A/N: Jesus the layout of this chapter really screwed up during copy-pasting. It should be fixed now.

I'd like to thank linkhyrule5 for beta-reviewing this one.

On Cori Celesti, the Gods looked up from the board, and at each other. Blind Io pointed to the messenger of the Gods, Fedecks.

"You, go check up on him."

The god in winged sandals (1) saluted and popped out of existence, leaving behind nothing but a cartoonish smoke cloud. A few seconds later, he popped back into existence.

"He's still at the cave, putting fins into a cat. Didn't look like a beetle."

"So it wasn't actually him?"

"I… well, I," the smaller god rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly "I didn't ask him, sir."

Blind Io stared at the god, impassive.

"I- huh- I sort of hid behind a rock. He scares me, sir."

Blind Io understood that. He would never admit it – the Gods were a bickering bunch, always looking for, and failing that making up, excuses to dole out punishments – and that meant admitting anything, ever, around them is a bad idea.

But Evolution scared him like no other. He could deal with other powerful Gods, Gods much more powerful than Evolution ever would be, but… well, Evolution didn't play by the Rules, plain and simple.

Of course, no God ever plays by the rules. But there are rules and there are Rules. The Rules exist for all sports. They are the ones which no one ever writes down, because no one thinks of it. 'No touching the ball with your hand' is a rule. 'No destroying reality while on the field' was a Rule.

A God's power comes from belief, that much is common knowledge, and nobody believed in Evolution since eons ago. By the Rules, he was dead.

But Evolution continued, all because there was still one huge, glaring belief: his own. Not his belief on himself, mind you, but his belief that someoneshould clean up this mess, and it might as well be him.

The Gods didn't know how to deal with that. It was like challenging a man to an eating contest, only to find out he fed on solar energy.

There was a chuckle. The Gods turned to face the masked newcomer.

One of Io's eyes floated a few centimeters in front of his mask, and frowned.

Of course, you cannot frown with a single eye. Especially if that eye doesn't have eyelids. But he managed.

"You know something. Did that monkey really… summon… a God?"

Butterfly-mask waved him away.

"Oh, no, of course not."

There was a collective sigh of relief. The gods couldn't accept the idea anyone had power over them (2).

The possibly-a-god continued;

"He just became that God for a second."

There was a second of silence.

Then every God in the room attacked him at once.

If there were any living creatures outside during this dead hour, and if these living creatures were facing the general direction of Cori Celesti, they would have seen the universe's greatest light show.

And, as it turns out, there were such creatures.

The silhouette of a robed man wearing a backpack could be seen in contrast with the lights. He was leaning against the balustrade of a pagoda-like building, smoking.

There was a small object near his feet.

"You remember the last time the gods fought like this?" he asked to apparently nobody in particular. Another voice answered, nonetheless.

"Like this how? Ga guh. Raise me up, I can't see it."

The man flickered away a cigarette butt, blew the rest of the smoke, and raised the object by his feet up to the balustrade's level.

"Petty 'igh. Do you think this has to do with all these fluctuations?"

"Not sure about 'fluctuations'. Seem to be following a pretty strict timetable, I'd even say."

"Right. And the scaaaaary creatures?"

The silhouette looked down at the ground.

"One of them is climbing the building right now."

"Oh. Could you… you know?"

"Sure."

The backpack behind the man's back began sparking, then glowed a faint red light as he jumped over the balustrade.

He blurred as he fell. Much faster than anyone at terminal velocity.

From down below the pagoda came a terrified howl, and a spray of shadowy goo flew through the air. Then a black blur with a red glow dashed all the way up the stairs, and stopped, again taking the shape of a robed man wearing a backpack.

He started rolling up another cigarette. The voice that didn't belong to him spoke again;

"What happened to your contacts? Bguuuh. They should know what is happening."

"I asked. She doesn't know, and she told me she wasn't asking Him."

"And the other one? I'd think you'd have asked him first."

The silhouette shrugged.

"He became one of them. You know how it works."

There was a second of silence as the man stroke a match and lighted the cigarette.

"I really don't, actually. Ga."

The silhouette did a dismissive gesture with its hands.

"Me either, but it must be complicated. Prob'ly involves paperwork. Metaphorically. Ah, looks like they are calming down."

The lights around Cori Celesti began fading.

"That's good. Last time they went at it so long there was that problem with the ice age."

Atop Cori Celesti, Dunmanifestin resembled a frat house after the end-of-year exams. Large chunks of the wall were burned, if not outright blown to bits, and smoke was coming out of every odd corner. Some of the curtains were on fire, and the dining table made out of unbreakable wood from the Tree of Souls was broken.

The only thing not blown to bits was the Playing Board, and that is because the gods were enraged, not suicidal. Cori Celesti wasin the board.

Amidst it all, the man in a butterfly mask stood still, arms crossed behind his back, as the gods panted and gasped for air around him.

A piece of burning cloth – burning purple, and suspiciously of the same colour as Fate's robes – landed on his shoulder. He brushed it off.

"Are you all quite done?"

A few of the gods were laying on the floor unconscious, hit by each other's divine judgement during the crossfire.

Blind Io glared at the man, pointing a shaky finger.

"G-gi-" gasp "…give…" wheeze "…up yet?"

The man cocked his head in mild curiosity.

"You all realize I'm not the one who turned him into the god, right?"

"St-" wheeze gasp cough "-op! Stop it! Stop saying that!"

Offler, the crocodile god, almost pleaded to him;

"Ya can't turn people into Gods! That's preposterous! We're special."

And truth was, they didn't know what to do if it turned out they weren't.

"…would you feel better if I told you he didn't actually turn into a God, but instead took the essence of what people think is a God, and empowered himself with it?"

The Gods who were both still awake, and with enough presence of spirit to think, instead of just wheeze uncontrollably, thought about it.

Patina, Goddess of Knowledge, attempted, unsure:

"...you mean he, like, instead of the actual god, he took like, everything people believe about, you know, that god, and then, what came out looked like, like, that, because people are like, dumb and don't know us real well? So they like, get it all wrong, and like, so did he?"

"It's more complicated than that, but you can think about it that way if it makes you feel better."

"Oh, but like, how is that, well, different from us. Like, does this look like an owl to you?"

She pointed at her own head, atop which there was a penguin perched. It went "quack" and shook its head, proving her point (3).

"As I said, it is more complicated." The man lied.

That seemed to satisfy the gods. (4)

"So now tha- eugh."

Minato vomited some blood, then resumed talking in his monotone voice., "

"So now that you have a Persona, does the word 'Diarahan' mean anything to you?"

The ape looked worried at the blood, then at Minato. The boy had one streak of blood constantly dribbling out the corner of his mouth, but didn't seem to notice it. The Librarian shook his head.

"…Diarama? …Dia?"

Figures.

He stared at the tunnels.

Dark Hour would be ending soon, too. As much as he hated it, searching for Carrot would have to wait.

"This place should return to normal soon, but you do not want to be inside it when it happens."

"Ook?"

The smell of sweat and armor polish and the colour of autumn leaves. Worrying.

Minato stared at him.

"Repeat that."

"O-ook?"

T-the smell of sweat and armor polish and the colour of autumn leaves? Worrying?

They weren't words. Minato could really smell sweat and armor polish, and see the colour of autumn leaves.

"You're saying you are worried about the Captain."

"Ook!"

Battle howls effectively drove danger away! The feeling of mating with healthy female!

Now he's saying he's happy communication is working, Minato realized.

and I did not need that mental image for once we agree

"He's not in immediate danger. It's happened before. Had to rescue a girl. For now…"

He looked at the ape with a blank expression.

"You'll have to carry meeugh-"

With a last cough of blood, he fell face-first on the floor and lay there unmoving.

The librarian looked at him. Then turned to look at Ridicully. Then back at him.

Then he panicked.

The 13th hour ended. All over city, coffins returned to life.

If one were to be standing in front of the Library, and stared at its open doors, the effect would be like seeing a kaleidoscope made out of bubbles shift upon itself, until the tunnels became once again a perfectly normal, absurdly magic, Library.

But no one was there to see.

1 As well as a single, winged leaf, which covered his Indecency. Fedecks was one of the Old Gods, the ones before togas.

2 Including each other.

3 Patina's symbolic animal was an owl, but since good artists are rare and expensive and, as the head priest of her church would sometimes say, "we aren't a charity you know", they got a subpar sculptor to do her statue. The end result was a sudden change in belief, and a new pet that tripped all the time. She knew firsthand how people's beliefs define a god's appearance.

4 Well, "satisfy" between quotation marks, but since the alternative would be attacking him again, (5) they took whatever excuse they could to forgive him.

5 Gods aren't known to think outside the box very much.