Somehow, the Palace seemed different from what Goro had expected. Perhaps he was expecting to see something that was similar to Mementos in shape or form, but this . . . this was wholly different. Instead of a pink-red anachronistic fusion of a city and ancient fossils, he found himself standing before what he was very sure was . . . some sort of mine.

In the back of his mind, Loki hissed, and even Robin recoiled. Goro's stomach lurched as he stepped in. Something was . . . off here. Was that the distortion?

Regardless, his guard was up as he walked closer to the mine, ignoring the twisting sensation of dread that pooled in his stomach as he walked closer.

Half an hour later, Goro was getting bored of just walking. He wasn't tired, per se—it was hard to get tired when one didn't have a corporeal form that required sustenance—but no matter how much he walked towards the mine, it still seemed to be the same distance away. It's like some sort of mirage . . . based on what Lavenza said, could this be a result of cognition . . . ?

Lavenza, Robin, and Loki had all played a hand in trying to explain some of the inner workings of these cognitive worlds to him, and this seemed to apply to this one—when a Palace ruler's cognition stated that something couldn't intervene with a certain part of the world, it would form an impossible barrier to break until that cognition was changed.

So, logically, the ruler of this Palace likely believed that it would be impossible to get to the mine. Or, well, whatever they saw as the mine.

What will you do? Loki's voice purred. You cannot get in like this, but you have the power to force your way through cognition. Will you do it?

"I'm at an impasse here," Goro agreed, "but what would be the effects of breaking in on the ruler's cognition?"

Thoughtful as ever, Robin appraised, but for once, I must agree with the impulsive one. You have no way to manually alter the ruler's cognition in reality—the only reason you are left to wander this realm is because you exist within the Sea of Souls.

"Sea of Souls . . ." Goro echoed. Lavenza and Igor had both mentioned it to him at some point, but they had never exactly explained what it was. He would have to ask the next time he was in the Velvet Room.

What do you mean, 'impulsive', you knave? Loki retorted in response to Robin's earlier quip.

Thou cannot possibly be referring to me as the knave, when thou art the manifestation of a chaos lord—

"Both of you, please shut up," Goro cut in, effectively cutting the argument short. "Are you two always like this?"

Yes, Loki said.

Robin said No.

Goro sighed, more inclined to believe Loki on this one.

"If we want to get in, we'll have to get the Palace ruler's attention," he said slowly. "Once they know we're here, we could probably press forward."

And what better way to get attention than to cause chaos?

"Come, Loki!"

Loki materialised beside Goro, all black and white stripes and patterns, wielding a glowing, translucent red sword.

A Shadow appeared then, much like the non-human ones he'd seen so many of within Mementos. The only difference was that instead of looking like monkeys from Temple Run, this one was dressed in miner's garb with giant, chunky science goggles.

"Break off its mask!" Loki instructed, and Goro followed through, pouncing on the Shadow as it stepped off the minecart, and ripped off the goggles. The Shadow spurted into red and black goo, then transformed into what looked like a winged goat man.

It bears a resemblance to Loki, Robin snickered.

"Robin," Goro warned. Then, automatically, he said, "Loki, use Call of Chaos!"

Immediately, the Shadow frenzied, bucking and kicking wildly, attacking a line of other Shadows that had just gotten off the minecart. Immediately, the Shadows started fighting each other, breaking out into full fledged pandemonium.

"Think that should be enough to get attention?" Goro asked, somehow feeling a strange thrill from just having made Shadows go feral. Loki laughed as he returned to his place within Goro's mind.

Goro's attention was recaptured by another Shadow

Trickster, Robin said, this time serious, it appears as though all these cognitive beings would see you as one of them.

"One of . . . them? You mean . . . I look like a Shadow to them?"

Precisely. To Shadows and cognitions, you appear as an extremely strong Shadow. It is only beings in their undistorted forms that will be able to see you as you see yourself. However . . . I am unsure if this applies to the Palace's ruler as well.

"What do you mean?" Goro tried to wrack his brain, something tugging on the edge of his memories. "If a Palace is a manifestation of its ruler's cognition, I suppose I wouldn't be a part of that cognition . . ." he said slowly. "So the other Shadows would see me as Shadows, but does that mean that the ruler would see me as I am, as well as people from reality?"

People with contracts to Personas. Those from reality would be affected by the distortions as well, Robin corrected.

All these Shadows are wanderers from the Sea of Souls as well, Loki added. They have no individuality, no identity. Some words will resonate with them, others will not, but they are not like you. You are unique, you are special.

Goro preened. "I am, I suppose. People typically don't get second chances after death, after all."

"WHAT IS GOING ON HERE?"

Goro turned sharply to the source of the bellow—it was a female Shadow that emanated power, clearly the ruler of the Palace. She had short black hair that was held into a bun with a pencil, with her fringe pinned away from her face, and wore a white lab coat over what looked like the same miner garb that all the other Shadows wore.

But what was most prominent were her piercing yellow eyes, not obscured in the slightest by the thick glasses on her face, her gaze surveying the area with an eerie calm.

Something about the fact that she'd been so loud without looking like she'd shouted put Goro on edge.

The Shadow sighed, pushing her glasses up the bridge of her nose. "All of you, get back to work. We're extremely close to making a breakthrough here."

Abashed, the Shadows straightened themselves, instantly turning back towards the minecarts that would take them into the mine.

Here's my chance, Goro decided, discreetly following after the ruler, immediately wishing that whatever fancy prep school uniform he was wearing could be traded for more stealthy attire.

All you needed to do was ask, Loki chuckled in his mind, and blackness enveloped Goro until he was left in a skintight outfit covered in belts, and his head was encased in a black helmet and a translucent glass mask, both of which ended in a sharp point at his nose.

But, while the outfit looked stealthy, the transformation did not. The Palace ruler's Shadow turned around immediately, eyes narrowing at the pillar behind which Goro was. "Who's there?" she demanded, stalking closer. Her heels clicked on the stone floor as she approached.

Figuring there was no point in hiding, Goro stepped out from behind the pillar. His face was completely hidden; there was no way she would be able to recognise him.

She stared intently at him, making Goro shift a little in discomfort. Something about her gaze made him feel like she was picking him apart completely. Even Loki and Robin fell quiet.

Then a smile spread across her face. "It's been so long since I've seen you here, Goro-kun!"

He froze. Did she know him? How? And for how long? Had he been here before, to this very Palace? Or did she know him in his real life from before? No, his face was obscured; she must have recognised the outfit somehow. And . . . why did it feel so weird to hear his first name? "H-how do you . . ." he straightened. "Who are you?"

She frowned. "You don't remember me?"

"I can't say I remember much of anything, really . . ." Goro bit his lip. "I have amnesia," he said curtly. He didn't feel like it was safe to reveal too much, not when this woman seemed so suspicious.

Not that there was much he could reveal.

The woman looked at him with what looked like genuine concern. "Follow me, Goro-kun," she said softly. "I can help you with that. You can trust me, okay?" she said, reaching to pat him over his helmet. "I promise we'll get your memories back."

Figuring there wasn't much else to do, Goro followed her into the mine.

I am thou, thou art I.

Thou hast acquired a new vow.

It shall become the bonds of friendship

that giveth thee a place in thy world.

With the birth of the Hierophant Persona,

I have obtained the winds of blessing that

shall lead to acceptance and freedom.

"So," the Shadow said gently, "do you still have Robin's outfit?"

Goro recoiled. She knew about Robin Hood? And that his Personas gave him different outfits? How—?

"I suppose you wouldn't remember how I know," she said, nodding as though she'd read his mind. "I'm actually a cognitive psience researcher, and you were one of my subjects."

He was . . . what? A research subject? Then how did that correlate with his heart looking like a recording studio? What relevance would acting and false niceties have if he was a research subject? And who could have been the person he'd formed that bond with?

Also, there was the irrefutable fact that the idea of him being a research subject was entirely screwed up, but Goro was willing to shelve that away for later.

For the first time since meeting the Shadow, Robin spoke up in his mind. If you want answers, you must find them for yourself.

"My sole interest is uncovering the truth," Goro said, the words coming to him automatically.

And just like that, the stealthy, constricting black outfit was replaced with a blinding white and red ensemble, looking more like it belonged to an idol or a prince.

"Just as bright as I remember," the Shadow cooed.

It was definitely more comfortable than the other outfit, especially with the softer material and the fact that it didn't feel like it was made from bulletproof armour. "How much . . . do you know about me?" he asked, still wary. "You said you research cognitive psience, and that I was your subject—so have you seen my cognitions as well?"

The Shadow laughed a quiet, gentle laugh, and she laid a hand upon his head, patting it gently. "I'll explain it to you, don't worry. Just follow me, okay?"

Intrigued, Goro agreed.

Akira woke up with tears staining his pillow. Again. For the same reason as it always was.

He missed Akechi.

It was silly, on some level. He'd barely known Akechi for a few months—hell, had he really ever known him at all?

Something akin to twisted guilt and terror gripped him. He'd thought—he'd thought—he'd thought that he'd bonded with Akechi, almost every time they met.

In retrospect, everything about Akechi felt inevitable.

Even his death, maybe.

Akira didn't know what to think. His mind seemed to be wandering everywhere and nowhere, to the point where he was genuinely attempting to get into his own Palace, MetaNav or not, just so he could understand what his mind was trying to get at.

Other than pining for Goro Akechi, of all people.

Was pining the wrong word? It was more like drowning in a sea of guilt and regret, clinging to a halfhearted wish that he could have spent time to understand him, to maybe show him that there were people who would care about and accept him; that Akira cared about and accepted him.

Okay, no, pining was definitely the right word.

Akira didn't want to think about the implications of that.

He pulled out his phone to text Ryuji to ask if there were any training regimens he knew of that could allow him to literally run into the Metaverse—

Right, he wasn't talking to Ryuji now, was he?

He missed Ryuji, too. And his other friends.

Akira still hadn't spoken to any of them; hadn't seen any of their faces outside of his contacts list since that day at Leblanc.

Morgana was the only one whose presence felt comforting now—almost like he was an emotional support animal for Akira.

His phone buzzed again—this time, not from the Phantom Thieves group chat, but a text from Iwai.

Munehisa Iwai [Gun Dad]

Yo kid

Heard youre back in town

Swing by the shop when ya
can

Kaoru'd like ya to drop in too

Akira couldn't help but smile—it had been a while since he'd spoken to Kaoru. They'd occasionally have video calls, but given that Kaoru had just started high school at the time, he'd been busy trying to adjust to Shujin.

Kaoru wouldn't judge him for having a Palace, Akira figured.

Well, not that Kaoru would ever know anything about it.

Akira got up, stretched, and showered. Showering in the morning wasn't a luxury he'd been able to afford the last time he was here, in Tokyo—living in Leblanc meant he could only use the bathhouse in Yongen-Jaya, which pretty much eliminated any possibility of bathing in the mornings.

By the time Akira was putting on his shoes to leave, Morgana had long since been awake. "Where are you going?"

Akira shrugged a shoulder. "Untouchable. Iwai sent me a text and there's something I want to check with him." He glanced at the silencer on the table, sighed, then dumped it into his bag, along with Akechi's ray gun.

"What's that?"

"Gun silencer. You coming, Mona?"

"Why do you have a gun silencer with you!"

Akira couldn't fight the wistful smile that formed on his face. "You wouldn't believe me if I told you."

Morgana looked away guiltily, but fell into stop beside Akira as he shut the door behind him and the two headed out.

"This isn't the way to the station," Morgana pointed out, narrowly avoiding a boot to his tail.

Akira immediately scooped him up. "I'm gonna stop by the Todai campus on the way. Classes are gonna start in about a week, so I'm gonna go check out some of the textbooks and stuff I need."

"Human stuff is weird," Morgana said decidedly, burrowing further into Akira's hold.

"You wouldn't be wrong about that," Akira agreed, dropping a light kiss onto the fur on Morgana's head. Damn, the cat knew he had Akira wrapped around his little toe beans.

He was lucky he'd gotten an apartment that was close to the university—he was able to reach the campus within ten minutes of brisk walking, especially since it was so close to the station. All the money he'd made from pillaging Shadows and Palaces the last time he'd been in Tokyo had made it easy for him to buy his own apartment with a little input from his parents.

Akira wondered if they just wanted to get rid of him, just like his friends had. Just because they hadn't talked about his record when he'd gotten back home didn't mean that they hadn't held it against him.

Akira almost wished he'd chosen to go abroad for university; his English was decent enough for him to get by, and his grades were plenty good for an average foreign university. Instead, he'd chosen to stay in Tokyo so he could finally see his friends again.

But noooo, he'd just found out that for some damned reason he had a Palace because somehow, the Metaverse was back now. Because of that, the people he'd once have trusted with his life thought he was some vile monster that needed to be punished.

To hell with them. They didn't even know his keywords. He didn't even know his keywords.

"Ah, excuse me— Akira!" A voice that was unmistakably Yusuke's cut through Akira's thoughts. Instinctively, he tugged Morgana closer, ignoring the artist trailing behind him.

"Yusuke?" Morgana asked, ears pricking up.

"Morgana, not now, please," Akira begged, ducking into a side alley to slip out of Yusuke's sight. I forgot that Ann and Yusuke's university is nearby as well . . .

Both Ann and Yusuke had applied and gotten into Tokyo's University of the Arts; Ann for her acting and Yusuke for his art.

Yusuke Kitagawa [F0X]

akira, i know you're arounf
here somewherw

there is a matter of great
urgebcy that i would like
to dicuss wirh you

i am making tyois in my
haste

*typos

Akira was so tempted to open the chat and reply. Amongst all the former Phantom Thieves, Yusuke had always been the one most willing to listen to and understand Akira, too.

But Akira still didn't want to talk to him—not after he'd been in on meeting up without him.

Yusuke Kitagawa [F0X]

also, you promised sushi

and i haven't eaten lunch
for a few days

Well, no matter how hurt Akira was, he couldn't let Yusuke starve.

Yusuke Kitagawa [F0X]

I'm outside the todai campus

then i'll see you in a few
minutes.

furthermore, there is an
additional matter of
curiousity which we must
speak about

*curiosity

are crows native to japan?

Akira froze. Was . . . was Yusuke starting to remember? Of course, knowing Yusuke, the mention of crows could have been entirely coincidental. But . . . it was a little too in line with the fact that Akechi had been the only thing that Akira's attention would catch on to.

But then again, Yusuke wasn't the kind to be subtle or beat around the bush; he was direct and straightforward to the point where he was blunt.

There had to be something going on—was Igor giving the others their memories back? Akira wished he knew—he barely knew anything about this Igor, the real one—because then at least he would have something to go off of.

Something to think about other than his Palace and Akechi.

"Akira!" Yusuke called out, drawing his attention. Morgana leaped out of Akira's arms and yowled something about living daylights

Akira's eyes snapped up to meet Yusuke's, grey meeting deep blue. "Yusuke," he said quietly, shifting his gaze away. "I'm . . . gonna be right back, I actually came to sort something out here," he mumbled, wishing he'd worn his glasses today as he slipped into the campus, leaving Morgana out with Yusuke.

Akira took a few moments to calm down. He wasn't expecting to see Yusuke again so soon, especially knowing that he and the others were likely trying to get into his Palace. He didn't really want to have to see Yusuke so soon.

Liar, said another voice inside him.

He ignored it, opting to try to talk to the woman in the admin office without letting his agitation seep through.

By the time he finished up and had gathered himself enough to step outside, Morgana and Yusuke were on a bench outside, eating what looked a lot like the Pretz that Akira had put in his bag earlier.

Taking a deep breath, he approached the two. "So . . . sushi?"

Yusuke sprung up off the bench, eyes practically shining, Morgana using the momentum as a springboard to leap onto Akira's shoulders.

As it turned out, neither Akira nor Yusuke actually had enough money on hand for an actual sushi place . . . which brought them to a small conveyor belt sushi restaurant in Shibuya.

"As you know," Yusuke said, starting the conversation (since it was clear that Akira wouldn't), "I was able to get a scholarship admission to Tokyo Geidai."

"Congrats," Akira said quietly.

"But it turns out that the dorms there need to be paid for in advance."

And Yusuke, of course, was dead broke. Akira turned to face him. "So what did you do?"

"It's quite the interesting story, actually," Yusuke said, smiling halfway. "I decided to talk to Kawanabe-san and ask him if he knew what course of action would be most apt."

"What did he say?" Morgana popped his head out of Akira's bag, snatching a shrimp nigiri off Akira's plate.

"Well, as it turned out, before Kawanabe-san and Madarame fell out of contact—" Yusuke took a bite of ginger, "—Madarame had entrusted Kawanabe with his will."

"So . . . he left his things to you?" Akira ventured a guess.

"He did. According to Kawanabe-san, there were some legal complications, given that the money was generated through scams, but no one who bought any of the counterfeit Sayuris were willing to admit to it, so Kawanabe-san pulled a few strings, visited Madarame in jail, and, well . . ."

Akira nodded, encouraging him to continue.

"Legally, all of his possessions will be left to me when I turn twenty, but until then, Madarame will be paying for any tuition issues that aren't covered by my scholarship, such as food and room. They suggested I get a credit card, but Kawanabe-san vetoed the idea and said that he would appropriate the funds for me. Quite nice of him, don't you think?"

"Definitely," Akira agreed. What he didn't say was that Kawanabe had the right idea, given that the moment Yusuke saw some art supplies he liked, he'd blow all the funds in one go and leave nothing for his actual wellbeing.

Despite everything, Yusuke still hadn't learned how to spend his money in a way that was healthy.

Then again, Akira had almost bought Akechi a bangle once that cost ¥78,000, so he didn't really have much room to talk—but at least he knew better than to let himself starve to buy things.

He wondered if Akechi would have kept the bangle if he'd gotten it for him.

"So you're gonna be staying on campus?" Morgana asked, this time swiping a piece of ginger.

"That is right," Yusuke affirmed. "We'll be quite close to one another. Ann and Makoto as well."

"Mmm." Akira didn't say more.

Morgana poked his head out of the bag again. "Where were you staying after school ended, then?"

"Oh, Boss allowed me to stay in the attic in Leblanc after I graduated from Kosei," he said nonchalantly.

Something inside Akira coiled and twisted. That had been—that had been his space. Akira had worked to make himself home there; had cleaned it when it was little more than a dusty old dump, had tidied the books and shelves and the worktable, had brought trinkets from outing with his confidants. It was where he'd been at home here in Tokyo.

No wonder they were all meeting at Leblanc without him. Clearly, they didn't associate Leblanc with Akira anymore.

"Akira," Yusuke said, his voice a little quieter now, "why have you been avoiding us?"

Something inside Akira flared. "Well, I don't know, maybe because you guys are meeting without me? Talking about how messed up I must be, to have a Palace?" Taking every single thing from me that used to be mine?

"What?" Yusuke seemed offended. "Do you really think that we were talking behind your back, of all things?"

"Why else would you want to meet up without me? You guys don't need me anymore! Shiho's better now and Ann doesn't need to talk to me anymore. Ryuji's getting physiotherapy for his leg and you're finally getting the financial security and care you need. Haru's been able to manage her company well, and Futaba's finally been able to come out of her shell. And Makoto's managing just fine as the leader, too. I don't even have my Persona anymore—not even one. I'm—I'm worthless now, Yusuke. There's nothing I can do for you guys anymore, there's no reason for you guys to even want me around." And Akechi is dead, because I'm incompetent! Dead, completely forgotten. Because of ME. And there's nothing I can do to compensate!

Akira didn't even realise he was shaking until Morgana laid a paw on his thigh.

Yusuke said, "Why would we need a reason to want you around?"

Akira didn't know how to answer that. If he had nothing to offer, why did they want him there? He didn't know.

"Tell me, Akira, what was it that I offered you in exchange for friendship?"

Akira thought back to two years ago, when Yusuke had first joined the Phantom Thieves after defeating Madarame. He'd asked Akira to join him in Mementos when he first painted Desire, and then . . . "Skill cards," Akira blurted out, regretting the words the second they were out of his mouth.

"Skill cards?" Yusuke echoed, appalled. "So this entire time, has it just been a matter of give and take for you? Just a deal of convenience?"

Akira didn't know what to say. He did care about Yusuke, about all his confidants—

Confidants? Not even friends? "I—I'm sorry, I, I didn't mean it like—"

"Then tell me how you did mean it, Akira."

Akira hung his head. "I . . ." He stood up abruptly, left enough money on the table to cover both his and Yusuke's portion of the meal and then some, and got out as fast as he could.

Neither Yusuke nor Morgana followed him, but he could practically feel their gazes boring into him. Too late, he realised he never got to ask about Crow.

Stepping into Untouchable was like finding a safe room in a Palace. The majority of the tension built from that impromptu meeting with Yusuke eased when he saw Iwai at the counter, chewing on a lollipop stick and leaning over a newspaper.

"Yo," he greeted.

Iwai looked up, and grinned. "S'been a while, kiddo." He reached over and ruffled Akira's hair, then frowned. "Something bothering ya?"

Akira didn't want to talk about it. "I don't really . . ."

"I won't push you." Iwai raised a model gun, scrutinising it carefully—had he just finished customising it? Probably. "But," he continued, holding up the gun as if to aim it, "if you're having problems with anyone, I wouldn't mind scaring 'em off for ya."

He wondered if Iwai could scare his friends away from his Palace. Maybe his cognition could? Then again, that would require the Phantom Thieves getting into his Palace in the first place . . .

And after what he'd said to Yusuke, that was probably the last thing he wanted. Akira sighed, then glanced at Iwai—looking back, even his relationship with Iwai was founded upon a deal: in return for helping Iwai with the shop and the Hashiba Clan, Iwai allowed him to have specially customised guns at a cheaper price.

Was he really that shallow?

He sighed, pushing it aside. "I'm alright. Just readjusting to the city." His bag felt heavy with the gun, as though it was literally weighing him down. "Say . . . Iwai, do you know anything about where this could have come from?" Akira took the silencer out and passed it to him.

Iwai frowned, scrutinising it carefully. "This looks like it's made for police issued firearms," he said. "The real deal. How'd you get your hands on it?"

"I, uh, found it?"

Iwai squinted at him. "Even cops themselves can't take them out without warrants and signs." He frowned, then sighed. "Don't get yourself into situations you'll regret. And don't get caught with it on you, or you'll get into massive trouble."

Akechi had had it on him even when he died . . . ? How did he get it in the first place? Did Shido give it to him? Or was it someone associated with the police force?

"Say, didn't you have a cat?"

Akira jumps a little. "Uh— yeah, he didn't feel like coming around here today."

"Cats can be pretty independent," Iwai agreed. "Well, come on, Kaoru's waiting for us at the diner." Iwai dropped the silencer back into Akira's hands, gesturing for him to follow.

Akira nodded as he dropped the silencer into his (currently cat-less) bag and followed.