He awoke to a calloused hand gripping his chin, pulling him up from wherever he'd fallen to. His vision swam as he attempted to open his eyes, but slowly, a well dressed figure came into focus in front of him.

"Finally awake, you lousy drunkard? For a moment I worried there you were out cold. Here, if I'm going to deal with you, I'd want this to be fair… it's no fun to kick someone who's already down." The mouth of a bottle was pushed between his lips, and his mouth was full a liquid briefly tasted like fruit before it began to burn down his throat.

The fire seem to spread from his gut out towards his limbs, making his chest feel tight and his nerves scream as it burned away the fog that had been weighing them down.

With it, he remembered.

He was Detective Ryotaro Dojima; he had been visiting his former partner who'd been arrested a year ago for the murders of two women in his hometown of Inaba. His nephew, who was once again staying with him, had tried to explain to him how it had been caused by a world inside the television sets and a wrathful god; while he admitted privately to himself that there were things that couldn't be explained about the case, he'd never admit such nonsense held water.

Until today.

Today, of all days, a riot had started in the prison, leading to a lockdown and power failure. He'd scrabbled for a gun that wasn't there; they'd made him check it before entering the visiting room. Still, he hadn't gone down without a fight, before a wave of prisoners had broken down the dividers and pushed him, Adachi, and several guards into a corner. Someone had just made a solid uppercut to his jaw when he'd heard an "Oh crap!" from his former partner…

….And suddenly, they were falling, all of them, into darkness.

He coughed as the bottle was snatched back from his lips, still feeling like his entire being was ablaze even as the fog lifted. He tried to bring his hands up to wipe his face, only to find them bound behind his back.

"Ah, ah, let's not be greedy, lousy detective, this is powerful stuff. I want this an even match, not unfairly weighted to one side… no matter how much you'd need it." The figure laughed as realization dawned on him.

The figure in front of him, holding him captive in this smoke filled room...was himself.

Or at least, someone (or something) that wore his face and used his voice. Unlike the detective, currently without his suit jacket and developing what he suspected was more than a few bruises; this, er, him was immaculately dressed in a black suit, jacket and all, clean shaven and wearing a smirk. The difference that held his attention, though, was this imposter's eyes. Cold, narrowed, golden eyes that seemed to laugh at him.

"Poor, pathetic, useless me, can't save anyone, can you? We couldn't save Chisato. Couldn't save Adachi. Couldn't save that poor singer." The imposter brought his face within inches of his own. "Couldn't even save our poor daughter, when she needed her daddy most." The imposter laughed and pushed himself away from his captive, even as Dojima pulled at his bonds, desperate to land a punch and shut this asshole up.

"I'm sick and tired of having to watch you throw it all away." The imposter continued, as he sat down in a twisted throne opposite the bound detective. Ghostly figures that resembled women in expressionless masks slinked towards him, bringing him a tumbler of liquor and a lit cigarette. "For what, a dead case that you'll never solve? You're pathetic. Won't even take the promotional exam! Not that it matters; we both know you're nothing better than a washed up detective from a backwater town, nothing more."

The imposter slipped the bottle he'd made Dojima drink from into the breast pocket of his jacket, before raising his own glass to his prisoner. He took a long sip, chuckling as the detective growled in response. "Yes, yes, growl like the stray mutt that you are."

Dojima glared at this cracked version of himself, blood pounding in his ears as he again tried to pull himself free. The liquid fire still burned in his belly, travelling down each nerve as his muscles screamed against his bonds. He felt lightheaded, his anger and the fire making the blood boil in his chest. This stupid asshole wearing his face reminded him of Adachi in some ways, after he'd confessed. He seemed to revel in the betrayal he was voicing.

He knew he'd had these dark thoughts before; many of them he'd been forced to confront when Yu had stayed with them, and the terrible incidents from the year before. He didn't know how this imposter could know his darkest secrets, let alone voice them with such blase. Something about this yellow-eyed copy of himself reminded him of something… he just couldn't remember what it was…

Then, like a cold knife, a memory cut through his boiling anger. It was of Yu, describing the trials the kids had gone through in order to save everyone and bring Adachi to justice. We were forced to face our inner demons, he said, in the form of our shadow selves. In denying them, we gave them power, and only when we accepted them were they defeated.

Was that what this being was, holding him hostage? His inner nightmares, brought to life? His…'shadow'?

That fall in the prison… he tried to remember the layout of the visitor's room. Yes, there was a large flatscreen in the corner. Had Adachi somehow pushed him in here in the confusion? No, he'd been behind him when the mob had pushed them. Probably brought him here completely by accident, then, in the effort to escape. How many others had fallen in with them? Were they all in this position, being tortured by their repressed issues and thoughts? The cool clarity of it all doused the fire burning in his limbs, leaving him feeling like freshly forged steel. Behind him, the bonds holding him snapped.

Dojima bowed his head, and laughed.

"Hmm? Something funny? Have you finally gotten the joke that is your life?" His...shadow rested his chin on the back of his hand in that twisted throne of his.

Dojima ignored the jab and continued to chuckle. "I thought they had made it all up. This… world inside the tv. Guess it's just one of those things you gotta see to believe, huh?" His shadow stood up, his brow furrowed as his strode towards the detective. "I get it now. It must be so easy to deny the worst of yourself if they're a separate entity, calling you out. To deny that those terrible thoughts and emotions are yours." The shadow now stood above him, another dark thought on his tongue.

Before the shadow could speak, Dojima sprang like a coiled snake, his fist connecting solidly with his doppelganger's chin. The shadow recoiled before springing back at him, both men locking arms and fists like fighting bulls. "I get it. You're me. I remember every time I felt like a failure, every time I looked at Nanako and saw Chisato, asking why I hadn't saved her. It took my nephew saving my ass to see it." Dojima's knee slammed into his shadow, pulling them apart. "Doesn't mean I don't want to still kick your ass."

The two men circled each other, two predators sizing up the competition. "This is going to be much more interesting than originally planned, I see." The Shadow Dojima stripped off his coat, rolling his sleeves. "If I was going to finally have my day with you, I wanted it a fair fight. Not like the others, who were happy to let the fog dull their counterparts. No, if I was going to take you down, I wanted to make it fun. I'm so glad she agreed."

"You talk too damn much, you know that?" The fire in his stomach was growing again, his blood hot and loud. He sensed an opening and took it; his fist slamming into his shadow's stomach, followed by a roundhouse to the face, before grabbing the collar and slamming him to the wall with a bit too much relish. The blood in his ears began to hum and he lifted the other man up to slam him again, reveling in the look in those golden eyes.

"No, no! You aren't supposed to be this strong… you're not supposed to win!" Hands that scrabbled with the arms that held him began to darken and sharpen, becoming claws that drew blood. The shape began to shift under Dojima's grip, gaining size and changing away from his own face….

"Uncle!" Dojima turned at the sound of Yu's voice behind him, and that was enough of an opening for the shadow to break free, roaring at the new intruders. The darkness coalesced into its final shape; a giant black wolf with golden eyes and silver teeth as long as an arm.

"No! I won't lose!" The wolf shadow snarled in a corrupted version of Dojima's voice. It lunged at the group of teens, those sharp teeth seeking flesh to sink into.

Suddenly, a great figure sprang up around his nephew, which summoned a bolt of lightning and fried the air around the great Shadow, but bounced off. "It's no good- it reflects electricity! You need to find another way to defeat it!" The Rise girl's voice seemed to echo inside Dojima's head, and brief vision of weak points overlaid his sight.

One by one, Yu's friends attacked with varying degrees of success, each summoning their own creatures or figures to fight. What a way to learn it was all real. He made a mental note to apologize to them later - if they survived this.

Damnit, this thing came from him; he should be the one fighting it. He cursed at his lack of sidearm here for the upteenth time as he scrabbled for something he could use.

His hand closed around the handle of something in the dark corner of the room; a bat, heavy and crude, sticking out of a box.

The Shadow was advancing on one of the kids who'd been knocked down by a previous attack; Hanamura, it looked like. Still, it kept its eyes on the whole group, ready to attack any of them before they could land a hit. Everyone, that is, except Dojima.

The fire in his core now molten hot, the bat slammed up into the sternum of the wolf creature with every ounce of strength he had. It must of caught the shadow off guard, because the blow sent it flying through the air, onto its back, momentarily disoriented. Everyone saw this as the opening they needed, and set upon the creature in a cloud of fists, kicks and swings.

"Are you sure you're alright, Uncle?" Yu watched his uncle carefully as they made their way out of the twisted shadow version of Inaba's police station.

"Again, Yu, I feel fine." Better than fine, really. He hadn't felt this good in years, if ever. The fire had subdued to an ember, but he felt like he could go for another ten rounds with every damn creature in this world. He shifted the suit jacket slightly across his shoulders, noting the look of concern hadn't left his nephew's face. "Why, shouldn't I be?"

"Previously, when we've rescued victims of this place, the fog and confrontation of one's shadow's self leaves them completely exhausted and weak." Shirogane piped up, a step behind them. "Though, we did get to you sooner than most… still, it is remarkable that you're still on your feet, Dojima-san, let alone still able to fight with us."

His free hand went to his chest. His 'Shadow'... now transformed from the great wolf nightmare into his own personal Persona: the great golden dragon Kohryu. Somehow, the creature felt like an old friend, resting just beneath his skin…

A flash of memory was sparked by Shirogane's words. Something his shadow had said to him. "...I wanted it a fair fight. Not like the others, who were happy to let the fog dull their counterparts. No, if I was going to take you down, I wanted to make it fun. I'm so glad she agreed..."

He repeated the words and the events before his nephew's arrival.

"She…? Who could he be speaking about? ….Izanami? And I'm curious about this vial. Perhaps that is the reason you aren't exhausted like the rest?" Shirogane tapped her chin thoughtfully. "It might be still up at the top of the police station…"

"Er, Naoto, I'm curious too, but do you really want to fight our way through that mess to check?" Yu looked worried.

"Oh, no, sorry. Just curious. It probably was destroyed in the battle, anyways."

Dojima half-listened to the conversation as he fished into his pocket for a cigarette and a light. He could have sworn he had a lighter in his suit jacket…

Instead of a lighter, his hand closed around a small glass bottle. He remembered, he hadn't had his jacket when they'd fallen in. He must have absentmindedly picked up his shadow's discarded one, after it was all over. The jacket he'd put that bottle in…

"...Uncle?"

Yu had asked to borrow the bottle for a moment when they'd returned to the main stage area. The strange little mascot kid from Junes was waiting for them, distracting Dojima from seeing his nephew duck into a door that appeared in the mist.

"Da da da da! Here you go, pops! I haven't made a pair in ages!" Dojima ignored the nickname to pick up what the bear was offering him: a set of aviator style tinted glasses. He slipped them on, amazed as the fog vanished around them.

"Oh, man, Teddie, I knew letting you watch Hot Fuzz was a bad idea…" The Hanamura kid moaned from a seat on the floor. Hmph. He rather liked the look.

Rise took a breath in and summoned her own creature, its radar head scanning the area around them. "I sense 5 others in here, but they're not nearly as far or as deep as Dojima-san was. We should be able to get to them, no problem."

The others gathered around her, making plans of attack, and leaving Dojima off to the side on his own. "Uncle, over here."

Dojima turned to see his nephew appear from a curl of blue smoke, another figure following behind him. The figure was a woman, with silver hair and a blue attendant's outfit. A thick, dark book was clasped under one arm, and the bottle in the other. He tensed when he noticed her golden eyes.

"Uncle Dojima, this is Margaret. She wanted to talk to you about the bottle your shadow had." The woman nodded, a strange humor dancing in those yellow orbs.

"Is she someone's shadow, too?" Yu stepped back at the shock of his uncle's words, but Margaret merely chuckled.

"Not all who have golden eyes here are shadows, detective." He noted it wasn't a denial, but decided not to press it. "I am merely a servant of the forces that guard humans from these realms." She held out the bottle to him.

"Tell me, detective, are you familiar with the story of how Izanagi defeated Izanami's army?" Dojima shook his head. Mythology had never been his strong suit. "When fleeing the underworld, Izanagi came upon a peach tree, and threw three peaches to defeat the horde of the dead coming after him. It was said that for this, the tree's fruit would grant the bounty of Izanagi's realm: strength, vitality, and youth to whomever ate them, burning away the waste of Izanami's touch."

Dojima's hand pressed against his middle; the fire that had been ebbing from his gut had rekindled at Margaret's words. If she noticed, she didn't mention it. "I have never seen a liqueur made from such peaches, so I am not entirely sure what they would do to someone. I can tell you, such a drink would not be meant for human hands. In the right amounts, it could change them completely and burn away their humanity." He couldn't tell if the emphasis on the word 'burn' had been hers or in his own head. "But from fire comes forged steel as well. So all I can say, detective, is guard that bottle close."

With that, Margaret nodded to Yu and stepped back into the mists. "So, you understand any of that?"

His nephew shook his head. "She did say you'd be fine to fight with us, er, if you want to, to save the others here, but… Margaret can be enigmatic."

"Hrmph. Well, then, let's go find the others and get moving, then. Those prisoners are dangerous criminals...I'd hate to see what's buried in their heads."

Yu grinned, and the two picked up their pace into the mists of the TV World, and the fire roared to life deep within Dojima, like an engine.