personavelvetroomdr | [EVENT] Memory Tapes

Entry tags:

[EVENT] Memory Tapes

On the morning of November 21st, denizens in the Velvet Room will awake to a message on their phones or by their bedsides in an envelope. Perhaps even on their computer screens.

Greetings! If you've received this message, then you've been selected as a participant in a new activity to strengthen bonds within this community. In order to facilitate connections with your fellow residents, we advise you to watch this video. Watch it and return the tape to its rightful owner. If you lacked the means to watch VHS tapes before, we have provided you with the necessary equipment. Failure to do so may put your own memories at risk. Do not be selfish, lest you find yourself struggling to recall crucial moments of your life. You have no way of knowing which memories have been shared, so ask yourself if it is worth the risk to selfishly hoard another's secrets.

They will soon find a VHS tape, with a case that gives off a soft, blue glow to symbolize its importance. If they lack a TV or VCR, they will find one in their living space.

What they do is up to them, but they should heed the warning, if they value their own memories.

[For links to characters' memories, please see this post in the OOC comm. Have fun!]

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

Manifest the labyrinth.

The brief moment of satisfaction of watching Maruki freak out is abruptly cut short as the entirity of the Palace rumbles, Kou's already damaged body unable to keep him up anymore as he's once again forced to lean on his blade. As the Palace starts to change, panic sets it, and Kou tries to make a dash (more like a deranged stumble, really) towards the entrance, hoping against all hope that this was enough to force it open-

But it's no use. Kou cries out as his body gets forcibly held in place by- something, leaving him helpless as the Palace rearranges itself around him. He can barely understand what's happening around him, cursing out Maruki as his body cries out in pain, his head throbbing at the noise around him.

And then, just as abruptly, it stops with a violent BOOM, walls dropping in around him, and the force loosens, leaving Kou harshly breathing on the floor as he tries to make sense of what the hell Maruki just did. For a moment, he can barely move, muscles twitching under the already sustained damage.

Finally, he forces himself upright again, taking stock of his situation. Maruki is nowhere to be found anymore- only his deranged, taunting voice echoing across the stark white walls of the- labyrinth.

You will face your memories, your loss, and the truth—here, in the depths of my labyrinth.

"Fuck," Kou hisses, cradling his stomach and breathing heavily as he uses his greatsword to stabelize himself. He glares into the ceiling, not knowing where Maruki is, but doubtlessly watching somewhere.

"You motherfucker," he growls, "this is just so fucking typical."

He honestly doesn't give a shit how 'well-intentioned' Maruki is, or what it is he wants. This- this right here is just one more confirmation on what kind of monster the man is.

Kou grits his teeth, and reaches a shaky hand into his suit- fishing out a life stone. One of Maruki's lackeys had dropped it earlier, and it seems right now is the time to use it. He lets out a small breath of relief as the weak healing magic washes over him- not enough to truly heal him, but enough to help, at least. It's enough that he doesn't need to lean on his sword for balance, and he sheaths it on his back again, for now.

Fury and grief still tremble through his veins, his gauntlets clenching and unclenching, longing for something to dig into- but without a target, it has nowhere to go, and all Kou can do is clench his teeth.

"If you think this- whatever it is you're planning- is going to get me on your side, or get you what you want," he snarls at the walls, making sure that Maruki can feel his rage through his words, "you're even more of a blind idiot than your Persona would make you seem."

That said, he can't see any obvious way out. The walls scale into seemingly forever, there are no openings in them, and after a fruitless attack from Palnatoke that doesn't even leave a scratch, not a lot of options are left. Palnatoke's navigation can't seem to grasp anything; it's just a scrambled signal, leaving him to rely on his senses alone, and there seems to be only one path forward, for now. Despite his anger, his anxiety, the profound sense of loss that Maruki oh-so-graciously rekindled with furious intensity, there is not much Kou can do now.

"Piece of shit," he hisses, spitting out the remaining blood in his throat onto the disgustingly pristine walls, sullying them. "Maniacal, self-centered control freak. You wouldn't lose your memories if you'd just given me my tape, asshole, but I guess your so-called 'research' is more important than some lousy memories to you. Who cares when you can just brainwash your problems away, right?"

With no other choice, however, Kou starts walking deeper into the labyrinth, all his senses on high alert.

Edited 2024-12-07 14:16 (UTC)

The pristine walls of the labyrinth shimmered faintly as Kou's spit struck them, the sound sharp and wet against the silence. For a moment, it simply sat there—defiling the immaculate white—until it bubbled, warping and darkening. Black veins pulsed outward from the stain, a sickly green glow creeping through the corruption like roots searching for purchase. The walls themselves shuddered, their surfaces convulsing as if recoiling from the taint.

Then the spit hissed, vaporizing into acrid smoke. The black and green remains slithered back into the walls, leaving nothing but faint ripples in the air.

Maruki grimaced from his perch above the maze, his fingers tightening into fists at the sight. Azathoth stirred within him, the eldritch energy brimming beneath his skin, and he felt the labyrinth respond. He raised two gloved fingers, an index and a middle as a keyboard floated up and he rummages through the buttons for a moment- attempting to refresh the imagery he had seen in the tapes.

Systems optimizing: ....17% progress
ERROR! Data is too unpredictable! Reconstructing interface...

Slowly, the sterile walls shifted. Vines curled around the corners, flowers blooming across as suddenly flora overcame the overreaching walls- making it look close to a distinct harmless maze in the park.

"It seeps in," Azathoth murmured, its voice a low tremor at the edge of Maruki’s thoughts. “Their anger. YOUR failure. You let him defile your work, Doctor… look at him. He spits in your face.”

Maruki exhaled sharply, forcing himself to focus on the monitor floating before him. Static crackled across the screen, distorting Kou’s outline as he stumbled forward deeper into the maze, his form wavering like a mirage.

The labyrinth wasn’t what he wanted it to be. This space—once envisioned as a sterile and methodical treatment plan—was no longer under his control. Azathoth’s corruption threaded through it like a parasite, warping it with each beat of his frustration, his anger. He clenched his jaw, a bitter taste rising in his throat as the walls bled darker.

"Azathoth," Maruki murmurs- ensuring his voice doesn't echo across. "Recede the changes."

"Then Kou-kun will only make you see what he wants you to see. This place is built on prejudice. Mistrust. The flaws of humanity itself!"

Maruki flinched at the whisper, the veins in his arms searing painfully as black corruption pulsed outward from his wounds. Azathoth writhed through him, its energy coiling like barbed wire beneath his skin, and for a brief moment, he felt the entity's hunger.

“I’m not…” he started, his voice breaking as he shook his head while his voice once again followed through each turn- as if he were standing right before Kou or perhaps hovering right behind him. “I’m not brainwashing anyone. They asked for my help. Why would I deny-”

Maruki’s eyes flickered gold, his breath uneven as his frustration roiled alongside the entity’s influence. His fingers dug into the edge of the monitor, his nails slick with blood that dripped soundlessly into the void.

“You struck first, Corvus-san,” Maruki’s voice echoed suddenly, reverberating through the labyrinth with unnatural weight. It sounded hollow, faraway—like it wasn’t quite his own. His golden eyes glared down into the monitor, visibly bristling at the words. “You want to call me a monster? Fine- I suppose its therapeutic in a way. Sometimes I wonder why did I enroll in Shujin again but...of course that place drew me in like a moth to a flame. I couldn't-"

"..."

Edited 2024-12-12 21:29 (UTC)

Maruki closed his eyes for a moment, his pulse throbbing in his ears as the ancient god’s words slithered through his thoughts. When he opened them, he murmured, almost to himself, “...If he’d just see.”

As if responding to Maruki’s unspoken desire, the maze shuddered—and something shifted.

Down in the depths, Kou stopped, his breath ragged as the walls abruptly narrowed, pressing in closer. The bricks inlaid in moss and concrete, their unnatural seams writhing like veins beneath their surface. A path that once seemed clear twisted into confinement. There was nowhere else to go—save for a single object that manifested in front of him with an audible thrum.

A mirror.

It stood tall and unyielding in his path, its ornate silver frame weathered and cracked, as though it had been salvaged from some forgotten attic. The reflective surface rippled like liquid, unnatural and dark, though faint glimmers of Kou’s own image swam beneath its murky depths.

The walls around him groaned louder, closing further still, forcing his attention onto the mirror.

Above, Maruki’s bloodshot gaze remained fixed on the monitor, sweat trailing down his face as he watched. “It’s just a mirror,” he muttered, almost pleading with himself, as if trying to convince himself of its harmlessness. “It’s... just his reflection.”

But deep down, he knew better. This wasn’t his science. Azathoth’s corruption ran deeper than intention.

Edited 2024-12-12 21:32 (UTC)

Kou staunchly ignores Maruki's words, continuing onward, deeper into the maze. There's no arguing with this man, not when he's so adamant about casting the blame on Kou for this situation- as if that motherfucker hadn't lured him here with the puppeted corpse of his brother. Did he really expect Kou to react well to that? To sit down and let that piece of shit dig through his brain? To answer his questions with a smile on his face?

As fucking if. It's clear Maruki's decided that Kou's in the wrong for not happily accepting what he deems 'treatment'. Lost memories? Any 'memory' Maruki would have of that would be stolen in the first place, and Kou's not in any hurry to give him more ammunition than he already has. The idea alone that he has Kou's tape, that he was able to view it... it makes him want to scream.

Kou growls as the labyrinth writhes and changes around him, the sterile walls replaced with vines and branches, then mossy walls.

"If you're trying to lull me into a false sense of security," he hisses, "you're much, much too late for that."

And as if in response to his words, the walls begin to shift much more violently.

Kou's forced, herded into whatever directions the maze desires, regardless of his own attempts to break out, like he's fucking cattle. The walls ripple and writhe, as if alive, and once again, Kou has no choice but to play along to Maruki's madness.

His breath catches when he comes face to face with a mirror.

Unwilling to play along, he tries to turn back, but it's no use- the walls close in around him, forcing him closer and closer to the mirror. A tentacle pushes him away when he tries to push back, forcefully twisting him around to face the rippling surface of the mirror.

For the most part, it's dark, but here and there, he swears he sees-

"What the fuck is this," he growls lowly. "What are you trying to do, huh?"

-a hint of something. It's- it's himself-? Or is it-

Flickers of a smile, of an scchool uniform/i>, beige with a striped tie, black gloves, meticulous, impeccable, then a winter coat, a checkered scarf- a Metaverse outfit that's red and black, or is it blue and black? A black mask with red visors, a menacing smile-

Unease crops up in his throat. He masks it by looking up at the ceiling, glaring.

"Answer me!"

Edited 2024-12-13 19:39 (UTC)

I don't know, Maruki almost wants to say as he watches Kou approach the mirror- stuck between either that or having to face the wrath of a particularly impatient Azathoth who had more than just a mind of its own when fuelled by Maruki's greatest desire.

When Kou growled at him, demanded answers, Maruki let out a quiet sigh—almost resigned but not quite apologetic.

“It’s what it looks like,” he answered softly, as if that alone would suffice, though he knew it wouldn’t. His gaze, tired but deliberate, lingered on the screen as the mirror’s surface stilled. “You’re seeing a mirror, Corvus-san. That’s all it is.”

Maruki swallowed the creeping dread curling at the edges of his thoughts, forcing himself to sound clinical, detached.

“You know,” he continued, his tone shifting to something quieter, almost reflective, “mirrors are a very common manifestation in cases like this. Especially with people—young people—who find themselves weighed down by expectations. By the roles placed on them. Sometimes those roles are chosen, and sometimes… they’re thrust upon us.”

He paused for a moment, letting the words hang in the space between them. He knew that wouldn't sit well with Kou—not with the agitation clear in his voice and posture—but he pressed on gently.

“This is the regarding the title of the detective prince...isn't it? The pressures, the expectations—all of it played a significant role in shaping who you are. And from what I understand of Akechi, those same expectations seemed to follow him as well. As if his life was caught in a perpetual spotlight, scrutinized by anyone who cared to look. It doesn’t take much for an identity to fracture under that kind of weight.”

Maruki’s voice softened further, thoughtful as he considered the phantom images Kou had glimpsed. The school uniforms, the masked visors, the shifting Metaverse outfits… Kou’s ties to this other Akechi—and to Akira—ran deeper than he’d initially realized.

“The mirror doesn’t lie, Corvus. It shows you what’s already there—beneath the surface.”

And then he paused again, leaning back slightly in his chair as he glanced back at the monitor. Maruki’s gaze was calm, yet there was something piercing in the way his voice dropped just slightly lower, as if reaching for something deeper.

“What do you see when you look at yourself? I mean… truly see?”

The mirror’s surface rippled once, then stilled.

And for a split second—a heartbeat—the reflection that stared back at him was something grotesque.

A dark, eldritch silhoutte watched Kou- formless as it loomed within the glass. Green-black tendrils writhed beneath its skin like living veins, coiling and stretching from its limbs as though trying to pull it apart. It's face—its face—was obscured by shadow, its eyes glowing with the same sickly golden light that burned within Maruki’s own.

The vision twisted violently, warping further, until—

It returned back to the original image. The one that had sent Kou reeling in the first place.

Maruki looks up from his monitor and waits- letting the silence hang without even noticing that detail. "Well?"

"Manifestat- oh, fuck off," Kou snaps, fists clenching and unclenching in the absence of anything else, "don't act like you're not the one forcing this shit on me!"

He hates the way Maruki talks- that soft, clinical voice, talking down to Kou. As if he has all the answers, as if he knows what's best- like his fucking Palace isn't a whole fucking representation of why he doesn't know shit. He's delusional as always, and instead of Sumire-

-it's Kou who's his test subject this time.

Too fucking bad for him that Kou already knows what his goal is- and he's not playing along.

"Stop talking as if you know anything!" he snaps at the ceiling with a sneer. "You don't know shit about me or my brother! You won't break me like you broke Sumire! This mirror-" he spits, "-you're just manipulating what you want me to see, aren't you?!"

He says it- he believes it, but he can't help the way his stomach twists at every image, the way his hands shake-

and Maruki just keeps blabbing. It makes Kou want to tear his hair out, but just then, the mirror stills.

Something unfathomable stares back at him. Something horrible, with tentacles shifting beneath its skin, as if trying to destroy the image from the inside out. A shadowed face, but if Kou squints, he can make out an almost-smile, golden eyes staring back at him like a Shadow's, expression so familiar-

Kou feels very, very cold all of a sudden, instinctively taking a step back as bile rises in his throat at the twisted image staring back at him.

"Stop-" he says, gritting his teeth, but all that happens is his back hitting the living, writhing wall, which immediately pushes him forward again, towards the mirror. He tries to twist his head away, but it's like the mirror shifts with him, with his eyes-

The ripple is back. Flashes of himself, Goro, himself Goro himself both at once bloody wounded ripped outfit corpselike Goro GorohimselfGoroGorohimselfGoroGoro-

"Enough!" He cries out, ripping his sword from his back with a shout, and rushes towards the mirror. The bloodied image of Goro laughs back at him as he brings down his weapon with a cry, intent on ending this madness.

Edited 2024-12-14 11:03 (UTC)

“Broke Sumire?” Maruki murmured quietly, tilting his head as if considering the accusation. Even from behind the wall of glowing monitors, his calm demeanor was undeterred—though faint traces of something sharper flickered in his gaze. “I did no such thing to her.”

To Kou, that likely meant nothing. It was clear—unmistakably clear—that in Kou’s mind, Maruki had already been cast as the villain of this particular narrative. A shallow interpretation, one steeped in anger, frustration, and fear. Maruki’s lips twitched, the slightest tremor of annoyance threatening to crack his carefully maintained poise. So narrow-minded. Jumping to conclusions without stopping to truly see the bigger picture.

But something else caught his attention—something he didn’t let go unnoticed.

He let out a slow, measured breath, his voice calm but laced with a pointed firmness. “I never claimed to know everything, Corvus-san. And I certainly don’t control what the mirror shows you. Its reflection is your own—it’s your heart staring back at you, whether you’re ready to face it or not.”

It was important to see this, to document it. The maze had a way of exposing raw truths, but Maruki hadn’t anticipated… this.

Kou’s sudden, anguished shout cut through the silence like a blade.

His head whips up when he hears him cry out. "Corvus-san, are you alright?!" he asks and looks at the monitors.

His eyes darted between the screens as Kou staggered backward, the mirror rippling and distorting until—

—until the grotesque figure reappeared.

Maruki froze. The bloody silhouette twisted within the glass, its form writhing. He caught glimpses of it—Kou, Goro, Kou(?) as Goro(?)—collapsing in on itself in flashes of bloodied smiles and broken bodies. The corpse-like visage sneered back at Kou as if mocking him from within his own reflection. What did it all mean?

Maruki’s breath hitched, his hand trembling slightly as he swiped a bead of sweat from his brow. “Azathoth,” he whispered, the name like acid on his tongue. He steadied himself with a shaky exhale, though the tremor in his voice betrayed him. “Why? Why would you make him remember—”

The answer came unbidden, cold and cruel as it whispered in the back of his mind.

“Because he thinks he’s above it all when, in fact, he’s drowning in it.”

“We are not having any of that—!” Maruki’s voice rose sharply as he suddenly swiped his hand through the air.

It dissolved instantly, as though it had been nothing more than a hastily drawn illusion wiped clean by a dismissive hand. Before Kou’s sword could strike it, before his anguish could escalate further, the reflection disappeared, leaving only the hollow groans of the maze surrounding him.

Maruki leaned back into the otherwise void which cushioned him from almost everywhere. Like an actual seat- except he couldn't see it.

he tried to calm the rapid beat of his heart. His voice softened again, the professional calm returning as he addressed Kou.

“Apologies, Corvus-san. That was… a little too much, wasn’t it?”

He let the silence hang just long enough for Kou’s breathing to slow. Then, Maruki leaned forward slightly, his tone shifting to something both gentle and persistent—like a guiding hand placed just between Kou’s shoulders.

“But you’re still standing, aren’t you? That’s what matters.”

He watched the monitors closely, his gaze warm but unwavering, as if trying to encourage Kou through the labyrinth’s pressure.

“Take a moment to breathe, then press on. I promise you, the tape is at the very end and once the unpredictable elements are out of the picture- you will be at peace. I mean it.”

Edited 2024-12-14 21:59 (UTC)

The mirror doesn't so much as shatter as just... let his sword glide through. There's an impact, but no aftermath-

-and then the mirror is gone, and Maruki is once again speaking into his head from everywhere and nowhere at once. Kou's hands are still trembling around his blade as it rests against the ground, his heart beating in his throat, his breathing ragged and halting. Too many emotions flow through him at once, anger, grief, panic- it's a struggle to get himself under control.

A little much.

A little much.

That piece of-

A wild cackle escapes him without his consent at Maruki's words, but it's not amused, no. It's unhinged. Furious.

"How dare you. How fucking dare you. Be at peace? With your bullshit?! You're fucking- you're insane!" he shouts at the ceiling, leaning on his blade. "If you think I'll submit to you- think again!"

He forces himself to straighten up, not holstering his blade this time- he keeps it at the ready, Palnatoke at the front of his mind, just as furious as him.

"You think yourself such a good person, don't you, good doctor? A poor soul who just wants to take the pain of others away?" he sneers. "Your 'treatment' is a sham. Take it from someone who's very, very good at hurting people, Maruki; you're one of the most despicable human beings I've ever met. And I've met many of them."

He doesn't care what kind of intentions Maruki thinks he has; just the fact that he's forcing Kou through this is proof enough that he's not the kind man he portrays himself as. Oh, he certainly thinks he is, but thinking you're god's gift to humanity does not make it so.

He's a maniac. To put it mildly.

"I will get my tape, and I will get out of here," he snarls, stalking forward, "and either you let me and my tape go willingly, or you're going to regret trying to treat me in the first place." The grip on his blade tightens as he picks up the pace. Even if his heart still pounds in his chest, even if he feels destabilized, and there are brims of wetness in his eyes that he refuses to acknowledge. Fury over the blatant desecration of his brother's and his own memories keeps him going. "I will not fall to you, or your so-called treatment. Mark my words."

Maruki sat back deeper into the unseen void, the weight of Kou's words pressing down on him like a heavy fog. The all-seeing eyes that he couldn't even see- hovering above and beside him with pupils that dilated and pulsed as they followed each move the doctor committed. For once, he didn't respond immediately—his lips parted slightly, but the words failed to come. His gaze, still focused on the monitors, flickered with something unreadable. Frustration, perhaps, or maybe something closer to...

...Closer to regret.

He tried to speak, faltered, then let the silence stretch again.

“…Despicable,” he repeated softly, as if turning the word over in his mind. His eyes narrowed ever so slightly, but he caught himself before his expression could betray any real irritation. There was a stillness to him now, a sort of resignation that seeped into his posture. Let's say even if he didn't manifest the labyrinth- even if he simply gave the tape to Kou after being impaled by multiple arrows manifested with Almighty energy...who's to say that would have stopped Corvus to kill him anyway?

“You think I want this?” Maruki finally said, his voice low—so quiet it was almost swallowed by the groaning maze. He hesitated, fingers twitching faintly as they hovered near the controls before curling inward. “Do you think… I’m sitting here, orchestrating all of this for my own satisfaction? After months—months—of being left in the dark, not knowing what you’ve done, what you could have done…? What if what you’re doing right now—what you’ve already done—is just history repeating itself? Another cycle of destruction, another path paved with ruin, and you would never even know.”

“Tell me, Kou-san—can you tell me why I did what I did to you?” His tone hovered between challenge and plea, as if searching for something he couldn’t name. “Would you even bother to give me an answer?”

Another pause. This time, the faintest chuckle escaped him—not sharp or mocking, but brittle and worn, like a fraying thread.

“…You will make me regret it either way, won’t you?” he said softly, a bitter smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. His gaze—though Kou couldn’t see it directly—fell slightly, as if Maruki were speaking to himself rather than to the young man. “Even if I let you go now, even if I handed you that tape and opened every door… you’d still come back, wouldn’t you?”

The silence that followed wasn’t oppressive. It was mournful. Maruki’s fingers danced briefly on the air in front of him, like he was tracing something invisible.

A faint sigh escaped Maruki, his shoulders slumping as he finally sat up straight. His hands fell limp for a moment before curling into his lap. “There is no treatment,” he said plainly, the words carefully enunciated yet hollow in tone, as if he were admitting something dreadful. “Nothing is going to happen to you.”

Unless you force my hand.

It lingered there, a statement stripped bare of pretense.

The monitors reflected Kou’s relentless march forward, blade still ready, fury still unquenched. Maruki watched him quietly, perhaps waiting for some crack to appear—some flicker of hesitation in Kou’s eyes. But none came.

“Proceed,” Maruki murmured finally, resigned, as though he were surrendering to the inevitability of it all. He adjusted his glasses with a single deliberate motion, then gestured faintly at the screen. “The maze has manifested something for you. Just ahead.”

On the floor, illuminated by the faint, sickly light of the labyrinth, sat a pack of cigarettes.

Maruki’s expression remained neutral, but there was an unmistakable weight to his next words.

“Perhaps we’ll find your answers there.”

"Oh, spare me the self-pity." Kou growls at Maruki's little speech. Boo-hoo, the mad doctor isn't getting the answers or results he wants. Truly, the epitome of a pitiable wretch who has never ever had anything good happen in his life. It makes Kou want to puke. "You do the shit you do because you just can't leave well enough alone- because you think yourself a god. The only one capable- no, the only one allowed to dictate what others feel." He narrows his eyes. "But you're no god of mine. And I told you, keep my name out of your damn mouth!"

He really hates Maruki's little woe-is-me act. As if Kou can't see right through it. This is a man hellbent on taking over the world- it's just that he tells himself he's doing it to 'take away pain'. Right- brainwashing everyone to forget that things are bad isn't dystopian at all. Fulfilling wishes? Bullshit. This guy never bothered looking further into why people are the way they are, or what they actually want. Only what he thinks is best for them, their actual wishes be damned.

So, hell yes is he going to make him regret it either way. After everything Kou's been through today, he's going to make this bastard pay. All he had to do is give Kou the tape when he entered the Palace- or hell, just asked someone to give it to him. Maybe, just maybe Kou wouldn't have been so fucking hostile if Maruki hadn't used his dead brother to lure him before trapping him in his Palace.

"Nothing is going to happen to me," he laughs, somewhat manic, "unless I don't play along- isn't that right?" He hasn't forgotten the way Maruki forced Sumire and her Persona to go berserk, back in his own world, just because he, Goro, and Amamiya wouldn't accept his world. Perhaps this one hasn't done that yet, but this maze is proof enough that he's not above such things.

And by god, he's going to tear this place to the ground. Whatever the next thing the maze has manifested for him- per Maruki's words- he doesn't care. He's not playing along. He's getting his tape back, and he's going to-

-is that a fucking pack of cigarettes?

If Kou weren't so wound up, he might've paused. He might've rolled his eyes, even, har dee har, showing the smoker a pack of cigarettes- or is it a metaphor for how he's slowly killing himself with his grief? How he's substituting Maruki's 'treatment' for something else that's 'worse' than his brainwashing, than his blatant disrespect for the dead?

As it stands, though, Kou only glares at the cigarettes, approaching it warily with his sword drawn, ready to defend himself. He doesn't trust this for shit- does Maruki think him stupid enough to fall for his traps?

"Any answers you're hoping to find," he sneers, "are not going to come from me."

(God, he craves a cigarette.)

His legs are trembling in a way he refuses to acknowledge as he slowly walks by, eyes not leaving the pack for even a moment. It's just an ordinary pack of cigarettes- his favorite brand, even, but with the way Maruki said that, there's clearly something else going on.

And he doesn't have to wait long for the other shoe to drop- as soon as he crosses an invisible boundary, the cigarettes ripple, the form changing-

Kou freezes, ever so briefly.

A gun sits in their place. But not just any gun.

That's the gun Goro and his cognitive versions were holding.

The gun that- that-

Kou twists his head away, letting out a low, angry (or is it despairing?) noise. His chest aches, remembering the faded scar Goro showed him, one that had healed for too quickly to be natured, one that should have killed, but Goro was alive- alive- except he wasn't, it was just his corpse, brought back by Maruki, remolded and reworked, ready to be used against-

"You've got some nerve." Kou grits his teeth. "Asking me for answers when you keep doing shit like this."

He forces himself to keep walking.

Maruki’s fingers stilled, hovering just above the unseen controls before curling into a fist. His brow furrowed, subtle irritation breaking through his carefully maintained composure. He stared hard at the monitors now, the reflection of Kou’s movements flickering across his glasses.

“God?” Maruki muttered to himself, a faint edge to his voice. “You think I see myself as a god?”

He let out a short, humorless laugh—thin and brittle, lacking warmth. “Do you even know what you’re saying?” Maruki shook his head, pinching the bridge of his nose as though trying to stave off a headache. “I rejected that, Corvus-san. The throne. The power offered to me. The chance to shape the world however I wanted. You think I would have put you here if I had that absolute control you speak of? What is it you are so scared of? Living a normal life with the people you love and cherish?"

"And as per mythology, no god ever gives the people what they want. Do you think they would have been gods in the first place?”

~~"My reality can be just the way you like. Let me guide you."~~

He stops, eyes shut close as he curls in on himself- eyes widening as flashes appear. Yet again. Memories flood in and he's grown almost quiet- trying to contain his own frustration, helplessness and the power trip that had nearly blurred out his vision. Azathoth pulsed within his veins as black lines outstretched on the skin under the white visage- an ugly green running its branches on pale skin.
He remembers Ren rendering his arm broken- riddling it with bullets.
He remembers the hate spiralling on the boards.
He remembers Kou's words.

"Yes. You finally understand."

But then he remembers Azathoth and how he had guided him to the bottom of mementos. How it was coercing the doctor from the start to use the maze on Kou and now he was doing just that. Kou was in the very walls of Azathoth- exactly as the persona planned.

"..."

Maruki is yet to even leave his lab at this point- stuck thinking about the what ifs of what would have happened if he stepped further and took the metaphorical map that resided in his hand.

He could have even changed this hate spiralling around him.

His voice sharpened slightly, the calm veneer cracking. “And yet, here you are, throwing the same accusation at me as though it’s so simple. As though this—all of this—is about some petty desire for control. You don’t understand a thing.”

Maruki exhaled deeply, his tone softening, though the edge of his irritation remained. “I tried to help you. I tried to speak to you like a reasonable person. But clearly, that isn’t going to work. So let’s drop the pretense, shall we?” He leaned back, his posture loosening, a familiar, practiced look settling on his face—one Kou might recognize from therapists he’s encountered before. Calm. Patient. Infuriating. What? He knows very well how therapists actually act. Hell when Shibusawa suggested an online one all Maruki thought about was just how cold they always were. Pretending like it was so easy to-

Edited 2024-12-15 21:18 (UTC)

Maruki’s voice took on a clinical, almost detached quality, as though he were guiding a session. “You say I’m doing ‘shit like this,’ but I think it’s time we clarify a few things, Corvus-san. Let’s be honest about what we’re seeing here.”

He gestured vaguely at the monitors, his gaze sharpening as he continued. “You’re seeing what you bring into this maze. You perceive what your own mind manifests- that's the whole principle of cognition. Its not something which is forced but something which manifests from your own perception. it is truly a shame that you don't wish to face it but we can work on that together. Or not.”

“Asking me for answers when you keep doing shit like this.”

...

Breathe. Take a deep breath. Get a smoke. Anything.

Maruki’s irritation boiled over, and for the first time, his voice raised—not quite shouting, but sharper than before. “I didn’t even know Goro Akechi had a twin in your world!” He practically hissed the words, his frustration clear. “In fact, I’m certain he didn’t exist in MY world. So tell me—how the hell would I know that you’re a smoker? How would I know that?!”

His hand lashed out, gesturing to the rippling maze as though it betrayed him. “Do you think I’m sitting here micromanaging every little thing that appears in this place? A pack of cigarettes? A gun? That’s your mind, Kou-san. Yours. Every little strange horrific thing sitting in your heart has nothing to do with me. Don’t pin that on me.”

Maruki sat back again, adjusting his glasses with a slightly shaky hand. He took a slow breath, his voice evening out once more—but the faint, bitter edge remained. “You’re angry. I understand that. But maybe—just maybe—you should stop to consider what this maze is really showing you. What it’s dredging up from you.”

As Kou would walk further ahead, an object would start floating above in the air- hovering in a sickly pale light as it revealed itself to be the outlines of a dark mask.

A mask waiting to be held.

He gestured faintly at the monitors. “Because whether you like it or not, Corvus-san, this isn’t about me. Sorry to disappoint you in those regards.”

All he can really see is just how ready he is to throw him out of here once he knows just why did his tape incite so much of his own memory. He's certain there was never a twin in the first place. He could bet his life on it actually but the death of Goro Akechi was integral. It was someone's wish and while he could guess who the candidate could have been- family was first.

Kou was Goro's family.

He would have the answer.

All Maruki's words manage to do is infuriate Kou more.

"You are SO full of CRAP!" he shouts, voice trembling with fury, "you think you can just lie to my face and that I'll believe you? Motherfucker, I watched you show Sumire the exact way and moment her sister died, when there should be no conceivable way for you to have that knowledge- let alone have a recording of it! You could have done anything- anything other than show her that! You want me to believe you're not cruel enough to force me to- to fucking relive the memories of my brother's death? To show me imagery and objects and horrorshows until I submit and beg for you to brainwash me?! I hate to tell you, doctor, but I've changed your grossly distorted heart before- and I know exactly what kind of man you are!"

He smashes his sword into a wall when it twists, and tries to herd him. It's fruitless, of course, but he doesn't care- he hopes to god that it hurts Maruki. He hopes that he can feel every single morsel of his rage.

"It's always about you!" he snarls, "everything is always about your need to further your research, your need to pry into people's lives for answers, your need to put the blame of your own fucking mistakes on other people! I didn't ask for you to lure me into your Palace with a cognition of my brother! I didn't ask for you to force me into your maze of horrors! I didn't ask you for shit! You decided that all on your own, and now you're mad at me for calling you out on your bullshit?! This is exactly why you have a Palace in the first place!"

And, as if to taunt him ever further, a very particular Metaverse mask shows up. Black, beak-like, a crack running down the side.

Kou feels the tears prick in his eyes, but he swallows them down, unwilling to let Maruki see his weakness. He doesn't pick the mask up- just ignores it, rushes by it as if it's going to burn him- only for, around the next corner, something else to show up. And the next, and the next, and the next.

A bracelet Ren gave Goro. Sunglasses Kou got as a gift. An engraved fountain pen.

A single black glove.

Kou swears he can hear Goro's voice murmuring in his ears, but he's obviously nowhere to be seen. The walls pulsate and squirm, changing from pristine to mazelike to elegant to brick back to pristine-

He rounds the corner.

Wakaba's mangled, dead body stares back at him. She reaches out to him, her fishlike eyes staring through him.

"Which one?" she rasps, gurgles, "which one of you was it?" She takes a step forward, stumbling on her broken legs. "Youuuu..." Her head tilts in an extremely unnatural way. "Youuuuu...!"

Kou gags, but forces himself to run forward, sword held in front of him-

"Shut up!" he shouts, and thrust his sword forward, straight through the corpse's body-

-it's his brother staring back at him. Just as bloodied, just as injured, blood seeping from his chest, from his head, gaping bullets wounds.

"Kou-nii-" the- cognition groans, "Kou-nii-"

Kou stumbles back with a gasp, dragging his sword with him. The cognition keeps staring at him, reaching out-

-he's in their old apartment, their bedroom, Goro's body is healed. He's trembling, eyes wet with unshed tears, and he's looking at Kou, still reaching out to him.

"I don't want to die" he says, voice trembling, "Kou-nii, I'm scared-"

Kou's frozen on the spot, unable to move, to speak. It's like a warped version of the actual evening that Goro told him he suspected he was already dead. It's the same, but it's all wrong- and he- he-

"Stop this!" he cries out, trembling hands tightening around his sword- grief drowns out rage, his stomach twisting inside him with anguish. He's breathing too quickly, and his heart feels lodged in his throat, "Stop! Stop! How could you!" He heaves his breaths, trying to calm down, but Goro's crying in front of him, begging for help, and he can't- he can't-

"Isn't it enough that he's dead?! That he's no longer with me?!" he yells, without thinking, mind working too fast and too slow at the same time. "I hate you! I hate you! I'll kill- you piece of shit!"

Edited 2024-12-16 12:05 (UTC)

Maruki observes Kou’s outburst with a strained calm, though his furrowed brow betrays the turmoil bubbling beneath the surface. At first, he tries to process Kou’s accusations, his mind turning over each word with clinical precision, searching for logic amidst the whirling storm that Kou subjected him into.

“I… I don’t recall showing her that accident,” he says, his voice faltering as if a part of him wouldn't have been surprised if he did.“She described it to me—every detail—and I helped her process it. That wasn’t something I…” He trails off, unsettled by the sharp edge of Kou’s rage. If Kou's Maruki did that- he must have his reasons. Perhaps he was justifying Sumire's choices to everyone else.

It's always about you.

Maruki’s expression hardens. For the first time, his voice sharpens, though it remains unnervingly measured, a blade cloaked in velvet. “Always about me? Feels like it truly is difficult for you to grasp the concept of different universes, Corvus-san.”

He exhales, his gloved hands flexing against the unseen surface before him as he regains his composure. “My research—my actions—have never been about me. Everything I’ve done has been for the sake of others. To give people peace, to free them from the burdens that shackle them. You can hate me for that if you want to. But don’t twist my intentions into something so… self-serving.”

There’s an edge to his tone now—subtle, but undeniable. Maruki is no stranger to anger, but this? This pricked away at something he had hidden deep within. Kou’s words have struck at something deeper: the suggestion that his goals, his life’s work, are nothing but his own vanity when all he remembers are hopeless nights waiting at the hospital or living with the grief of never having his research validated. When it could have truly changed the world for the better- for Rumi, even if she forgot about him. Even if he had to let her go for her own sake. ~~Not because he wasn't capable.~~

~~Did he truly believe himself to be in the right?~~

No god would grant humanity's wishes. Once casted away from Eden itself, was it so terrible that Maruki wanted to bring paradise to Earth? Did they not deserve this?

~~He couldn't help her.~~

The implication burns at him far more than he lets on.

But before he can dwell on it further, the labyrinth shifts again.

The sight of Wakaba Isshiki’s mangled form unsettles him further. Maruki shifts on his feet- his white coat shifting in the otherwise dark abyss. He whispers under his breath, “What is this…? Akechi was responsible for Wakaba Isshiki’s death—but why… why is this happening like this?” If it were regarding the existence of the twins- that would open even further questions. He already knew the Goro Akechi of his own universe had far greater intentions than being a meagre detective prince so-

The monitors flicker—first with the distorted form of Wakaba Isshiki, then the shifting, agonizing image of Goro’s broken body, morphing into something even crueler: a memory twisted into nightmare.

"Don't tell me you think dangling my life before us is going to have any impact on our decision."

The voice echoes across the maze.

His voice carries out into the maze, soft at first, as though he’s hesitant to interrupt. It echoes unnaturally across the labyrinth walls, bouncing back on itself like a distant, spectral whisper. “Corvus-san… please, listen to me.”

The sharp, chaotic crack of Kou’s sword against the wall echoes back to him, reverberating through the maze, but Maruki doesn’t look away. His brows draw together, and his voice sharpens—not with anger, but urgency—as the manifestations escalate.

“I don’t understand what’s happening. This… this isn’t something I created—at least, not intentionally.” He adjusts his glasses with a subtle, almost nervous motion, his hands trembling slightly before settling back down. “Wakaba Isshiki… Akechi… These are pieces of something much larger—far more chaotic than me. I swear to you, I didn’t put these here.”

He rubs his temple in frustration, whispering to himself. “These memories… Wakaba Isshiki. Akechi… why are they twisting like this? Azathoth… is this you?”

And then Azathoth stirs—dark, sly, and ever-present. Its voice slithers through Maruki’s mind like smoke, both indulgent and firm.

“Don’t look away, Takuto. This is what happens when you leave people to their grief. This… this chaos is what they create for themselves.”

Maruki stiffens, staring into the flickering maze. “…It’s because he’s resisting me, isn’t it?”

Azathoth’s voice hums with cold amusement. “Exactly. He fights you like they all did. Kou clings to his pain because he believes it makes him whole, when in truth, it’s ripping him apart. He doesn’t see the gift you’re offering him, does he?”

If I have done this beforehand then...is it all still there? Hidden deep in my memory? Why did I forget it? He rubbed his forehead in frustration. Goro Akechi's death- his affliation to Akira Kurusu for his own world: if he had the power to bend reality he would have done everything in his power to show him his gratitude.

Is...keeping Kou here the wrong choice?

But Kou doesn’t hear him. Or if he does, it doesn’t matter. Maruki watches as Kou’s grief unravels into something primal—despair, guilt, rage. The image on the monitor shifts as Kou stumbles, dragging his sword, his cries tearing through the hollow walls of the maze.

Maruki's finger hovers a bright red button that manifested out of seemingly nowhere- reading the words "STOP PROCESS". -But then what if the Akira of his world was attached to Akechi as Kou is right now."Kou is an independent variable,” he murmurs. “If I need an answer, I need to eliminate possibilities…”

Azathoth purrs, feeding his thoughts with quiet confidence. “Don’t falter now. You’re the only one who can fix him—fix all of them. Kou doesn’t understand the beauty of what you’re trying to do. If you stop here, if you let his screams cloud your resolve, you’ll be abandoning him… just like everyone else did.”

The words sink deep, dredging up the specter of Maruki’s own past failures—of her.

"Ugh," he hunches forward- fingers burying into his hair as he desperately tries to look through the patterns. The pheasants- the doves- everyone so far-

"I hate you! I hate you! I’ll kill— you piece of shit!”

The words hit like a sledgehammer. Maruki’s shoulders slump slightly, his lips parting as if he might speak, but he hesitates. The echoes of Kou’s anguish vibrate through the maze like ripples on water, and for a moment, Maruki can’t help but stare. It’s familiar. That raw, unfiltered grief—it’s a scream he’s heard before.

The faint hum of the monitors fills the void around him. Maruki exhales slowly as he sits up, leaning forward toward the screen as his voice rises again, more focused now, though still unnervingly calm as it drifts through the space.

“Corvus-san...” The words hang in the air, heavy yet gentle, spoken not as an accusation but as a quiet realization. He pushes his glasses up the bridge of his nose, his tone even as it echoes unnaturally through the maze. "You miss your brother immensely, don't you?”

His wish--

Maruki pauses, his gaze steady as he studies Kou’s trembling form on the monitor. “It doesn’t have to be this way,” he says, voice weaving through the labyrinth like a quiet current. “I know you’re hurting. I know you’re angry at me—at everything. But this isn’t the answer.”

Azathoth whispers softly into Maruki’s thoughts, feeding the fire of his resolve. “Don’t let his rejection stop you. He’s too deep in his grief to see the truth. That’s why you’re here. That’s why you must save him, even when he fights you.”

The maze warps on the screen, as though reacting to the weight of Kou’s anguish. Maruki narrows his eyes behind his glasses, murmuring under his breath where no one can hear him, “…Azathoth. The chaos. It’s drowning him.”

But aloud, his voice fills the labyrinth again, carrying that same patient, therapist’s calm, despite the unsettling way it reverberates. “You’re not alone in this, Kou-san. You don’t have to carry this pain all by yourself forever. No one deserves to lose a piece of themselves they have always held dear.”

His voice softens further, though he doubts Kou is in any state to hear it. “You hate me. I understand that. Maybe I even deserve it. But you’re not wrong to wish for something else.” He exhales sharply, sitting back in his chair with a grim expression as the echoes of Kou’s voice ricochet across the maze.

To himself, he murmurs softly, as though admitting something dreadful, “…That’s what you wish for most, isn’t it? For him to still be here.”

Maruki rests his chin on steepled fingers, watching Kou closely, the guilt sinking deeper in his chest. He doesn’t know how to reach him—not when the chaos itself seems to latch onto Kou’s anguish, feeding it, amplifying it into something monstrous.

“I’m sorry,” Maruki says again, the words resonating through the maze, though they sound like a whisper. “I truly am.”

Azathoth hums in agreement, almost encouraging. “He thinks he’s strong for resisting you. But what does his strength gain him? Nothing. Emptiness. Loneliness. Is that what he wants? Or is he just afraid to admit he needs you?”

Maruki leans back, steepling his fingers beneath his chin, watching Kou’s broken form stumble deeper into the maze. His voice softens into something almost pleading, though it’s laced with grim determination.

Break him.

And when he does, you'll be there to pick up the pieces.

Isn't that what it truly means to help someone?

Edited 2024-12-16 20:12 (UTC)

No...

No that doesn't-

That isn't how you help someone-!

The thought echoed sharply in his mind like a scream of defiance. His eyes stayed locked on Kou, who moved through the room like a man teetering on the edge of a precipice. Maruki’s breaths were shallow, desperate to find some other solution—any solution—through the unfolding chaos.
The doctor's brown eyes dart across screens- watching the different developments manifest ahead of the maze.

The labyrinth twists and warps violently under Kou’s relentless pace, his movements a blur of desperation and anger. Maruki watches through the monitors, his brow furrowing deeply as Kou carves through the maze without pause. Each wall Kou smashes through seems to writhe and shift, almost panicking in response to his ferocity. The once-endless hallways spiral into disarray, as if the maze itself fears being unraveled.

Maruki mutters softly under his breath, “…He’s forcing his way through. The manifestations can’t keep up.”

Suddenly, the walls settle and reconstruct themselves. The space around Kou shifts again—abruptly, almost unnaturally clean—as the floor beneath his feet solidifies into polished wood. The walls snap into place, paneling themselves with intricate, traditional designs.

It’s a high-end sushi restaurant.

A long conveyor belt winds endlessly across the space, carrying pristine dishes of expensive sushi—each plate glinting like porcelain under golden lights. The maze’s silence is broken by the faint sound of two children giggling.

The laughter filters in softly at first, like a memory seeping into the air. Then, it grows louder—high, carefree, and unmistakably familiar.

The sound comes from everywhere, yet nowhere. The room feels smaller now, suffocating in its opulence.

On the conveyor belt, Kou might notice two empty plates. The remnants of stolen sushi—just the faintest traces of rice and fish—sit abandoned, their presence jarring in the otherwise pristine display.

“You remember this, don’t you?” Maruki’s voice drifts softly into the maze, distorted by its unnatural echoes.

The laughter fades, replaced by the sharp creak of splintering wood. Before Kou can react, the room twists again.

The restaurant folds in on itself, like paper crumpling beneath an unseen hand. The elegant flooring peels away, giving way to stained carpets and peeling wallpaper. The walls morph into rotting wood, and a cold draft cuts through the air as dim light flickers through broken windows.

It’s a foster home.

The soft murmur of arguing adults seeps through the walls—voices Kou knows all too well. Shadows of people he once lived with pass by doorways like ghosts, oblivious to his presence. In the corner of the room, an old box sits half-open. It’s filled with a mixture of stolen trinkets and clothes, its disarray too familiar to ignore.

The room snaps back together into something new—something colder.

The air thickens. It smells of damp soil and rain. The sky above is gray and endless, pressing down on the scene like a weight. Kou may stumble to a stop in a desolate graveyard. Rows upon rows of headstones stretch out before him, each one eerily pristine despite the decay that surrounds them.

Maruki watches with an unsettled expression as figures begin to form from the mist. A crowd gathers—dozens of them—faces pale and hollow, their features flickering in and out like distorted images.

They’re people Kou and Goro have hurt.

Some are indistinct, blurring together like hazy memories, while others stand painfully clear. A businessman clutches at his chest; a thug slumps to the ground, his expression frozen in surprise. A woman reaches forward, mouth open as if to speak—but no sound comes out.

A single headstone rises from the ground, separate from the others.

“Akechi.”

The name is etched cleanly into the marble, its presence stark and undeniable.

------

"...That's not how you help someone, Takuto?"

He didn’t see it. He didn't even try to hear Azathoth.

Behind him, the air warped subtly, darkening as if a shadow had settled into the very fabric of the room. A deep, unnatural chill bled into the space, its presence crawling across the floor like an invisible tide.

And then it moved.

From the dark corners of nowhere, a massive tentacle unfurled, smooth and sickly in texture, its surface rippling with malevolent intent. Its edges glistened under the faint glow of the monitors, razor-sharp claws like hooked blades protruding from its grotesque form. It crept forward—silent, deliberate—through the air, as though savoring the moment.

Maruki remained oblivious, consumed by the screens before him, his back slouched and posture unguarded.

The tentacle lingered above him, looming like a predator watching its prey. The sharp tips curled inward, flexing, the motion almost contemplative—as if Azathoth itself were deciding just how much to chastise him. The claws twitched in what could only be described as fury, their jagged edges glinting menacingly.

It was angry.

He defies you, Takuto and you still-!

The words whispered through Maruki’s mind like an accusation, crawling over his thoughts. A faint sheen of sweat appeared at his temple as he gripped the edge of the console tighter, unaware of the presence that loomed just a hair’s breadth behind him.

Then, it struck—slowly, deliberately.

The tentacle slithered toward Maruki’s arm, the grotesque surface cold as it gently coiled around his wrist, the motion disturbingly gentle at first. Maruki flinched at the sensation, his eyes snapping wide as his focus broke. He looked down, but not before the pressure on his arm began to build, firm yet unrelenting—forcing his hand away from the switch.

“No—!” His voice cracked, but he didn’t finish.

The monitor screens flickered briefly with static as the tentacle tightened ever so slightly, like a parent chastising a stubborn child. Maruki’s breath hitched, his entire body rigid as the cold pressure crawled across his forearm. The razor-like edges of the appendage brushed against his sleeve, a silent warning.

The message was clear.

His brown eyes darted nervously back to the screens, as though clinging to them for clarity, for some sort of root to reality itself. Kou was still there, still fighting, still refusing to break—but the sight only deepened the unease in Maruki’s chest.

The tentacle didn’t leave. It hovered just behind him now, its presence suffocating, its form an ever-present threat lingering at the edge of his vision. Another segment curled around to his side, low to the ground, like a serpent preparing to strike should he resist further.

Forcing his focus back onto the monitors, Maruki swallowed hard, his throat dry.

His eyes scanned the fractured maze and the sterile room that now contained Kou, desperately searching for something he could hold onto—something to prove he could fix this without breaking the very people he swore to save.

“Please…” he murmured under his breath, though it wasn’t clear if the words were meant for Azathoth, Kou, or himself.

The tentacle twitched again, flexing its claws ominously. But this time, it didn’t tighten. It simply waited, as though it knew Maruki would come around.

As though it knew his resolve would waver.

And Maruki—his arm still pinned, his body stiff with tension—didn’t even dare to look behind him.

Edited 2024-12-16 20:41 (UTC)

"Shut up! Shut up!"

Fueled by rage and grief and desperation, he forces his way through the walls of the maze, uncaring about the tentacles trying to cling to him, to drag him back on track. He doesn't care what Maruki's saying, how he's trying to excuse himself, what he's trying to offer. Kou doesn't want it. He never asked for it.

Of course he misses Goro more than he ever imagined he ever could. Of course he wants him back- but he's done this song and dance before. He knows what it would cost- and that cost isn't worth it. Of course he was happy to have Goro back, back then- but Goro didn't want it, and Kou also couldn't stand the thought of himself and Goro once again losing what little agency they had.

Goro's dead, and that's the reality of it all. No fake reality is worth his- either of their independence. Goro was fucking scared to die again, but at least dying was a choice he made for himself.

The maze tries to catch up to him, changing and whirling- places from his childhood, from his memories, echoes of him and Goro together. it only makes everything worse, and his breath heaves as he runs and runs, his lungs burning- he doesn't know how much longer he can keep this up but he has to, he won't-

A droplet of wetness hits him.

Multiple, actually.

A light rain makes him look up, trying to calm his breathing. Did he make it...? Is he out...?

But that's clearly wishful thinking, as the faces of people- dead people stare back at him, tombstones surrounding him. Some clear, others hazy, murky, forgotten, but the ones he recognizes-

These are his and Goro's victims.

Kou's breaths start speeding up again, eyes wild behind his mask, but he forces himself into a battle-ready stance regardless as the dead start approaching him. Some try to speak, others just gaze emptily, and dread runs up Kou's spine as they close in on him. How much of Palnatoke's power does he have left in him? How many peopel are there?

Palnatoke's own fury meets his own- but it's mixed with regret. A whisper of guilt. I only have one Megidolaon left in me.

That's not gonna do, and Kou grits his teeth as he backs up, holding his sword in front of him defensively-

He stumbles over a grave he didn't see before. He curses, and scrambles upright, ready to defend himself, but then he realizes- they are no longer approaching him. They are merely pointing at him- no, at something next to him- the gravestone he stumbled over.

He shouldn't. He shouldn't.

He can't stop himself from looking, only to immediately regret it.

Akechi, followed by an unintelligeble mess that could be either Goro or Kou- he can't tell, the Kanji are far, far too messed up to read. A pit that wasn't there before has opened itself, an empty, open casket in the depths.

Kou tries to swallows- but he can't, he can't- his heart is beating in his throat, and he's trembling so hard it's a miracle he hasn't dropped his sword. The dead stare at him and point at the grave and Maruki's voice exhoes in his head and and-

"MEGIDOLAON!"

Palnatoke bursts to life as he tears his mask off, roaring with a rage and grief that echoes his own, heartbroken and furious and everything in between as the white-purple magic of Megidolaon tears through the graveyard. He doesn't care what he hits, he just needs this place to go, he needs it gone-

When the light clears, the dead are gone, and he's alone. The only grave left is the Akechi one, and he sinks to the ground, completely out of energy.

A hand rises from the grave, grasping Kou's arm- and he jolts violently, trying to pull away-

Once again, Goro is staring at him. His smile is plastic, but there's something incredibly off about it.

"Join me, Kou-nii," he whispers, eyes crinkling in amusement, "join me. I'm so lonely, Kou-nii. You'll join your little brother, won't you?"

"Don't-" Kou tries, but his voice cuts off, unable to speak with how rapid his breathing is- he can't- there's not enough air-

"Join me," Goro repeats, "join me, join me, join me-"

"Give in."

"NO!"

Kou's eyes snap open, and he pulls himself away from- no, that's not Goro- that's a thing, and scrambles away furiously. The claws of his gauntlets dig into the dirt as he forces himself upright to run, every muscle in his body protesting but he has to- he can't do this- he needs to get away, he needs to get out of this place-

Goro's voice echoes behind him. Join me, join me, just give in Kou-nii, won't it be so much better? We'll be happy Kou-nii, we'll be so happy-

"Lea-ve- me alone!" Kou heaves, and with all the strength he has left, throws his blade Goro's way-

-and imbeds itself into a pristine, white wall.

Once again, hallways stretch out in front of him, and Kou collapses onto his knees once more, gasping for breath between gags. He doesn't puke, but it's a close thing.

"I wish-" he snarls, when he's finally regained his breath somewhat, "that it was you Shido ordered a mental shutdown on instead of Isshiki-san."

Maruki doesn't say a thing.

For a moment he doesn't even try to breathe with the way the tentacle grasps away at his hand- the glowing talons at the ends of the tendrils merely tracing the white leather of his gloves as he feels the hair raise behind his neck. Danger.

This is dangerous.

The air shifts like the very shuffling of the cards, cascading and toppling on top of each other as Kou is forced to hover and keep up with the ever lasting change. Chip chip chip the dead flee and erase just as they did in the normal world. The blood that drenched the twins and consumnated their tragic life- bound by the chains of fate itself. In death, only they remain together in the maze as sweat traces Maruki's brow but he staunchly doesn't try to give away any emotion but flexes his fingers a little.

As the red button reading "STOP PROCESS" quickly sinks further into the console.

"Good."

The screens glitch away to reflect golden eyes, held in spirals, watching him directly as he finds his fingers shaking- held in the cold embrace of Azathoth's watchful gaze.

A mental shutdown on him.

The possibility of it- the chances of his brain being scooped away and left with an empty husk of regrets and pain...somehow that's the only other ending he could imagine for himself when he lost to hearing Rumi's occasional screams in the cold air of the hospital. The pain of it all, haunting his dreams and fuelling his day-to-day actions- everything to make their faces disappear from Rumi's pleas, to make their voices stop echoing in her head or how if anyone- if anyone should have died it should have been-

"If it was me your...happiness- your dreams would not have come true. I- I was the only one who could give that to you-"

Him. It should have been him. He was always weak and frail. Where did he go wrong?

You're right

It should have been me.

Me.

Me.

"Its thanks to Azathoth who has granted me the chance against all odds- I- I- I could have never-"

He was going to puke.

He felt his body shake, a clambering pain shaking the very root of his being as he clasped his hand to his mouth before a tentacle followed, now resting on his back- patting him gently. Tears prickled his eyes as Azathoth, the one who was healing the very wounds festering inside him as he felt like he could lurch out the very essence of Azathoth seated within him and then-
It was coiling within him. He could feel it. He could feel it lifting away the unpleasant sensation. The tightness in his chest. He gasped in horror as he felt like for the first fucking time- he wanted to feel the pain which was being slowly removed from his anatomy. "Don't..." he pleads. "Please. Let me-"

I still need you, Takuto.

That was undeniably Rumi's voice.

Fuck.

Fuck.

"Stop it."

His voice clambered and shook the very walls of the maze. "DON'T YOU DARE USE HER-"

He grows quiet when the tentacle shifts and a single sharp talon pokes right on his neck. Just a few inches within- if it shifted- it would make its burrow into his heart. He stopped. Tears gushing down his face as he doesn't even know what the hell he's doing anymore.

Why is he-

You have come too far. You granted her wish. If she knew, if she knew you let someone else suffer like this...could you imagine?

Edited 2024-12-17 15:42 (UTC)

Maruki raises his head- now looking ahead as the screens shift again to Kou held within the walls of the sterile lab. Kou's vitals are stable, that much is obvious through the screens. The brain is clearly running on overdrive- it needs rest. It needs the peace. Any second and he could collapse if the adrenaline reaches dangerous levels. He watches him past his blurry gaze, a hand attended to wiping away a tear as he finds himself releasing a shuddering breath. "You're right," he says- looking ahead. "You're right."

Azathoth's right.

The walls shift- the sterile walls darkening and shifting into brick red before bubbles start coursing its way up then solidifying into dark red metal. Tentacles lurch out, carving and curling as they solidify and manifest into cold metal that made the very ducts running around the different areas of the room. Panels manifest, shadows erupt and most of all.
The cognitions.

Kou would find himself behind the line.

Everyone's here.
The shadows. The twin's cognitive doubles- now keeping their guns aimed away at the cognitive Goro and Kou. The phantom thieves. The Ren they know.

Would Kou dare to cross the line?

"You're the one who's going to disappear-!" Goro screams through his throat as he turns his gun and-

BANG!

The cognition shifts its weight, now falling to its knees.

Crow grits his tongue before turning and aiming his gun at the switch mounted on the far well just beyond the phantom thieves' reach. Just beyond Kou's reach because despite their circumstances, despite the vision of a better tomorrow- they would never-

"Wait."

The word rang out unnaturally, dissonant and off-kilter. Goro’s voice sounded wrong—warped, like a radio signal cutting through static.

3/3

takutomaruki - 2024-12-17 16:27 (UTC) - Expand

1/2

2/2

1/2

2/2

no subject

no subject

no subject

Tw: uhh corpse?

no subject

no subject

1/2

2/2

1/2

2/2

1/2

2/2 (CW: description of corpses)

1/?

2/?

3/?

4/4

1/2

2/2

1/? Tw: vomiting sensation. suicidal thoughts.

2/?

1/2- 10 minutes earlier