April 30th, 2012, The Velvet Room, Morning.
The ethereal blue of the Velvet Room offered no comfort to Rias Gremory.
She sat stiffly on one of the plush, anachronistic chairs, her hands clenched in her lap. The ever-shifting nature of the room, with its floating doors and barred cages, only amplified her sense of dislocation and anxiety.
"Rias, are you ready?" Elizabeth asked, her voice a melodious counterpoint to the tension. The Velvet Room attendant was perched elegantly on the edge of a table, watching the devil heiress with a look of calm expectation.
"Ready?" Rias let out a shaky breath. "I am a bit nervous. What if this doesn't work out? What if we're wrong? Are we even sure Riser isn't doing this by his own accord?" The doubts tumbled out, one after another. "Could he be... working in tandem with Nyarlathotep willingly?"
"Dear Rias, you must not let fear cloud your judgment," Elizabeth chided gently. "Trust in Makoto. His instincts have never led us astray. He sees the truth of things in a way that transcends mere logic."
As if summoned by her words, the door to the Velvet Room swung open, revealing Makoto, with the rest of Rias's peerage filing in behind him. There was no greeting, no pleasantries. Makoto's focus was absolute.
"Let's revise the plan," he began immediately, taking a seat beside Elizabeth. His blue eyes, calm and resolute, scanned the faces of the group. "Our goal is simple: we need to free Riser from the Reverse Phoenix and, in doing so, discover whatever Nyarlathotep is planning." A series of grim nods answered him.
"Rias, did you inform Grayfia and Sirzechs about what we're going to do?" Makoto asked, turning his gaze to her.
She nodded, though a flicker of old resentment crossed her features. "Yes... they know." The words were heavy with the memory of her cold exchange with her brother.
"What was my role again?" Irumi piped up, her voice tinged with panic. "Miss Grayfia told me yesterday that I have to burst through the main door of the Phenex Castle! D-do I really have to do that?"
Her question caused a wave of concerned frowns to sweep across the group, all eyes turning to Makoto for confirmation.
"Yes," Makoto confirmed, his own expression suggesting he shared their unease. "I don't like it either, but I understand Sirzechs's reasoning. It would be too politically volatile, too direct a challenge, if I were the one to initiate the confrontation. But from what I understood if it is the Red Dragon Empress, a member of Rias's own peerage, challenging a Phenex on behalf of her king... the narrative changes. Or so Sirzechs believes."
'A coward's move, if you seek my opinion,' Odin's voice grumbled within the shared space of Makoto's soul.
'The Devil speaks reason,' Kohryu countered. 'It is better if the Universe remains as hidden as possible from the political machinations of the Underworld. His role is greater than that of a mere challenger.'
'Draaaig better not do anythiiing dangerous for the Magiiiician,' Fafnir screeched, his metallic voice laced with uncharacteristic concern.
"Irumi, are you sure about this?" Rias interjected, her worry for her pawn overriding the plan's logic. "It's incredibly dangerous. I don't want anything bad to happen to you. I've already caused so much trouble..."
"Shut up, President!" Irumi protested, her fists clenching at her sides. "None of this is your fault!" Her declaration was fierce, born of loyalty and a newfound courage.
"Ito is right," Kiba added, his voice firm and supportive. "We will resolve this together, as a family."
"And if things get bad, Senpai will save me. R-right?" Irumi added, her confidence wavering as she sought confirmation from Makoto, her anchor in the coming storm.
"Of course," Makoto replied, his simple, unwavering promise settling her nerves.
"I have already spoken with Serafall and Sirzechs regarding contingency measures to ensure the safety of the guests should Nyarlathotep decide to strike openly," Elizabeth informed them, seamlessly taking control of the briefing. "And should even that prove insufficient, Zekram Bael has pledged his aid."
"You spoke with him?" Makoto asked, turning his head sharply towards the Attendant.
Elizabeth offered an innocent shrug. "Blame Lucifer, not me."
'It was my initiative, Universe,' the Morning Star's voice echoed, laced with smug satisfaction. 'The Great King is a useful tool. It would be foolish not to wield him.'
Makoto sighed internally but chose not to press the matter. The alliance, however unsavory, was made.
"What about the rest of us?" Koneko asked, her large eyes taking in the strategy.
"To deceive Nyarlathotep, we must make this appear to be your own, desperate plan," Elizabeth explained. "So, the rest of you will provide a diversion, covering for the Magician by keeping the castle's guards and any intervening Phenex peerage members occupied."
"Oh, I like the sound of that," Akeno said, a dark, creepy smile gracing her lips as she imagined the chaos.
"Senpai, how exactly will you... 'exorcise' Riser?" Kiba asked, unsure of the correct term for the metaphysical procedure.
"The answer is deceptively simple," Elizabeth answered before Makoto could. "We will create the perfect conditions for a normal Persona Awakening. Namely, we will cause an emotional stress in Riser significant enough to force the Reverse Persona to manifest itself. The psychological pressure will be intolerable for the parasite."
She continued, her tone becoming lectural.
"It is not entirely incorrect to say the Reverse Phoenix itself wants to be exorcised. A Reverse Persona is fundamentally incompatible with a living being—human or devil. The connection is a source of constant agony for both host and invader. The Magician," she gestured to Irumi, "will provoke its summoning, and Makoto will deal with it. Fast and simple."
"I AM THE BAIT!?" Irumi shouted, the reality of her role finally hitting her with full force.
"Yes... which is the primary reason I dislike this plan," Makoto admitted bluntly.
"Oh, come now, it is completely safe!" Elizabeth chimed, waving a dismissive hand. "Using the Magician will undoubtedly capture Nyarlathotep's interest, and I, with Mercurius, will be ready to intervene immediately should the situation require it."
"And we have to make it believable, right?" Kiba added, understanding the need for a convincing performance.
"Indeed," Elizabeth confirmed. "Theatricality is key."
"It prospects to be a fun ceremony, after all," Akeno commented, her smile widening.
"We can take our payback from that burnt bird," Koneko stated flatly, the memory of her defeat at the Phenex's hands still a fresh, stinging humiliation.
"Riser is not the enemy," Makoto corrected firmly, standing up to emphasize his point. "Nyarlathotep is. Remember that."
'If I were you, Universe, I would be prepared to terminate him regardless,' Yoshitsune's voice was cold and pragmatic. 'As the Priestess suggested, he could be a willing accomplice. It is better to eliminate a potential threat than to mourn a preventable betrayal.'
'You are far too negative!' Cendrillon whined in protest. 'The world is not merely black and white! Riser Phenex is a victim in this as well! Can you not see the tragedy?'
'In a war against the Crawling Chaos, there are only two sides,' Apollo countered, his voice uncharacteristically grim. 'You are either with us, or you are against us. There is no middle ground.'
'Bullshit,' Makoto's thought cut through the argument, his mental voice stern and final. The personas fell silent, feeling the weight of his resolve.
After a moment of tense quiet, the Messiah spoke again.
"Let's just get this done. Quickly."
April 30th, 2012, Phenex Castle, Afternoon.
The grand dance hall was a sea of glittering jewels, polished medals, and the finest silks the Underworld could offer. The air was a complex blend of perfumes, political ambition, and feigned delight.
Sirzechs Gremory moved through the crowd with the practiced ease of a born politician, his face a mask of congenial authority.
"Lord Lucifer, what a pleasure and an honour to have you present at this ceremony," Blazalon Phenex said, gripping Sirzechs's hand in a firm, meaningful handshake.
The Marquis's eyes gleamed with triumph; having a Satan, let alone the one who bore the name of Lucifer, at his son's engagement was a crowning achievement.
"This is my sister's wedding, after all," Sirzechs replied, his smile not quite reaching his eyes. "And as Lucifer, I would be remiss not to attend such a significant event for the future of our race."
The handshake was a minor battle of wills, a silent communication of power and expectation. "As much as I would love to continue our discussion, Lord Phenex, I am sure your agenda is quite full today."
As Lord Phenex moved away to greet other dignitaries, the warm, diplomatic smile vanished from Sirzechs's lips as if it had never been there.
His sharp gaze flickered toward the main entrance, drawn by the arrival of Makoto, who stepped into the opulent hall accompanied by his sister's peerage.
"Sorry, Rias," Sirzechs murmured to himself, the words a bitter whisper. "Your brother had to rely on your friend to clean up our family's mess... how shameful I am."
He turned back to the crowd, the mask of the gracious Satan slipping back into place as he engaged in meaningless chatter with various lords and ladies.
'You look remarkably like Thanatos in that attire, Makoto,' Messiah commented, a note of dry humor in his psychic voice.
It was true. Makoto was clad in a tailored dark blue suit, its sleek, almost severe design accentuated by a single row of silver buttons running down the right side.
The black trousers were both elegant and practical, and a discreet, expertly stitched pocket on the side of the jacket lapel perfectly concealed the shape of his evoker.
His hands were sheathed in pristine white gloves that extended to cover his forearms, completing the image of a solemn, otherworldly executioner.
'I found it in the closet in the Velvet Room. I think Liz put it there for me,' Makoto informed them mentally.
'We are not here to critique the Attendant's peculiar sense of fashion,' Lucifer interjected harshly. 'Our purpose is singular.'
'Ryoji, do you sense anything?' Makoto asked, his eyes discreetly scanning the glittering crowd.
'No, not yet,' Thanatos replied, his presence a watchful shadow at the edge of Makoto's consciousness. 'He is here, though. I can feel the static in the air, the distortion he leaves in his wake.'
"We split up here," Makoto said quietly to the peerage. "When Ito makes her move... well, when she does what she has to do, you'll know it's your turn. I will be right here."
With determined nods, Rias's peerage dispersed into the throng of guests, their expressions a blend of nervousness and resolve. Makoto remained near the periphery, a silent, observant figure hoping to avoid attention.
His hopes for anonymity were swiftly dashed. "Yuki, it's been a while since we've seen each other," a calm, familiar voice said.
Sona Sitri, dressed in a formal gown that was both appropriate and strategically severe, approached him, adjusting her glasses. "How are you?" she asked, her tone a polite attempt to break the ice.
"Fine..." Makoto replied in a near-whisper, his attention still divided. "You are here too?"
"Obviously," Sona explained, her gaze also sweeping the room analytically. "Lord Phenex made certain to invite the entire aristocracy of the Underworld. The heads of the Pillar Houses and their designated successors are all in attendance."
"Heiress Sitri! It's rare to see you in the Underworld!" a booming, energetic voice cut through their conversation. A muscular young man with short, spiky black hair and intense purple eyes strode towards them, a confident grin on his face. "It's good to see a friend after so long!"
"Heir Bael, the feeling is reciprocal," Sona replied with a slight, formal nod.
"And who is this?" the young man asked, his sharp eyes locking onto Makoto with immediate interest. "I don't believe we've met. A new member of your peerage? I am the heir of the Bael House, Sairaorg Bael."
He thrust a hand forward, his grip firm and testing, a handshake designed to gauge the mettle of the recipient. It was a pressure that would have shattered the bones of a lesser devil.
'This young man has the grip of a true warrior,' Yoshitsune commented, a note of approval in his voice. 'There is no deceit in his strength, only the honest desire to test his own power against others.'
'Pfft, I don't care for brute force,' Cendrillon whined dismissively.
'My plan to remain unnoticed has already failed spectacularly,' Makoto thought with an internal sigh.
'It is difficult to remain hidden when you are... well, you, Universe,' Cendrillon retorted.
'We are like the sun, after all. We cannot help but draw attention,' Apollo confirmed with a metaphorical flourish.
"Makoto Yuki," the boy replied, returning the handshake with a steady, unyielding pressure of his own.
Sairaorg's smirk widened, a spark of excitement igniting in his eyes. "My intuition was right! You are indeed strong. You didn't even flinch," he said, his voice filled with genuine admiration.
"Lord Sairaorg, please refrain from getting too excited in such a formal context," a calm, feminine voice interjected. A blonde girl, who carried herself with the air of a seasoned advisor, placed a gentle but restraining hand on Sairaorg's shoulder.
"I know, Kuisha," Sairaorg said, his tone becoming slightly more measured, though the excitement still simmered beneath the surface. "I too can behave like a noble. I was simply taken by curiosity upon meeting someone of obvious strength."
'He reminds me of the Star,' Odin mused, referencing the fiercely independent and strength-seeking persona.
'There are undoubtedly too many people here,' Makoto thought, growing increasingly uneasy.
He took a sidelong glance around the room, his senses stretched thin, searching for any sign, any ripple of wrongness that would betray the presence of the Crawling Chaos.
'You are being paranoid, Makoto,' Messiah chastised gently.
'I am being cautious,' Makoto retorted, his vigilance unshaken.
"I must correct you, Sairaorg," Sona said. "Yuki is not my servant. He is a friend and an associate."
"Is that so?" Sairaorg's curiosity seemed to double. "Then I apologize for my assumption. But whose peerage are you part of, if not Sona's?"
His mind was already racing, constructing theories about this mysterious, powerful human.
"He is a guest of the event, young Sairaorg." Sirzechs's voice cut smoothly through the conversation as he approached, once again coming to Makoto's aid. The presence of the Satan immediately shifted the dynamic.
"Lord Lucifer! A guest, you say?" Sairaorg bowed his head respectfully. "Then I apologize again for my rudeness. But if it is possible, I would very much like to speak with you again, Makoto Yuki. I never pass up an opportunity to meet someone of strength." The offer was genuine, a warrior's straightforward request for a future challenge.
I am Thou. Thou art I. Thou hast established a new bond. Thou shalt have the Universe's blessing when choosing to create Personas of the Strength Arcana.
The bond was formed, a new thread in the growing tapestry of Makoto's connections.
Meanwhile, in one of the castle's many lavish changing rooms, a different kind of tension was brewing. Rias stood before a mirror, her reflection a vision of forced bridal beauty, and she hated it.
"This is supposed to be an engagement party," she said, her voice tight with annoyance as she scrutinized the elaborate white dress the Phenex maids had insisted she wear. The fabric was exquisite, the lacework delicate, but it felt like a shroud. "So why does this look like a wedding dress?"
"That's right." Riser's voice came from the doorway. He stood there, his hands shoved casually into his pockets, observing her.
"Lord Riser, you shouldn't be here. This room is prohibited to the groom before the ceremony," one of the maids protested, but Riser dismissed her with a lazy wave of his hand.
Rias crossed her arms over the bodice of the dress, a frown marring her features. "I am not a bride yet, Riser. Why this dress?"
"It suits you just fine," Riser said, his gaze sweeping over her, but it lacked its usual predatory, lustful quality. It was almost... perfunctory.
"Today, we are demonstrating the newly strengthened bond between Gremory and Phenex. And more importantly," he added, already turning to leave, "the dress you'll wear for the actual wedding will be far more prestigious."
Rias was left standing alone, a cold knot of confusion tightening in her stomach. 'He's being too quiet, too introverted for the Riser Phenex I know,' she thought, the observation sharp and clear amidst her anger. 'And he didn't even try to touch me... something is really, truly wrong with him.'
Back in his own chamber, Riser leaned against the closed door, his heart hammering against his ribs like a trapped bird.
"Just a few more hours," he whispered to the empty room, one hand pressed to his chest as if to physically hold himself together.
"Fuck. That thing is trying to resurface again..." He tried to control the rising tide of panic with long, deep breaths, the techniques he used to center himself before a Rating Game.
"I am an immortal Phoenix. I will not succumb to some pai—" The sentence ended in a choked gasp as a wave of intense nausea overwhelmed him.
He stumbled to a nearby washbasin, his body convulsing as he vomited, gasping for air in the aftermath. The contents were mostly bile, his body rejecting something that was not physical.
"How is this possible...?" His voice was feeble, thin, and a frightening light-headedness began to swim through his vision.
"Lord Riser, everything is ready for your entrance," a servant's voice called from the other side of the door.
"Thanks. I'm coming," Riser managed to reply, forcing his voice into a semblance of its usual confident tone.
He splashed water on his face, staring at his pale, strained reflection. The show had to go on.