Hello everyone, after half a dozen one-shots I've finally gotten around to a full length story. Needless to say this story is going to be my attempt to give Persona 5's resident pancake boy better treatment than the game gave him. Of course it goes without saying it's going to obviously break from canon and will involve call-backs to past Persona games as well as address some of the game's plot holes.

I do not own anything.

Prologue-A Dreadful Fate

It went without saying that Mementos was not a pleasant place. No, it wouldn't have been wrong for some to call it hell, after all, wonder the twisted subway-like tunnels long enough and a person could probably go mad from what they saw. Red and black, two colors humanity had long associated with evil and darkness covered every inch of Mementos further driving home its nightmarish nature. If that weren't enough those unlucky enough to find their way into the alternate world would be treated to either morbid silence or the haunting howls and shrieks of roaming Shadows. Said Shadows were little more than wild animals, foul beasts born from the depths of the souls that made up the millions of people who called Tokyo home. That description actually summed up Mementos as a whole quite well-a twisted labyrinth created from the collective subconscious of the people of Tokyo, or so few thought.

Being a part of the Collective Unconsciousness access to a place like this was night impossible, at least for a normal human. Those who walked in this world walked with a supernatural power that would have seemed straight out of fiction. On this day and at this hour two such people decided to pay Mementos a visit. As the Shadows that sensed the presence of these two people they quickly sped along the tracks towards them eager to investigate. Within seconds they turned away in fear and dread seeing what the two trespassers were up to least they get caught up in the crossfire.

These two people had chosen Mementos where their attempts to kill each other could go unnoticed and uninterrupted.

Shadows of all shapes and sizes shrunk back and fled from the ongoing battle between the two fighters. The walls and pillars that made up Mementos' various levels shook from the thunderous clashes of their blows. Explosions and flashes of light lit up the dark tunnels illuminating the sickening flesh-like tendrils that covered the walls and the floor. Monstrous blasts of fire and lightning shot outwards in all directions annihilating anything before them, including Shadows who were too slow or too stupid to realize they'd gotten too close to the battle. Counteracting this javelin and arrow-like masses of light flew across the darkness, impacting stone and metal shattering them both to pieces. The backfire of attacks slowly but surely tore the various tunnels and platforms that made up Mementos' upper levels apart. In what had only been a few minutes the first and second levels of Mementos had been demolished forcing the duo to move their battle to the third level.

Peeking out from behind cover a handful of Shadows caught sight of the figures moments before their clash shattered the ground they were standing on. One of them was young and male, his features impossible to make out through a maelstrom of mystical blue flames that surrounded him. The other figure was male as well, but far older, looking like a grown man. Unlike his opponent the flames that surrounded him were wild and bright red, almost the color of blood-like. Behind the two figures twin figures rose up, each one brandishing a sword taller at least six feet tall, easily dwarfing the sizes of their human masters. The two otherworld figures roared behind their metal helmets before swinging their weapons at each other.

Looking away the Shadows failed to see the ground crack then break apart like glass beneath the two fighters. Though they couldn't see them the Shadows knew the two combatants had survived the fall. The evident sound of swords clashing beneath them confirmed their suspicions. A majority of the subconscious manifestations pulled back realizing if they lingered they'd be drawn into the battle between the two while others peered over the edges. They could smell the raw emotions rolling off the two fighters: anger, regret, sadness, and most of all excitement. It was simply too much for them to pass up.

Illuminating the darkness of the supernatural subway were the blades wielded by each combatant. The young man, a boy dressed in a princely white suit with a short red cap, his face obscured by a red bird-like mask, wielded what could only have been described as a laser sword. From the golden basket handle a long green blade composed of pure energy was projected and clashed against the solid blade of the boy's adversary. Parrying one blow after another the teenager's face maintained a fierce scowl behind his mask while his opponent's remained twisted in a gleeful smile showing he was clearly enjoying the battle more than his opponent. The teenager swung his saber with great intensity hoping at any moment his laser blade would cleave through his enemy's physical weapon and land a blow that would end the battle in his victory. Unfortunately for him such a thing was as likely as finding a penguin in the desert.

His opponent's weapon was a sword, but that was where the similarities ended. The term, "cleaver" would have done more justice to the weapon than anything. Faintly resembling something of a cross between an oversized katana and a metal cleaver its sides were illuminated by blood-red lining that ran up the length of the blade all the way to the edge giving the weapon a somewhat eerie and even haunting appearance. Red, green, and orange sparks exploded whenever the two weapons met in battle. Despite its size the sword's owner handled it with the dexterity of a master, parrying the teen's lightning-fast slashes with equal speed and keeping the battle in a stalemate.

Realizing he was getting nowhere the teenager jumped back, his free hand going to his face where his mask dissolved into a mass of blue flames. Above him red-hot flames manifested as did a giant bird whose body seemed to be coated in the fires of the sun. A name cried out, "Phoenix!" At the sound of its name the firebird shrieked then charged headlong towards its master's foe.

The man grinned in response summoning his own supernatural avatar. A muscular figure half covered in armor appeared around him, already raising its sword overhead. Arcs of bright yellow electricity coiled around the blade until it was little more than a sword-shaped bolt of lightning. Roaring the figure bright the weapon down just as the bird was about to make contact.

Mere seconds before the two collided the bird's body exploded in blinding orange and white light. Caught off guard the older man shut his eyes already knowing he'd fallen into the teen's trap. Despite this the grin never left his face even as he heard the boy call out to his most faithful servant.

"Take him down, Robin Hood!"

The sound was so quick and sudden it could have made a person's ears pop and their heart explode. Bracing himself the man held his sword out in front of him in a guard position as the four arrows, each one the size of a stop sign, sped towards him with bullet-like speed.

Four consecutive explosions signaled each arrow hitting their mark. The teenager remained low in his crouching position, the white body of his main Persona behind him patiently waiting for their foe to reappear. Both of them knew the battle wouldn't be settled so easily with such a minuscule attack. Their readiness served them well as the same muscular figure from behind pushed through the smoke, his sword once again raised high, this time with fire coating the steel blade. Robin Hood took off to meet his supernatural enemy while his human master readied himself, spacing his feet apart.

Dashing through the smoke reeling back his sword the older man bellowed a war cry that echoed through the tunnels before bringing his weapon down atop the teenager, who parried with his own laser sword. Seconds later and the teenager's own enraged shouting filled the subway as well as the gravel-like grunts of the ethereal spirits above them.

This back and forth continued onwards without end, the two sword-users going at each other with full intent to kill evident in their every attack. Their battle moved across Mementos like a giant train of death and carnage, decimating everything that got in their way. The white-clad teen continuously switched out his Personas while his opponent kept his one, yet the match remained even between the two fighters. Fire, ice, lightning, bolts of darkness, light beams, and boulders the size of trunks flew at the adult male, but few of the attacks made contact, and even less did significant damage. Explosive bursts of light and energy lit up the darkness and shattered the eerie silence that once permeated the depths of Mementos.

From a distance the Shadows watched the struggle with baited breath and narrow eyes. Though their teeth and bones rattled they remained on the edges of the battle, observing every move made by the two. In a twisted way some of the Shadows found something almost…enchanting in their battle against each other. The raw emotions held by the two fighters, the strength they gave off when they summoned their Personas, and the way Mementos shook from their repeated clash of attacks. It was rare for such an event like this to happen in Mementos, over the last year or so a band of teenagers had been making some noise with their daily visits to the supernatural realm. However, none of their visits resulted in this level of carnage. Truthfully it was almost frightening how easily these two were able to reach levels of mayhem that seven teenagers had only achieved once in a blue moon.

All thoughts and muttering came to an end when one of the two combatants landed a definite blow on his opponent. Like a pack of animals stunned by a flash of lightning or clap of thunder they all went still, frozen in the vacuum the sword slash had created.

At first it sounded like droplets of rain on concrete, slow and fragile, then the spray came. The Shadows all smelt it at once-the metallic, rich, empowering smell of blood. Amongst the more blood-thirsty of the assembled Shadows their instincts screamed for them to attack. It was quite literally like blood in the water.

The man stood in silent apathy as the teenager stumbled backwards, his grip on his laser blade faltering to the point he believed it would hit the ground any second. Instead it rose high, the emerald light of the weapon burning brighter and brighter. What came next was like a miniature solar flare, so powerful and blinding that everyone and everything for almost a quarter mile was caught in the effect.

As the flash faded and the adult realized his young prey had made a sneaky but well-timed escape he chuckled. He was happy even after receiving such a devastating blow je still found the strength to pull off such a daring escape.

"Run, run, little crow, run as far as you like. You can only fly so long before your wings finally give out." He chuckled swinging his sword to the side splashing the thick red paste across the tiled ground. Around him he heard the Shadows disperse and scatter like a pack of sharks or lions tracking their wounded prey. They wouldn't get far as they were hunting someone who'd already been marked, and the prey they thought would be too weak to fight back still had some fight left in him.

Never in all his life had the young man experienced physical pain like this. From his early days exploring the Metaverse a part of him had made peace with the thought of dying a violent death given the dangers that lurked around every corner. This on the other hand, wasn't quite what he was expecting. Death at the hands of a Shadow he'd expected, death at the hands one of the Phantom Thieves of Heart, he'd made peace with somewhere deep down inside.

But death at the hands of a man he despised almost as much as his father was something he simply couldn't allow.

That resolve in hand the teenage had pushed himself onward until he found what he considered would pass for a safe place for the moment. His back hit the pillar then he slid downwards, not having the strength to put up any effort into standing. Dropping his deactivated plasma saber he put both hands on the bloody gash now spanning the entire length of his stomach. The youth's formerly white and gold-accented uniform was stained bright red from not only the crimson wound along his stomach but from the various cuts and injuries he'd received from his earlier engagements. Blood sipped through his gray gloves and sleeves letting him feel the sticky liquid on his skin.

With trembling hands he reached upwards and removed his bird-noised mask. Wide brownish-red eyes searched the darkness in paranoid fear that either his enemy would appear or a Shadow would jump out and finish what he'd started. His entire body trembled with uncontrollable fear as if a wintery chill had him in its grips and was squeezing the life out of him. Sweat piled up on his brow causing his hair to stick to his face while his mouth began to run dry. Two voices in his head told him to take a moment and calm down, the more he panicked the quicker the Shadows would find him. There was a part of him that wanted to scream at the two to shut the hell up, but he knew the archer and the trickster were doing their best to help him.

A minute passed and the youth did manage to calm himself down a little. Looking downwards he saw his lower body had been almost entirely soaked through with blood. He had to stop the bleeding or else he'd bleed out before any other threat got to him. That's exactly what he'd do, as soon as he managed to move through the burning pain migrating through his body.

"I…never thought it'd hurt this bad." He whispered.

Well what did you expect? Gladiators aren't exactly known for swinging giant feathers you know. A cheeky voice on his right responded.

Loki! Be serious! Another voice on his left boomed. This one was firmer and sounded more mature. Naturally the youth agreed with it more, but he knew the voice on the right had a point. Goro, you must calm your mind and focus on the task at hand. Reach into your pocket and ingest the medicine.

You mean what medicine he has left? Remember, our friend back there was smart enough to crush most of it so I'm afraid we're running on fumes. Quite exciting, isn't it?

Gnashing his teeth Goro worked to do as his light-attributed Persona instructed. Needless to say it was easier said than done as it felt like the blood in his arms was beginning to freeze. Getting his fingers to even move took a strength of will he normally reserved for summoning his Personas and maintaining them while taking physical damage. Reaching into one of his remaining pouches he gripped and withdrew the first item he felt his fingers touch-a Life Stone. The small light-blue orb slipped from his fingers and rolled along the ground.

"Dammit!" Goro screamed exactly as another flare up of pain shot through him. Lightly smacking his head back up against the pillar he removed one hand from the wound. His glove was almost completely stained crimson from the wound on his stomach causing it to stick to his fingers. Blood on his hand, his blood. In spite of the situation Goro found something darkly ironic about it. "How the hell did I end up here?"

Stupid question. He knew exactly why he was here, in this place, in this hell. That being said, it was still an intriguing tell of how he, Goro Akechi, found himself sitting here, hiding out from a psychotic killer hell-bent on carving him up like a Christmas turkey.

Goro Akechi, there were so many identities behind that name: bastard child, orphan, student, Prince Detective, Phantom Thief, Crow, Charming Prince, Black Mask, black knight, assassin, liar, murder, and avenger. It was uncanny for a seventeen year-old boy to have so many personas, but Goro Akechi wasn't an average teenager. No, not by a mile.

For a moment the trembling stopped as Goro let his mind move away from the pain back to the beginning. There was a part of him that wanted to blame this current situation on everyone he knew starting from his father, Masayoshi Shido, to Akira to that stupid butterfly for putting thoughts into his head.

But the truth was this wasn't their fault. Like so many other things it was his.

It was his idea to offer himself as Shido's personal hitman. It was his idea to infiltrate the Phantom Thieves of Heart. It was his choice to accept Akira's proposed truce. It was his choice to accept Terashima's proposal to a one-on-one duel, and his choice to underestimate him.

"Karma, is that what this is?"

Ahem, yeah, this story is going to start out the same way the game does-in medias res with Goro in Akira's place and Mementos in the place of Sae's Palace. Obviously the rest of the story will be how Goro ended up in this situation, granted there won't be any cut-ins or intervals of the present. If you're interested in seeing how Pancake Boy got into this mess and how he might get out of it then read on.