Chapter Text
The fox poked and prodded at its mother, yet she did not wake up. Its siblings were fast asleep as well, curled up inside of their mom’s silver coat.
The cub’s paws were shaking. It had woken up to these bright, orange lights engulfing their den’s surroundings. It wanted to get away from the bright lights, but it couldn’t wake up his family.
The cub scrambled outside of the den and headed west, where there were no bright lights, its feet leaving marks in the white stuff that covered the world around him.
Seconds later, the cub was an adult who had found a new family. This new family only ate meat and travelled in large groups.
He sat near the back, watching as they devoured the giant horned creature before him.
The foxes were much bigger and stronger than him, so they always ate first. He always had to search for scraps of meat clinging off the bone to fill his belly.
After they finished their meal, leaving nothing but the skeleton of the horned creature, they pounced on him and held him down.
He struggled with all his might, but he couldn’t do anything. He couldn’t hurt them because they were his family. They took him in when he was alone and cared for him.
So instead of struggling, he lay on the ground, allowing them to tear him apart bone by bone.
….
He couldn’t breathe. It felt like something had seized his lungs and was squeezing all of the oxygen out of him. His body wouldn’t move, even as he begged his limbs to listen.
He gasped for air and sat up. He grabbed his chest with one hand while the other held the fabric beneath him. His heart was still pounding against his ribs. He inhaled and exhaled, again and again, until his body had stopped shaking and his heart had slowed down.
Akira’s senses assembled back into place. He took a look around from where he sat. He recognized this place, a familiar velvet blue invading his vision.
Why had he been called to the Velvet Room? He could remember falling to the ground after watching the God of Control disappear into nothingness. Had he just fallen asleep and lost consciousness? Why was he still alive?
Was everything he had seen just a dream? Had he and his phantom thieves won?
He tried to stand, but as he did, his legs caved under the weight of his own body. His arms flailed about, searching for something to grab onto until he fell to his knees. He pulled at his hair as his kneecaps stung.
He could feel the figure of a young girl standing over.
“Trickster…” She said.
Lavenza carried a smile, yet her eyes betrayed her face. He could tell that she was trying to hide her pity.
The scream that had once been itching its way through his throat and into his mouth had nearly reached his voice.
Lavenza’s tiny arms wrap around him. His body remembered this feeling, and it terrified him.
“I am sorry, my Trickster. The Phantom Thieves are no-”
He pounded his fists against the floor. “I know!”
His eyes felt watery. “I know, god dammit...”
He remembered everything, from his friends' limp bodies to the god of control disintegrating into little flakes of light.
In a fit of rage, he had been able to gather all his remaining strength into calling upon Satanel and shot a hole through Yaldabaoth’s head. It had been gratifying to watch the god of control fade away, but eventually he turned around to find his friends having not moved one inch. He had cried one last time before his vision grew dark and he fell to the ground.
What did they say when they died? Did they call out for their leader? Did they curse his name as they watched as he continued his fight against the god of control? He couldn't remember.
He could still feel the remains of his bonds lingering in the back of his mind. How did the people below in the streets of Shibuya feel as they became one with Mementos? What did his friends think? They all had known of his status as a phantom thief. Did they curse him too?
He cried into the little attendant’s shoulder and hugged her back.
The phantom thieves’ leader, fearless and courageous, now reduced to a little child.
He was pitiful.
He had felt someone else gaze boring into him. He looked over Lavenza’s shoulder and found an old man with his hands folded together.
It was Igor, the true Igor, but he did not bear his usual ominous smirk.
He let go of the little attendant and stumbled to his feet, and returned the long-nosed man’s gaze.
“First, I’d like to congratulate you, Trickster. In your final moments, you were able to see through the lies of this world and utilize the hope of humanity, unleashing your anger against the god of control, releasing its grasp from your world.”
He looked down at his hands, realizing his phantom thief outfit was still on.
He clenched his fists. “Yeah…”
He felt as two tiny hands pulled down his right arm and clutched his hand. “Trickster. There is something we must tell you. Something that you deserve to know.” She stared at the floor.
He watched as Lavenza exchanged a glance with the old man until she looked at her feet. “I am uncertain how I might be able to tell you this without sounding so harsh.”
Lavenza’s downcast face did not suit her, making him feel quite uncomfortable. A sense of dread was building within his stomach.
Her grip on his hand tightened. “I’m sorry, Trickster, for what I am about to say. From the very beginning, ever since this world’s conception. You were always going to fail. ”
He turned towards her. “...I’m sorry?”
“I wish there were a better way to tell you this, my Trickster. I know you must be outraged right now. Not only have you been forced to play by these unforgiving and unfair rules, but there was no possible outcome in which you truly won this game against that malevolent god.”
He looked towards Igor, his look of sympathy and pity only confirming Lavenza’s horrifying statements.
His legs crumbled, and he fell on his knees once more, inflicting more pain onto his already bruised kneecaps.
His body ached. Was it because of his injuries? He thought he had already cast some sort of heal on himself at some point during the battle. How had he become so weak?
His crying turned to mangled shouting, his tears burning against his skin.
Never before had taking his life ever crossed his mind. There was nothing that kept him anchored. No goals, no ideals.
His weapons were only an arm away from him. The only thing he needed to do was
Igor raised his hand. “I know what you are thinking.”
He moved his head in surprise, but he didn’t stop crying.
“It is quite understandable, your current train of thought. The path present before you has abruptly come to a stop. All journeys must come to an end, but I must ask that you reconsider this line of thinking, Trickster.”
Igor put his hand to his chin. “As has been said before, your world was fated for ruin since the beginning. We did not tell you of your world’s fate as knowledge of an insurmountable future would not have aided you in your journey as a Trickster. But after witnessing you defy your supposed inescapable fate and defeating the god of control, it is possible that we were wrong.”
Igor raised his hand again. “Unfortunately, there is nothing we can do now, Trickster. I am sorry.”
“So everything I’ve done was all for nothing?!” He yelled through his sobbing, his throat beginning to feel hoarse. “My friends are gone! Everything is gone! Why should I have to keep on living?!”
The old man unfolded his hands. “Yes. Everything you’ve done has been for nothing. The malevolent god, while dead, still was able to merge mementos with your world. All you have done was for naught.
“But Trickster, I ask that you cease your current thoughts and listen to what I have to offer. I understand this will be difficult, but I won’t take very long.”
His sobs grew softer. He wanted to listen to Igor. Something inside of him was still clinging onto life and wanted to use Igor’s words as an excuse.
He tried to stand and stumbled, his knees nearly collapsing again, until Lavenza grabbed him with surprising strength and helped haul him up to his feet.
He watched as the old man and the attendant exchanged glances. “As I have said before, Trickster, your world was fated to perish. Perhaps it was even created for that purpose. Humanity was always going to fall at the hands of the god of control. But something unexpected happened, something even I cannot understand.
“You destroyed the god of control, which was something not intended by fate. It is in your nature for you to do what the masses cannot. But you are the first amongst all of those I have observed to defy fate as you did.”
His head perked up. “Others...?”
“Tricksters exist within every reality. I have welcomed nearly all of them into the Velvet Room as guests, aiding them in their fate and guiding them however I saw fit. But unlike them, you were able to defy the fate cast upon your world, even if you weren’t able to save it.”
The old man put his hand to his chin. “Even someone like myself cannot understand why this is. I have my speculations, but...”
He could feel the old man’s eyes boring into him.
“I don’t understand what you’re trying to say…”
Igor stretched his hand out towards him. “Serve this Velvet room, and help guide other Tricksters against the ruin that fate has sent against them.”
Akira tilted his head.
“There is a reason why these worlds must follow certain constants so that these realities would not crumble. After witnessing your ability to defy fate, I believe that it may be possible for us to gain insight into what that reason is through you.”
The old man folded his hands together. “Not only that but through your ability to defy fate, it may be possible for you to help prevent other Tricksters’ worlds from facing destruction.”
Akira watched as the old man and the little attendant exchanged glances.
Lavenza looked up at him. “If you were to accept my Master’s offer, the world that he would first send you to would be very similar to your own, Trickster.”
His head perked up. “What do you mean?”
“In this world, the Phantom Thieves have yet to form.”
He froze.
“No, it can’t be that simple, right?”
“As my master has already said, this is only a world similar to yours. It is not your own.”
If only for a second, he could feel his chest tense up at the thought of seeing his best friends once again. But he knew it wouldn't have been so easy. He had held his friends in his arms and had felt through his gloves the unfamiliar cold their bodies gave off. It was a feeling he would never forget.
His hands shivered uncontrollably. He shoved them into his pockets.
“Even if I accepted your offer, what would I do about my world? I can’t just leave it behind…”
“You don’t need to, Trickster.” The old man paused for a moment, holding his hands out as if he was sculpting something out of a piece of clay. A flash of light surrounded the old man’s hands, then when Akira turned around, there floated a crystal pendant that shined a blue hue.
“I’m afraid that bringing your world back from ruin is outside of my power, Trickster. No one has that power. But what I can do for you is reforge your world into this.” Igor allowed the pendant to float freely above his hand.
The old man chuckled. “There aren’t many options available to you other than to surrender yourself to death. But, Trickster, do you truly believe that you’d resign yourself to do nothing but watch as these worlds faced a ruin similar to yours?”
“I know. I couldn’t, but…” Akira’s vision became fuzzy once again, his eyes stung.
Igor made a pushing motion with his hand as the pendant flew its way to him. He let go of Lavenza’s hand and took the necklace, holding it tightly against his chest.
It was surprisingly cold. So cold that Akira could feel its chill beneath the gloves of his phantom thief attire.
He couldn’t hold back his tears. “I’m sorry…”
He could feel a little hand grab a chunk of fabric from his pants.
He slipped the pendant over his head, its coldness bringing a sense of familiarity that he didn’t know a piece of jewelry could bring. “Did you really turn my world into this little necklace?”
The old man chuckled. “Yes, what resides within that pendant is indeed your world, reforged and reborn to take the shape of this crystal pendant. There are many things within my domain of power, and this is one of the things I can do when I am at my strongest.”
He smiled. “I see. Thank you, Igor.”
“You needn’t think anything of it, Trickster.”
The old man smiled again. “I believe I can infer that you have accepted my offer?”
Akira nodded. “I don’t have many other options.”
He looked at Lavenza. “...I just can’t allow these other worlds to face the same ruin that mine did.” Especially if they contained the phantom thieves he once knew.
She smiled at him.
“But, I have a question.”
The old man stared into him.
“How exactly is this whole ‘attendant’ thing gonna work? Is there some sort of initiation process we have to go through…?”
He saw that Lavenza giggled, and the old man’s smile widened. He could feel his face turn a little red.
“No, there is no initiation process, Trickster. All you must do is guide these Tricksters against their fates as you once did with your own. You do not need to consider this work per se or that you are my attendant.”
The old man coughed into his fist. “Now then, I would not like to waste any more time. Before I send you off, I must inform you of a few things.”
“As I have mentioned, the world that you will be assigned to is extremely similar to your own. Not only that, but the passage of time flows similarly as well, and the events that unfold will no doubt be analogous to one another.”
Akira stood there in silence.
“What my master wishes to express is that for reality to remain standing, time and fate require that we must abide by several constants so that the Trickster figure will fight whatever evil lurks in that reality. Each reality functions this way. From what we have observed, nearly identical worlds sometimes follow several constants for this to occur. Though our memories do not falter, we must endure these constants.”
“Yaldabaoth…” He looked towards Lavenza. “Justine and Caroline…”
Igor smiled. “Yes, that will indeed be the case.”
“But, couldn’t I just fight Yaldabaoth instead? He’ll be weaker than when he was in my world, right? And why does Lavenza have to be split into two again? Couldn’t you do something that wouldn’t mess with these constants?”
“For your first question, whatever evil lurks within these realities must be confronted by the Trickster of that world alone. I can only imagine the consequences of another Trickster attempting to defy this universal law.
Igor paused for a moment. “For your second question, unfortunately, I cannot do anything. My encounter with the god of control and my attendant being split are some of this world’s constants. Minor variations can occur as these realities are not entirely the same. Still, for reasons I do not know of, realities with many similarities follow several constants that cannot be broken.”
Lavenza smiled at him. “You needn’t worry about us, Trickster. My master will take care of everything on our end. You just need to worry about yourself and the phantom thieves.”
Akira nodded. “What kind of variations will occur in this world?”
He looked towards Igor. “There are many, but the most notable variation will be this reality’s Trickster.”
He tilted his head.
“It is as my master says. This Trickster is a female. Her personality may vary from you, but she takes the role that you once took. Other variations within this world shall not interfere with your work.”
Igor nodded towards Lavenza. She bowed and procured a familiar notebook.
“This shall be your compendium. As you will be unable to utilize the Velvet Room without catching the attention of the malevolent being, we have decided that this would be the best course of action should you need the aid of your Persona.”
It looked exactly like the notebook that Sojiro had given him almost a year ago. As he looked closer, he could see that it indeed was the same notebook. His hands trembled as he took the book and held it against his chest.
“Of course, you would normally be unable to fuse Persona without the use of a guillotine. As such, it is fortuitous you have a completed compendium." Lavenza nodded again.
“It is as my attendant says. You will be able to summon Persona along with itemizing them. Additionally, we’ve seen fit that the funds and equipment from your previous escapades as Trickster shall carry along with you.”
“Thank you.” He took one last look around.
“It’s gonna be a while before I see you again.” He kneeled and gave Lavenza one last hug.
Igor clapped his hands. “With that said and done, I wish you luck on this grand assignment, Truest of Tricksters.”
Lavenza gave a smile. “I long for the day when we shall meet again.”
Before he could respond, a flash of blue light appeared before him, expanding until it surrounded him, the Velvet Room no longer in his sight.
….
Lavenza watched her Trickster disappear into thin air.
She had come to understand human emotions to some degree during her time as Caroline and Justine, but she could not understand what this gaping hole within her heart was supposed to signify. Was it due to her love for her Trickster? Was it because she would not see him for years to come? She didn’t quite know.
Her poor Trickster. The young boy had endured so much in such a short amount of time. When he had broken down in front of her, she had no idea what she was to do. It pained her to see him so crushed and demoralized. She had stood still for a moment before her instincts compelled her to wrap her arms around him.
She had been scared for a moment. She didn’t know whether she had stepped out of her boundaries as an attendant of the Velvet Room, but she was surprised to see that her master seemed to pay no mind. Perhaps he understood what the Trickster was feeling. But before she had any time to think, he had fallen on his knees and cried into her shoulder.
Something within her felt happy that she could feel her Trickster’s warmth beneath her arms as she did her best to comfort him. But the feeling was quickly replaced with dreadful guilt. It felt wrong of her to be so selfish, to enjoy being able to hold her Trickster. She silently chastised herself as she and her master explained to him their offer.
She had still had much to learn regarding matters of the relationship between guest and Velvet room. Perhaps she should ask her colleagues for advice before she ever saw her Trickster again.
She looked to the floor. “He deserves better than what fate has given him.”
Igor frowned. “Indeed…”
Her master motioned towards her. “Come. We must take our leave as well.”
She wished she could do more for her Trickster, but she had no idea what it was that he needed from her.
She dreaded being split into again, but it was all for her Trickster. She watched as her master snapped his fingers, the Velvet room no longer in sight.
She hoped her Trickster liked the clothes she picked out for him as well.
….
“Oi, kid?” Akira could feel something poking his shoulder.
Before he even opened his eyes, he shot his arm from his side without thinking.
“H-Holy shit, kid, calm down!”
Someone had grabbed his wrist and was pulling away from him. He looked up to find an older man in ragged clothes desperately trying to escape from Akira’s grasp on his collar.
“Oh!” He said as he loosened his grip. The old man sighed and cleaned his shoulders with his hands. “I’m sorry, I don’t know what came over me...”
“Haha! You’re one crazy little shit!” The old man scratched the back of his head.
“Only tryin’ to wake you up. Saw you slumped over like that ‘nd thought you’d died or sum.”
“Yeah.” Akira looked around from his seat on the ground as bright neon lights from all across the streets made themselves known to him. The concrete wall he sat against poked at his spine. He stood up and bowed to the old man.
“Don’t know what a kid like you is doin’ in Shinjuku, but I ain’t gon ask ‘bout it.” The older man turned around before Akira could observe any of his facial features.
“Careful you don’t get caught or sum. Might get eaten up by the wolves downtown or sum.”
“Wolves?” Before he could ask the man anything else, he had already walked off into the crowd of people in front of him.
“Wait, Shinjuku?!” He took another look around.
Several familiar establishments came into view, all plastered with several coatings of neon letters and signs. One of which was labeled “Crossroads.”
“Why did they throw me in Shinjuku of all places?”
He began walking towards the bar before almost tripping over something. He found a silver suitcase with his initials engraved onto both sides. He opened it before immediately slamming it shut.
Money. Lots of it. Most likely, the yen he had accumulated from his world from hunting shadows and working part-time. He had no idea what was the actual amount, but he had no intention of letting anyone take a peek, especially since he was standing in the middle of the infamous Shinjuku.
He picked up the briefcase and headed towards the bar. He opened the door to find a very familiar lady cleaning the dishes behind the counter.
He was surprised to see that the place was nearly identical to what he remembered from his world. Although he shouldn’t have been, this world was supposed to be a near-exact replica of his own.
He had never known Lala particularly well, but she had always been kind to him when he had worked for her a couple of times.
He froze. What would he say? He had just walked in here without any idea as to why he was here. This was his first time interacting with someone he knew from his world. Should he say hi? What would his excuse be for coming here?
She turned towards him as the door behind him closed, and a ringing sound made its way to his ears.
“Welcome, welcome!-” She stopped cleaning the glass she had in her hands.
“How old are ya, boy?”
“Uh, sixteen?”
“Don’t lie, kid. You don’t look a day over fourteen. You should learn ta lie a bit better, hun. Now get out before any of my regulars come in.”
He needed an excuse. Something. Anything. How was it possible that he was so tense over such a simple interaction? He could feel anxiety peeking its head through his hands which were trembling.
He slid his hands into his pockets. “I’m sorry, I just needed to use the bathroom for a moment.” Thank god he finally said something. Although his hands didn’t stop trembling, his mind felt somewhat at ease.
He watched as Lala looked at the door behind him for a moment before turning her head back to him. “Make it quick.”
“Thank you.” He hurried over towards the door she was pointing at and found himself inside a cramped little room that just so happened to contain a sink, a mirror, and a toilet. All features of what would be considered a functioning bathroom, but the room was so small he questioned whether he could still call it that.
“What the…” His face looked younger? His hair was a little shorter, and he was several inches shorter than what he remembered.
Was this Igor’s doing? It had to be. But why? Why make him younger?
He searched for his phone and found it in his right pocket, quietly thanking Igor for his thoughtfulness. He checked for the date.
August 11th. Nearly two years before his original arrival here in Tokyo.
Why though? Why place him two years before the events that formed the phantom thieves? To prepare? Did he need two years to prepare for the phantom thieves’ conception? Maybe, but two years is a very long time. What would he do in two years?
For now, he wanted to get out of Shinjuku, and fast. He was starting to feel nauseous. Interacting with someone from his world made him extremely anxious. How was he going to help the phantom thieves win against their fate if he couldn’t even talk with Lala for a few seconds?
Although he had been staring at the mirror for at least a minute now, he had only just taken note of his attire. A dark velvet, double-breasted suit that was nearing regal. So regal that it looked extremely tacky compared to the clothes of the people just outside the bar. Then again, this was Shinjuku, and he probably didn’t look out of place at all.
In addition to his two-piece suit, he noticed several accessories scattered all over his body. An insignia engraved into his suit’s right breast, golden cufflinks on his dress shirt, a gold plated watch, and a pattern-covered pocket square.
The suit reminded him a lot of Lavenza’s attire. Her clothes were quite regal as well, now that he thought about it. Did she pick out those clothes?
“They overdid it…”
He stepped out of the bathroom and back into the bar, looking around the room to find no one else had shown up yet.
“You were in there for a long time,” Lala said, still washing the same glass cup. “I thought I was gonna have to pull you back out, kid.”
“I’m sorry, I, uh-wasn’t feeling too good.”
“Uh-huh, well, make sure you flushed the toilet. Now get out of here and be careful on your way back home, dear. It’s gettin’ late.”
He smiled. Now that he thought about it, ‘Crossroads’ must have been in business for a while, being that it was two years before the beginning of his probation. Even then, the place didn’t change at all, giving him an odd sense of comfort.
His hands were trembling again, so he slid them back into his pockets. “Thank you very much,” he said as he headed outside.
He dropped his briefcase and rummaged through his pockets again until he found the notebook Lavenza had handed him. Inside was a list of the constants Igor and Lavenza had mentioned of. As he thought upon their words, everything became more and more odd. If this was a different world altogether, why would it need to follow his own world’s events? There was no reason other than ‘fate’. But if he was able to bend and mold his future, why shouldn’t other people be able to? How much did fate play a hand in how this world would play out? Maybe there’s something more to this that he just didn’t understand.
For the time being, he probably shouldn’t be trying to understand everything. He had a job to do, he could deal with these complicated questions later.
He glanced at the list of constants, one of them catching his eyes. Most of them pertained to the other Trickster and palace rulers which he expected. But the first item on the list nearly made his heart drop.
> Death of Wakaba Isshiki and Confiscation of Research
He knew that in order for Shido to have been able to use the metaverse, Wakaba’s research on cognitive psience would have needed to be taken by him. But did Futaba really have to suffer all over again?
He remembered going through Futaba’s palace and witnessing its horrors. Poor Futaba, he didn’t want her to suffer.
But any action might cause reality to crumble, and he didn’t want that either. He had no idea what might happen if he were to try and change fate as he did with Yaldabaoth. Should he risk this entire world just to save Futaba from her suffering? He could feel the weight of the world on his shoulders as he skimmed through the constants once more.
August 21st was the day Wakaba died. He had a few days to think about what to do with her. For now, he had a list of his own to make.
The notebook in his hand felt light, even with a few hundred pages dedicated towards summoning his personas.
He flipped through the notebook and found the nearest empty page. He looked through his pockets to find a silver pen, thanking Igor once again for his thoughtfulness. He began to write a list of the things he needed to prioritize.
He needed connections. Ones that would help aid the phantom thieves along on their journey. Along with that, he needed a base of operations, which was just a fancier term for a place to live. He wrote down several other things on his list of priorities, but he wrote these two down first for a reason.
He had an idea as to how he could check these two off the to-do-list, and in order to do that…
“Iwai… Tsuda…” He knew just the right person to find.