.

With a cast of ice shooting upwards, he is unable to reach Akira’s height, only falling short behind him. Mona sends a similar wind, making the fabric move in the air. Akira is slowing down even more, yet he is already halfway to the treasure.

Joker and Crow try their chance at the teeterboard. Moving it right below the floating mask.

“Think you can keep up?” Joker teases.

“Oh please. Same to you, don’t fall behind.”

Starting low, they jump one after the other on opposite ends of the structure. Joker can’t help himself and performs a few twirls and backflips in the air. Crow scoffs at the fool, but eventually joins himself, performing several summersaults of his own. They keep at it, also starting to close the distance between the treasure, yet they are also unable to reach it. Sweat falls from their faces and their muscles aches, although laughter and praise are exchanged at each trick they execute as the pair almost find themselves in their own little world.

“I have an idea!” Violet approaches the duo, pushing the trampoline with the help of the others near their direction. They place it near one of the ends of the see saw, adjusting it for their plan. “Everyone! With me!”

The rest of the thieves all gather on the trampoline, but not without hitting Akira with a lucky dizzy ailment. Understanding Violet’s intentions, they all get on the trampoline with her, including Crow, and link their hands with each other getting ready to launch their leader as high as they can. She counts down.

“3, 2, 1!”

Joker is propelled on the other side, surpassing his double as he reaches the heavens. With his grappling hook, he aims it mid air and manages to grab the treasure with wild precision, bridging it towards him. He falls back down, feeling like time moves in slow motion, eventually landing upon the trampoline they set underneath him. With a victorious show of hand, he displays the captured mask. The audience goes wild with applauds and screams of excitement at the triumph, deafening the arena. But all is not done.

All of a sudden, with a snap of the fingers, the audience disappears in their cages, the circus equipment vanishing alongside them. Akira heavily lands from the sky, the impact cracking the floor underneath him with a loud boom. The treasure disappears from Joker’s hand and finds itself in Akira’s instead, with a wicked smile.

“Are you going back on our deal!” Crow spits at him.

“Like you guys expect me to play fair? Oh come on detective, you should have known. After all, we both play dirty.” Akira argues, keeping a tight grip on the treasure and backing away from them, like a rabbit animal.

“We won the challenge, give us the treasure.”

“Yeah! Didn’t expect you to be a sore loser.”

“You have no right to mess with our world!”

“We will take that treasure back and bring everything back to normal!”

“It’s 11 against 1, you are completely outnumbered!”

“Shut up! You will have to rip it off my corpse in that case! Try me! I’ve managed to defeat the Reaper alone. Finish them Monte Cristo!” Akira screams at them.

“Crow! Scholar! Noir! On the frontlines with me. Everyone else back us up.” Joker commands.

A surge of energy is thrown their way and Akira wastes no time casting Vacuum wave. Soon followed by Dormina, effectively hitting Noir. She slumps as sleep consumes her at the start of the battle. After casting a quick Amrita drop from Scholar, Crow sends a Debilitate towards the opponent. Joker goes for the attack with his dagger, but it gets repelled back, hurting him instead.

“I’m powerful enough to carry the thieves by myself!”

Noir and Maruki dodges the strong wave of Wage War, unfortunately, Crow and Joker receive the ailment straight to the face. The aura surrounding them changes as they both rage at the doppelganger, blind attacks are thrown. Crow rebounds his Laevateinn, injuring him greatly, the same is done with Joker as he knocks himself down with his own lucky critical slashes. A wave of green surges over them as their wounds close completely, yet the ailment remains on the duo. Akira neutralizes his weakened skills with a heat riser.

“I am Joker! Leader of the Phantom Thieves! A hero of the public!”

“Quit you’re fucking bragging you damn narcissist!” Crow irritates.

“Joker and Crow are still enraged, someone calm them down!” Oracles requests.

Scholar tries to calm them down, even while panicking a bit at the situation. You can do this, he mentally tells himself. All these years studying in psychology weren’t for nothing, even if he might have used his learnings to manipulate a few things, as much as he hates to admit it. By some miracle, both members were able to snap themselves out of the ailment, the red aura reducing from them.

Akira violently points towards Crow. “Why? Why are you fighting alongside that wretched traitor? You know damn well what he did to them! To us! It’s his fault we ended up in that room!”

He sends a Deadly Fury towards Crow, wounding him as he grits out a swear. Another attempt of rage ailment is spread over the team, this one missing them.

“I understand your anger.” Joker tries to reason.

“Bullshit! You wouldn’t be here if you did. None of you would! I finally have everything he took from me! I refuse to go back!” He yells. A Megidolean is unleashed.

“Do you really? Because you don’t seem happy at all.” Scholar asks him. Akira visibly hesitates. “From what I can see, even with the world praising the Phantom Thieves, you don’t seem happy with your life one bit. Why are you lying to yourself?”

“Quiet! You have no right to ask me that! I don’t even know who the fuck you are!” He seethes.

“What happened to your teammates? To us over there?” Skull tries. Akira looks like the question has burned him. He shrinks just a bit.

“Were we not important enough to you to share the stage in your palace?” Fox chimes in.

“N-No! I just.” Akira trembles.

“Did you think everything would be the same here?” Noir questions.

“What were you searching for in our timeline?”

“Why didn’t you rely on your team more?”

“How did you end up alone?”

“Stop! Stop talking! Everyone shut up!” Akira bursts.

He isn’t thinking anymore, throwing random attacks in clear desperation, most are aimed towards Crow. Several switches between members were made, a few revivals where needed, a lot of items consumed and thrown around. Eventually, the thieves manage to chip away at the thief due to his distraction, the boy growing more violent by the minutes. Akira fully focused solely on Crow, he completely ignores the group’s presence. Or didn’t want to acknowledge it. Joker and Crow finally manage the last blow with a Showtime, Akira limps, Monte Cristo perishing behind him. A look of anguish and hysterics shakes in his yellow eyes. It’s hard for Joker to look at him.

“How come you survived? What did I do wrong?” Akira tantrums at his counterpart.

“What happened to the plan?” Joker asks after things have calmed down. Trying to keep his poker face, it’s not working.

“You mean the plan where I’m pressured to go alongside everyone’s suggestions just because there was no other way? Where I had to gamble with my life in a scheme full of holes only to earn one in my head? The plan where I get beaten until my bones break? Where I got drugged until I could only feel as if I was drowning? Where I got screamed at until my eardrums bursts? Tortured for hours without mercy? Interrogated until the pain is too much to bear and I am forced to spill everything!? Akira wails.

The recollection is enough for everyone to recoil. Several look down in shame. Crow specifically as he digs his gauntlet into his arm.

“Dude…” He hears Skull start in the saddest tone he’s heard, Joker stops him by raising his hand in a stop motion, taking the lead since he’s the only one to truly understand.

“So you failed to convince Sae Nijima to show the phone. Did you tell her who the members were?” Joker quietly asks.

“I don’t remember what I told her, I was so out of it with their stupid fucking drugs pumped in my veins.” Akira spits. “Next thing I knew, he entered the room after killing a guard. He smiled at us with a cruel face and pointed that gun like we were nothing but trash to him. So when that entity found us, how could I not refuse his offer? I was promised power to enact my revenge, make him suffer far beyond death. I could continue being Joker, and keep changing hearts in the Metaverse.”

“...I know this won’t change anything, but I understand some of your predicament. I still feel the traces of needles burn my flesh.” Ren shares. He rolls up a sleeve, showing one of his arms decorated with scars from the needle holes to Akira. “I still feel the ugly bruises on my skin, the cracks of my bones fracturing, the insults and pressure from those officers. Sleepless nights after the event haunted me for days, weeks, and they never left. I can’t forget the anger, sadness, or torment towards his actions. I admit I sometimes thought about getting revenge, about making him pay for all that I had to go through. I don’t think I could ever forgive him for the pain he inflicted on all of us.”

“Then why!? Why do you look at him with those eyes? Why do you fight together like you're both equals? Why did you care enough to bring him back?” Akira desperately searches.

“Honestly, I sometimes wonder about that myself. Maybe call it my delusional savior complex, or my obsession towards helping people. But all of us have seen what blind wrath does to a person. I’ve seen it consume them to the point they hurt, destroy and kill the lives of people and families. I resolved to not let myself be shackled down by my hatred and live, focusing on the good aspects. I enjoy talking with him, discovering his likes and dislikes, his preferred coffee brew, his intolerance towards spicy food, his secret fondness towards Feathermen. I liked hanging out together, visiting places around Tokyo when we had time, relaxing at LeBlanc or at Jazz Jin, basking in the calm atmosphere. The thrill of fighting shadows side by side knowing we have each other covered, and the excitement whenever we find a treasure chest in Mementos. It’s fun competing against one another, we grew and improved together thanks to any silly little challenges. I got to learn who he truly is when he is not hiding behind his detective façade, his more snappy, rude, vicious personality. I was able to hear about his worldview, his not so pleasant experience while growing up, his hatred towards his father, his own idea of justice. I could see he was similar to us, wronged by the adults who abused their powers, denied a helping hand from anyone and left alone with nothing. We all saw a part of ourselves within him, we all once turned our backs on the world. But he was able to change and shift his belief. He sacrificed himself and gave up his life goal so that we could change the heart of the bastard who ruined countless lives. I know that none of these cancels out his actions or my sufferings. I empathize with how you feel. Even so, I decided to move forward and live without being clouded by revenge. He is my rival, and I care about the promise we made.” Joker answers. Taking off his mask and meeting eye to eye with his double.

“The same goes for me, I know how much Ren cares about him. I know the hell that Akechi went through as a child and I can relate to some of it. That will never excuse him for murdering my mom. But just like Ren, I decided to keep going without these feelings holding me back.” Oracles adds.

“Me too. I still dislike him and will never forgive him for what he did to my father. Although, I have much more important things to do then to waste it away trying to get revenge.” Noir replies, earning a quiver from Akira.

“...I see. I admit, I am jealous, especially of you other me. I wished I had that same resolve. But none of that matters anymore.” He tiredly admits.

“...Saying this won’t change what the both of us have done to you, but I still wanted to let you know that I am sorry, for everything.” Crow apologizes, having taken off his helmet to meet his eyes.

“No, it doesn't. I will forever curse you for killing me, regardless of your reasoning. Even so, I wished I experienced the same good things my counterpart had the chance to, maybe then I wouldn’t have been so blind. But, I’m too tired now. Tired of everything. There is nothing left for me, not even here, it’s just not the same. I don’t care anymore.” Akira somber.

He thinks back to the early days with his thieves. Back when Ryuji had invited him for ramen after recently discovering Kamoshida’s palace. When he went shopping with Ann while she made him carry all of her bags, carrying two crepes in her hands. When the group officially decided to change the hearts of the corrupted, celebrating at that fancy buffet. At the numerous locations Yusuke has brought him for inspiration for his next painting. At the thieves' growing members, their stupid little banter between each other, making fun and laughter together. Their early inexperience in the Metaverse as they stumbled their way with trial and errors. Akira wished they did more of these little things. Looking at the thieves during the circus acts filled him with jealousy and loneliness. Why did he stop?

“I can’t return to my world, I will never see my friends again, my home, my teammates, my family. I have no future.”

“...” The thieves have no words to try to comfort the lonely boy. Some raise their hands to objects, to reassure him he still has something, but they all know it to be pointless.

The tragic realization is enough for him to decide. Gathering himself up in a shaky state, Akira knows he is a dead man walking who is just prolonging his eventual downfall. He accepts that fact. Something within him burns, he feels radiating warmth in his heart, the same when Monte Cristo appeared.

“I know It is too late and I will be dragged down and sink until my soul is lost forever. But even so, I will try the last with my body and hold out until my dying breath.” Akira says as he struggles to stay standing. With a weakened tone, and exhaustion clear, Akira calls. “Let’s await our execution, Macbeth.”

A colossal persona is summoned above Akira, almost the same size as Satanael. Its face cries in eternal tears as it is blinded by an elaborate golden crown. Its crimson blood stained hands stretched towards no one with heavy mediaeval handcuffs loudly clinging in the wind. Its noble clothes are shredded as he floats like a reaper in the sky while a damaged sword hovers around him.

“Always one for dramatics I see.” Crow scoffs without bite. Akira just barely chuckles a sad laugh without further words.

“Careful everyone! It’s charging up for something big!” Oracles warns.

Everyone tries to shield themselves from the incoming impact of the gigantic persona. An enormous slash from the blade knocks out a good portion of the team. Noir, Fox, Panther, Queen and Skull go down in one fell swoop. 

“What have I done?” Akira whimpers to himself.

The weapon rises once more, ready to strike again. The thieves try to revive their fallen allies, but only manage to do so before the second drop of the sword hits them. This time, Scholar, Violet, Skull, Mona, Noir, Joker and Crow stand on their feet.

“I was wrong, none of this was worth it.”

Only Joker and Crow are left.

“I should have known better.”

“I should have spent more time with them.”

“I miss them.”

Only Joker remains.

“I don’t want this anymore.”

“Where am I supposed to go from here?”

One last colossal strike from the persona completely misses as its sword gets stuck on the floor, leaving Joker completely on his last legs. With his little remaining strength, Joker points his Tyrant Pistol R towards its head, and shoots. Macbeth falls backward, a gigantic hole replaces its face like Yaldabaoth once did. The persona dissolves, blue flames and particles following behind and Akira falls to the floor, letting his tears run. With a Saintly Devotion from Joker’s Maria, the team recovers and lifts themselves up. Akira grieves. The group watches him, feeling sorry for the fallen leader.

“Take the treasure. I’m finished.” Akira breathes in defeat, taking out the domino mask. It transforms, revealing his broken black glasses with dried blood on the sides. He holds it out towards his other self with shaky hands. Without a word, Joker quietly walks towards himself, and gently wraps his arms around the fragile body instead. They both laze in the exhaustion, the only sounds coming from the mournful boy. The rest of his thieves hesitate a bit, but eventually also approach them, sympathizing with him. None say anything as they join the bittersweet embrace, comforting the embodied possibility of their friend.

“I’m sorry everyone…” Joker almost didn’t catch the hushed whisper.

“You did what you could. You tried your best.” He replies softly, hugging his double tighter.

A familiar golden butterfly appears in the aftermath of the battlefield, transforming into Philemon. He calmly steps towards the defeated Akira, a gentle expression behind his face.

“Your existence is not lost forever as I do have a solution. Although, it sorely depends on you. I will make you an offer. If you wish so, I can return you to your timeline where Akira Kurusu has died. Your deal with the false god of sloth was never made and the world continues without you, reverting this timeline’s state before your arrival. However, you will still have a purpose. I will not inform you on the specifics since it is your choice to gamble on the matter. On the other hand, you can help fight the Demiurge here, once he is defeated, this reality will revert back to its original state and you will be erased forever, drifting into nothingness.” Philemon says, reaching his hand towards him.

Akira looks at the man with broken eyes, his sorrows quieting to soft sobs and hiccups. 

“Why?” He quietly murmurs.

“You simply remind me of an old guest of mine. He also traversed between timelines, even if his reasons were different. I offered him a similar deal with its own sacrifices. I believe you would benefit from the same.” The man answers.

He gives a tiny nod of head, and reaches out to Philemon’s hand.

“I want to go back, please.” Akira whispers.

He gives the mournful boy a soft smile and lifts him up. He faces the silent group who views the exchange.

“Well the time has come for us to part ways.”

He removes his mask, revealing Goro Akechi’s face beneath.

“I am the one who dwells in the rift between human consciousness and unconsciousness. I am thou. Thou art I. I am always within you, watching over you. Farewell.”

They both convert into butterflies, fluttering out of existence. No one has the time to say anything, as the world around them shatters like glass. fragments of this false world disintegrate. Joker and Crow exchange a fond look, and everything disappears.

A few months has passed, Ren testified against Masayoshi Shido with the help of Sae Nijima, successfully winning the case against him. He was also sent to juvie for a while due to his crime of leading the Phantom Thieves, however, he was discharged quickly after his friends managed to track down the woman he saved back at his hometown, effectively erasing his record. He said his goodbyes to everyone before his trip back home, receiving small gifts before his departure. Even his past counsellor, now turned taxi driver, was able to say his farewell and gave him a ride towards his station. He bumped into Sumire in the station, getting ready for her upcoming gymnastic competition. Hopping on the train with Morgana smuggled in his bag, they make themselves comfortable. Just as the train departs, the seat next to him sinks a bit as the weight makes themselves noticeable.

“I found you again.”

Somewhere else, in a parallel time, a boy finds himself in a ruined world of his own making. Blood drips from the heavens while none of the trespasser notices. Bones and skeletons emerged from the ground, reaching the heights of some skyscrapers. The newly elected president is nowhere to be found, as if he simply vanished from thin air. Tokyo has drowned into madness and chaos, yet no one bats an eye. At the corner of his view, he catches a glowing blue door, clashing against the crimson city. He advances towards it, entranced by the otherworldly air it gives, and enters. He finds himself in a sea of blue surrounding him. Sitting on a desk with an impossibly long nose, is a strange looking man sitting at a desk.

“Welcome to the Velvet Room, my name is Igor. I am delighted to make your acquaintance. This is my assistant. He is a resident here like myself. He will act as your guide towards your rehabilitation.” The man says with a high nasal voice.

A boy looking around his age stands to his side, giving him a foggy sense of deja vu. He has a messy unnatural white crown of hair and golden yellow eyes. A royal blue tailcoat resembling a ringleader’s with golden accessories and white gloves fitted. Nothing on his face the lost boy mindlessly remarks. He gives a gentle bow.

“Pleasure to meet you, I am Akira.”

The end.