The subtle change in Akihiko resembled the initial light of dawn breaking through after an extended, frigid night. He didn't revert to his former self in an instant.
The boisterous, self-assured fighter had vanished, giving way to a more subdued, watchful presence. However, he was there. He began to join us for meals on his own. He would even make a brief, blunt remark about Junpei's awful jokes.
A week after the train station mission, during one of their meals, Mitsuru's phone buzzed with a high-priority alert. She looked at the screen, her face becoming serious.
"Akihiko. Tanaka. Come with me," she said, standing up from the table. "The remaining members, please hold your positions."
Inside the command room, a big screen was showing a live feed from a secret sensor belonging to the Kirijo Group. It displayed a part of Tartarus, but the picture was all messed up, twisted by this pulsing, purple static that made it hard to see clearly.
"An anomaly has been detected on the 62nd floor," Mitsuru announced, focusing intently on the distortion that had caught her attention.
"The energy signature aligns perfectly with the residual patterns we have linked to Strega's rituals; however, it possesses a quality of being self-sustaining. It feels like the injury they caused to the tower is becoming infected."
Akihiko, who had been casually leaning against the wall with his arms crossed, suddenly straightened up, his posture shifting to one of alertness.
His eyes, still cloaked in shadows, fixated on the screen, revealing a brief spark of their former intensity. "A wound that is festering requires thorough cleaning."
"Exactly," Mitsuru remarked, turning to face us. "This operation will be executed with precision and care."
"Our approach will involve a compact team, allowing us to maintain both speed and precision in our operations. This will include both of you, as well as myself."
"Tanaka, your skill in establishing conceptual stability will serve as our main instrument."
"Akihiko," she said, her voice gently lowering, "your experience and raw power will serve as the scalpel."
He offered a quick, decisive nod, sharp and clear. "I understand."
A palpable change in the atmosphere enveloped him, and I could sense the concept surrounding him transform. The VOID remained, yet it was now interwoven with a delicate, piercing line of PURPOSE. This marked the beginning of something new.
Within the depths of Tartarus, the atmosphere felt distinct and unusual. The familiar weight of sadness was intertwined with a fresh, forceful sense of something being deeply amiss. The shifting halls appeared to moan in discontent, while the walls exuded a subtle, oily darkness that seemed to seep into the air. The Entity inside me awakened, not out of fear, but with a keen and analytical curiosity. The incident was acknowledged as a distortion within its domain.
We swiftly identified the origin of the distortion. There existed a rift within the very structure of the tower, a tear in the fabric of reality itself, from which a cascade of purple static emerged and flowed outward. Shadows did not come forth from it; instead, they were formless, breaking apart into a whirlwind of chaotic energy before they could even take shape.
"It is dismantling the fundamental rules that govern our existence," I whispered, as the Entity's perception granted me the ability to witness the intricate code of reality coming apart at the seams. "It is a truly overwhelming sense of CHAOS."
"Could you please take care of that?" Mitsuru inquired, her Evoker poised and ready.
"I'll give it a shot." I shut my eyes, trying to tap into the essence of my strength. I chose not to battle the chaos. I chose not to respond to force with more force. I chose to focus on the idea of COHERENCE. The concept of everything fitting together, of having meaning.
I placed it upon the divide.
A gentle, grey light flowed from me, spreading across the empty darkness. The jagged purple static flickered, as if the edges of the rift were beginning to come together and form a more solid shape. It felt like trying to keep a breaking dam from flooding with just some tape. The chaos was deep-rooted and all-consuming.
"This isn't enough," I said, feeling the sweat trickle down my forehead. "The corruption runs too deep. It's similar to attempting to take a cake apart after it's been baked."
"So, we won't be fixing the cake. We take out the bad ingredient," Akihiko said, his voice calm and even.
He moved ahead, walking right by me. Caesar appeared behind him, but this time, everything felt different. The lightning that surrounded the Persona was neither chaotic nor aimless. It was focused and exact, vibrating with a careful, lethal purpose. He was not engaged in battle driven by anger or sorrow. He was in the process of operating.
"Tanaka, when I say go, let go of your burden," he instructed, his eyes fixed on the rift.
I chose not to question him. "I am ready."
"Now!"
I introduced the idea of COHERENCE. In an instant, the rift surged with power, unleashing chaotic energy that burst outward in a spectacular display.
Then, Akihiko took a step forward.
Caesar's fist, a tightly packed bolt of lightning, failed to hit the rift. It hit right at the heart of the chaotic idea itself. The move was truly brilliant and strategic. He wasn't relying on sheer strength; instead, he was harnessing his ability to overwhelm and disrupt the anomaly right at its origin.
A sound emerged, reminiscent of the universe letting out a deep sigh of relief. The purple static disappeared completely. The rift closed up, and the walls of Tartarus became smooth again, as though nothing had ever happened there. The heavy burden of wrongness finally began to fade away.
The three of us stood there, catching our breath in the unexpected quiet that surrounded us. The operation turned out to be a success.
Akihiko gently lowered his Evoker, watching as Caesar gradually faded from view. He gazed at the wall, which had returned to its usual state, and then shifted his attention to his hands. A mix of emotions played across his face—there was sadness intertwined with a sense of grim satisfaction.
"That was really well done, Akihiko," Mitsuru said, her voice full of sincere admiration.
He gave a slight nod, his gaze remaining fixed on his hands. "It had a unique feeling to it. It's not the same as it used to be." At long last, he turned his gaze in my direction. "You kept it in your hands just long enough for me to notice the pattern. The issue with it."
"We all worked together," I said.
A hint of his old, confident smile played at the corners of his lips. It was subtle, barely touching his eyes, yet it was undeniably present. "Sure. I suppose it was."
As we headed back to the entrance, he stayed close, walking right beside us. The VOID remained within him, a piece of his being, yet it no longer overwhelmed him completely. A spark had pierced through—one of purpose, of being useful, of recalling what it was like to stand up for something, rather than just battling his pain.
Once we were back in the dorm and had signaled the others that it was safe, I noticed Yukari share a small, hopeful smile with Akihiko. He didn't smile in return, but he looked into her eyes and offered a brief, acknowledging nod.
It was the most he had accomplished in weeks.
As I sat with Mitsuru in the common room, she exhaled slowly. "He's returning."
"One step at a time," I said. "It's not going to be quick." I smile softly. "And he will never be the same again after this experience." Yet, he is working hard to find his way back."
She rested her head on my shoulder. "We all are."
The essence of our existence was being restored, not through the mere act of erasing the dark stains, but rather by carefully integrating them, unveiling the beauty that resides in the interplay of light and shadow.
A flame was set ablaze, flickering with life and warmth.
We found ourselves in a position where we needed to nurture it, holding onto the belief that it would be enough to guide us through the long, challenging nights that lay ahead.