Hello everyone. You may be wondering what is Ascend from Darkness? The name seems quite familiar to all of you OG readers. For those who have been reading my stories for a long time, you'll know that I made a prequel by the same name. But after a few chapters, I kinda canceled it. But I wanted to get back into it, so I decided to bring it back from the dead and reboot it from the ground up. Let's get into it!

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(Azazel's POV)

This story unfolds six months before my transfer to Hope's Peak High, amidst the vibrant chaos of Inkopolis. Below us, the grandest and most opulent casino in the city buzzed with energy, as patrons poured their fortunes into the hands of chance. I found myself perched precariously atop a sparkling chandelier, leaping gracefully from one shimmering light fixture to another. Dressed in a maroon coat that flared out as I moved, and a sleek black bodysuit that hugged my form, I looked every bit the part of a mysterious infiltrator. My hands were clad in matching black gloves, and my feet wore sturdy boots, all complemented by a mask obscuring my face, enhancing my air of secrecy.

By my side was my ally, a cunning figure known only as Joker. His striking ensemble consisted of a black ankle-length tailcoat that flowed dramatically with his movements, paired with a high-necked dark gray waistcoat embellished with gold buttons that gleamed under the casino lights. He wore cinched black pants and brown-black winklepickers boots that featured tall heels, giving him an imposing height. His bright red gloves contrasted sharply with his pale skin, while a white domino mask adorned his face, artfully decorated with black designs around his eyes that evoked the allure of full eyeliner and sharply defined lashes. 

Suddenly, a gambler, with shock evident on their face, glanced up at the chandelier where we stood. 

Gambler: Hey! Up there! It's the Phantom Lions!

Instantly, several men in black suits, their faces hidden behind shaded glasses, locked onto our position. 

Agent: They're here. Move in immediately.

This forced Joker and I to leap towards another chandelier to evade their grasp.

Joker: This is Joker. Draco and I got the treasure.

Joker communicated through the tiny comms device nestled in his ear while I clutched a sleek briefcase tucked close to my side.

???: {Good. Now get running!}

???: {We'll retrieve the briefcase on our end.}

Joker and I exchanged a determined glance before we both nodded, our hearts pounding in sync as we vaulted from one chandelier to the next, our movements a well-practiced dance of agility and stealth.

???: {But I have to say, showing yourselves above that crowd earlier was an excellent move. Nice work as always, Joker. Same to you, Draco.}

???: {I bet Jackal wouldn't pull it off that smoothly.}

???: {This happens because you have no sense for aesthetics.}

???: {Nobody asked you, Eagle!}

The chaotic chatter of our team buzzed in my ear as we deftly navigated through the glimmering chandeliers and the cacophony of the casino below, adrenaline surging through our veins as we prepared to escape with our prize.

Reaching a nearby air duct, Joker and I swiftly removed the bars, shoved the briefcase inside, and ensured our comrades could retrieve it later. 

Azazel: We need to move, now.

Joker and I made a beeline for a beautifully crafted stained glass window, its colors shimmering in the dim light.

Suddenly, an agent spotted us, his eyes wide in shock but was concealed by the shades. 

Agent: There they are!

The agents barreled toward us. We exchanged glances, determination etched on our faces.

Joker: See ya!

Together, we leaped through the stained glass window, executing a graceful jump that showcased our agility and finesse, a final flourish in our escape.

???: {They're always so cool.}

???: {You two are so reckless. You know that?}

As we landed safely on the ground, we believed the worst was behind us. Our hubris was short-lived. A blinding array of spotlights sliced through the dark, illuminating us with an unforgiving glare. Turns out the cops were waiting for us.

???: {An ambush!?}

???: {Joker! Draco! Can you handle this!?}

Officier: Capture them!

Several cops advanced toward the Joker and me, riot shields held high in a display of force. The urgency in their movements sent a surge of adrenaline through me, pushing both of us into action. 

Azazel: Joker, go! I'll lead them away!

Joker nodded, a flicker of determination crossing his face, before darting off in a different direction, weaving through the throngs of people in a desperate bid to escape. 

Officer: Get him!

A handful of cops broke away from me, relentlessly pursuing Joker. My hearts raced as I realized I needed to create a distraction, a desperate plan to keep the heat off my friend.

With no time to waste, I spotted a ladder leading up to a nearby platform. I made a split-second decision, my instincts kicking in as I sprinted toward it. I leaped onto the bottom rung, adrenaline propelling me upward as I climbed swiftly, each rung taking me further from the chaos below. I reached the top, breathless from the exertion, only to be greeted by an unwelcome sight.

Waiting for me at the platform's edge were several SWAT officers--guns aimed directly at me, their expressions grim and resolute. Panic shot through me at that moment.

Azazel: Oh crap!

Before I could react, a SWAT officer hit me with the butt of his rifle, then everything went black.

================================

A bucket of water waked me up, and I found myself tied up to a chair via eelwire to prevent me from shapeshifting to my squid form. Multiple cuts and bruises were all over my body. It was not uncommon for guards in the Inkadian legal system to torture suspects during interrogation. 

Interrogator: Guess the drug was too strong.

I looked around and found myself in a dark room lit only by a dim flashlight hanging from the ceiling. I saw a CCTV camera looking directly at me before turning to the interrogator. 

Interrogator: No dozing off!

The interrogator kicked me in the stomach, knocking me onto the ground and breaking the chair.

While on the floor, I looked to see that there were four empty syringes. Guess they must've drugged me to try and force a confession out of me. Suddenly, the interrogator placed his foot on my head and kept me pinned. 

Interrogator: Come on, cooperate! Or what, you want another shot?

I looked at the CCTV, and the interrogator seemed to notice. 

Interrogator: What about the camera? Are you thinking it could be used as video evidence?

The interrogator grabbed me by my school uniform and lifted me to look him dead in the eyes.

Azazel: Of course not...

Interrogator: So you're not that stupid.

The interrogator strode purposefully across the dimly lit room, the sound of his heavy footsteps echoing off the cold concrete walls. He approached another figure seated at a metal table, snatching a clipboard from the surface with a flick of his wrist. As he flipped through the pages, the fluorescent light above flickered ominously, casting harsh shadows on his stern face.

He began to read aloud, eyes scanning the list of charges with evident pleasure. 

Interrogator: Obstruction of justice, blackmail, defamation, possession of weapons... Manslaughter too, yeah? Talk about the works. And to think all these crimes were led by a punk like you

The interrogator approached me with a measured, deliberate pace, his expression a mask of calm authority that belied the tension in the air. With a swift, practiced motion, he removed the eelwire and handed me a clipboard that felt cold and foreign in my hands.

Interrogator: Sign here. It's a confession under your name.

I remained silent, my hearts racing as I processed the gravity of the situation.

Interrogator: Giving me the silent treatment? Speak up, you little shit. If you don't, your friends will suffer instead. And I don't care if I have to remove your ink sac.

I could feel the weight of his words hanging over me, each syllable echoing a threat that ignited a fierce internal struggle. I couldn't bear the thought of my friends enduring pain because of my silence.

With a deep breath, I steeled myself against the inevitable.

Azazel: Azazel...

As I felt the eyes of the men in the room bore into me, their intensity almost suffocating, I continued. 

Azazel: Azazel Frederick Lionheart...

The full weight of my identity hung in the air, a declaration of my existence in a moment that felt like it would swallow me whole.

The interrogator, unmoved by my confession, handed me the pen and looked me dead in the eyes.

Interrogator: Don't expect to walk out of here in one piece. One must take full responsibility for their actions... Even royals like you.

Trapped with no viable alternatives, I picked up the pen with trembling fingers, my resolve crumbling under pressure. As I penned my name in the elegant, flowing strokes of the Inkling script onto the confession, a sense of dread washed over me.

Outside the dimly lit interrogation room, an Inkling woman approached the door with purposeful strides. Her name was Sadayo Niijima, a determined prosecutor known for her relentless pursuit of justice.

With every step, there was an eagerness in her demeanor--an urgency born from the gravity of the situation she was about to face. However, before she could reach the threshold, a police detective intercepted her, blocking her path with an air of authority.

Police Detective: Excuse me, but this area's off-limits.

Sadayo: I'm Sadayo Niijima from the Public Prosecutors Office.

The detective raised an eyebrow, skepticism etched across his features.

Police Detective: The Prosecutors Office? What business do you have here?

Sadayo: Just let me through; it's urgent. There's something I need to confirm with the suspect.

Police Detective: Niijima-san, I believe this case is no longer in your jurisdiction. Besides...

The detective's words trailed off as an older detective approached them, an air of authority surrounding him.

Older Detective: Are you Prosecutor Sadayo Niijima? There's a call from your director. Hurry and get it over with. To be frank, you're being an inconvenience.

With a frustrated sigh, Sadayo took out her phone, her fingers trembling slightly as she answered the call from her director.

Director: {*sigh* I thought I ordered you to stand by.}

Sadayo: I'm responsible for this case, yet I'm not even being allowed an interrogation!?

Sadayo's frustration was evident as she clutched her phone tightly.

Director: {I'm calling because I knew you'd bring it up.}

Sadayo: I will not be convinced until I confirm it for myself. This is MY case.

The director sighed heavily, the sound resonating through the phone.

Director: {Good luck to you then. I won't be expecting much though...}

The call was abruptly terminated with a sharp click.

Older Detective: Uh, Prosecutor. I forgot to mention something important. Your time will be cut short. We can't permit you to talk with him for long.

The older detective was clearly unsympathetic to her plight. Sadayo let out a long, resigned sigh in response. 

Older Detective: It's for your own sake. His methods are unknown. After all, we don't even know if it's safe to simply meet and speak with him.

Sadayo: ...I understand.

With that, she stepped into the interrogation room, her hearts racing as she sat down at the cold, metal table that separated us. 

I looked up at her, my vision still blurry from the previous interrogations and the drugs coursing through my system.

Sadayo: I didn't expect it'd be you of all people. *Her expression was a mix of surprise and concern.*

Azazel: Where are the others...? *My throat was dry and my voice was strained*

Sadayo: They weren't caught. You were the only one who's been apprehended. Anyway, you'll be answering my questions this time.

Pain shot through my head, and I grimaced as I weakly pressed my hands against my temple to alleviate some of the pressure. Sadayo's gaze fell to the floor, landing on the discarded syringes that had been left behind by the interrogators. A look of disgust crossed her face. 

Sadayo: Those bastards...

Sadayo returned her attention to me. 

Sadayo: Can you hear me? It seems you've been through a lot. Almost anything can happen here...and I can't stop them.

I let out a shaky breath, grappling with the heaviness of the moment.

Sadayo: That's why I need you to answer me honestly. I don't have much time either. What was your objective? Why did you cause such a major incident? I didn't think it was a prank from the get-go, but I couldn't assemble a case for prosecution. It's because I couldn't figure out the method behind it.

Azazel: Why do you wanna know...? *My voice was almost like a whisper, laden with fatigue*

Sadayo: This isn't an issue of whether or not it can be used in court. I need to know. This is my case, after all. When and where did you find out about the Darkling activities in Inkadia? How is it even possible to steal another's heart? Now, tell me your account of everything. Start from the very beginning.

I swallowed hard, feeling the weight of her gaze.

Azazel: I'll talk... It happened 6 months ago, when I was enrolled to Hope's Peak High...

================================

6 months prior

April 10th, 2013 ME

It was a typical day in Little Highlyon, a quaint neighborhood in Inkopolis known for being a bustling hub for Highlings. My mother, my sister, and I had settled into our cozy little house there. Just yesterday, I received an extraordinary invitation that sent my hearts racing: I had been accepted to Hope's Peak High School. This prestigious institution had a reputation for finding and nurturing exceptional talent. It didn't rely on conventional entrance exams like other schools; instead, it scoured the land for those who were truly remarkable in their fields.

As I stood in front of the mirror adjusting the tie on my brand-new school uniform, a sense of confusion washed over me.

Azazel: Man, Hope's Peak really is a big deal. But... I don't even know what my talent is.

My mother, Minerva, who was bustling around the kitchen preparing breakfast, overheard me. She turned and offered a comforting smile. 

Minerva: It'll be fine, sweetie. I'm sure you'll discover your talent in due time.

Azazel: I hope so.

I grabbed my backpack and headed toward the door. Just before stepping outside, I caught a glimpse of my little sister, Alice, happily waving goodbye from the living room. Her cheerful spirit always managed to lift my mood. 

Alice: See you soon, big brother!

I couldn't help but smile at her adorable enthusiasm.

Azazel: I'll see you all soon.

I stepped out into the crisp morning air. As I made my way to the subway station, a mix of excitement and anxiety churned in my stomach.

After what felt like an eternity of navigating the winding underground tunnels, the subway finally screeched to a halt at the station that was just a short walk from Hope's Peak High School. The sky above was a gloomy grey, punctuated by the relentless drizzle that poured down, soaking everything in its path. I cursed myself for forgetting to grab my umbrella before leaving the house this morning. 

As I stepped off the train and onto the platform, I noticed a striking girl making her way to the station. With her long, flowing hair and bright smile, she exuded an effortless beauty that caught my eye immediately. I recognized her as a fellow student from Hope's Peak, and I felt a flutter of curiosity wash over me as I watched her.

Just as I was lost in thoughts about her, she turned around and our eyes met. A brief moment of surprise crossed her face, and she walked closer to me, her movements graceful even in the rain. She lifted her hand and playfully brushed something from my hair. 

Girl: Here.

Sshe plucked a delicate petal from a nearby cherry blossom tree that had landed in my hair. 

Girl: I hate the rain. It scatters the pretty cherry blossoms everywhere.

As she stood there at the station, my attention shifted to another figure approaching the station. This one was a boy with an eccentric hairstyle--his tentacles styled into a bowl cut that framed his face, and a pair of glasses perched precariously on his nose. He had an air of curiosity about him, and I couldn't help but wonder what his unique talent was and whether it matched his quirky appearance.

Just then, a sleek car pulled up beside the pavement, the window rolling down to reveal a muscular man inside. He looked friendly enough, with a warm smile that seemed to cut through the dreary atmosphere. By the looks of it, he worked at Hope's Peak High. Yeah, I've seen him in the pictures. He's the gym teacher, Tobias Kamoshida.

Tobias: Good morning. You want me to give you a ride to school? You're gonna be late.

Girl: Um, sure. Thank you.

The girl climbed into the vehicle. Tobias then turned his attention to me and the other boy, his gaze curious.

Tobias: Do you two need a lift?

Frizzy-Haired Boy: Ah, no...

Azazel: No thank you.

As the window rolled up and the car drove off, the moment felt strangely surreal. Just then, a vulgar boy from our school, his existence marked by an air of bravado, came sprinting down the street. He abruptly halted, frustration flaring as he saw the car disappear into the distance.

Vulgar Boy: Dammit... Fuck that pervy teacher.

Azazel: Pervy teacher?

At that moment, the vulgar boy turned his attention toward me and the frizzy-haired boy beside me, his gaze sharp and challenging. 

Vulgar Boy: What do you want? You two plannin' on rattin' me out to Kamoshida?

Frizzy-Haired Boy: Kamoshida?

This unexpected response caught the vulgar boy off guard, and for a brief moment, his demeanor shifted.

Vulgar Boy: Huh? In that car just now, it was Kamoshida.

Azazel: You mean the gym teacher, yeah? I've seen him in online photos about the school.

Vulgar Boy: He does whatever the hell he wants. Who do you think he is--the king of a castle? Don't you agree?

Frizzy-Haired Boy: King of a castle?

Vulgar Boy: No, I mean...

A realization washed over him as he looked back at us, his expression shifting to one of incredulity. 

Vulgar Boy: Wait, you two don't know Kamoshida? Are you for real?

Azazel: Yeah, exactly. I just got the invitation to Hope's Peak yesterday.

The brash boy's eyes widened as he processed my words.

Vulgar Boy: Then no wonder you don't know him.

Glancing at our school uniforms, the vulgar boy noticed the buttons emblazoned with the number 2. 

Vulgar Boy: Huh. Second-years. We're in the same grade then.

Azazel: Wait a minute... I'm a second-year student? Again??

I suddenly realized, feeling a wave of confusion wash over me as I let out a long, exasperated sigh, grappling with the implications of repeating a grade.

Vulgar Boy: This rain ain't too bad. We better hurry up or we're late.

As we made our way towards Hope's Peak High, an overwhelming sensation of light-headedness washed over us, making the world seem a little less stable. 

Vulgar Boy: Uuugh, my head hurts... Dammit... I wanna go home...

================================

The scene shifts back to me in the dimly lit interrogation room, the dimly lit lightbulb casting a stark glow on the cold metal table in front of me. As I wait, memories flood my mind, taking me six months back to a day that changed everything.

Sadayo: There was a terrible subway accident that day. You remember it, don't you? I assume you know of the uproar that the public calls the "psychotic breakdown incidents."

I nodded slowly, the images from that day rushing back--chaotic scenes splashed across news screens, frantic voices, and the faces of the victims.

Azazel: Yeah. I remember them. It was all over the news, and one of the victims was a teacher from Hope's Peak.

Sadayo: On that day...were you still an "ordinary" student?

Azazel: I...don't know...

My chest tightening as the weight of those memories threatened to suffocate me.

Sadayo: Let me change the question. You were invited to Hope's Peak Academy, correct?

That question hung in the air for a moment, and I replied with a hesitant nod. 

Sadayo: A government-sanctioned high school that scouts for the most gifted students from all over the world. That's what it should've been. What happened around that time? Tell me everything--truthfully.

Azazel: Well...

================================

As the boy with frizzy hair trod alongside the vulgar, somewhat crude boy, I found myself caught between confusion and curiosity as we made our way toward Hope's Peak High. However, without warning, the world around us shifted dramatically, plunging us into an entirely different realm. 

Vulgar Boy: What the...!?

His eyes going wide with disbelief. Before us loomed a colossal castle, its towering spires stretching high into a surreal sky painted in shades of crimson and violet.

Azazel: Hey, where'd the school go?

Frizzy-Haired Boy: Don't ask me.

Vulgar Boy: We didn't...come the wrong way though...

The vulgar boy spun around, glancing behind him. 

Vulgar Boy: Yeah, this should be right...

Azazel: What the hell is going on here?

My mind was racing to make sense of our peculiar predicament. The vulgar boy crossed his arms defiantly, a hint of excitement creeping into his tone. 

Vulgar Boy: I guess we'll have to go in and ask.

The vulgar boy had nodded toward the grand entrance of the castle, where ornate gates swung open as if beckoning us inside. With a mix of trepidation and intrigue, we stepped forward, ready to face whatever awaited us within those massive stone walls.

As we stepped through the towering, ornate entrance of the castle, an unsettling feeling washed over us. It dawned on me that we had somehow ended up in Hope's Peak High--but not in the way we had expected. The atmosphere felt different, almost surreal, and I could sense that we had crossed into another dimension. 

Vulgar Boy: Th-That's weird... Where's the school...?

The vulgar boy was looking around with a mix of bewilderment and annoyance. His eyes darted from the intricately designed archways to the bizarre, flickering sconces that lined the walls.

Azazel: Did we make a wrong turn?

Vulgar Boy: N-No! This has to be it! I mean, it...should be...

He pulled out his phone, tapping at the screen desperately, only to groan when he saw the "No Service" message flashing back at him.

Vulgar Boy: Out of service? Where'd we end up...? The sign was for the school, right?

Frizzy-Haired Boy: Yeah. What's going on here?

The frizzy-haired boy was peering around as if expecting something--or someone--to emerge from the shadows. 

Vulgar Boy: I-I dunno! I wanna know!

At that moment, the sound of metal clanking echoed through the hall, causing us to whip around and see an armored knight striding toward us, a shield in one hand and a sword in the other. 

Vulgar Boy: Geez, you freaked me out... Who're you? You a student?

The vulgar boy stepped closer to the knight, a nervous grin plastered on his face.

Vulgar Boy: Man, your costume's impressive... Is that armor real?

He waited for a reply, but the knight remained silent, his helmet concealing any expression.

Vulgar Boy: C'mon, don't just stand there. Say somethin'.

Azazel: Something's weird is going on here.

Suddenly, another knight approached from behind, and this sight sent the vulgar boy into a panic.

Vulgar Boy: H-Hey, what's goin' on?

Frizzy-Haired Boy: This must be a prank.

Vulgar Boy: Do you really think so...?

The vulgar boy's gaze widening as he noticed yet another knight moving toward him.

Vulgar Boy: This shit's real.

Azazel: Let's get out of here!

We turned to bolt back toward the entrance. But our escape was thwarted as two more knights emerged, effectively blocking our path. 

The vulgar boy defiantly stepped forward--only to receive a sharp blow from one of the knight's shields.

Frizzy-Haired Boy: Hey!

Panic gripped us as we found ourselves completely surrounded by the imposing figures in armor.

================================

Minutes later, we regained consciousness, disoriented and aching, only to realize we were trapped in a dark, dank dungeon. The smell of damp stone filled the air, and the sound of dripping water echoed ominously.

Vulgar Boy: You all right? *He stared at the rough stone walls confining us*

Azazel: Yeah. I'm fine.

Frizzy-Haired Boy: What about you?

Vulgar Boy: Yeah, more or less. Looks like this ain't no dream... Ugh, what's goin' on!?

The vulgar boy rushed to the heavy iron cell door and slammed his fists against it.

Vulgar Boy: Hey, let us outta here! I know there's someone out there!

His voice echoed in the emptiness, but only met with silence. Defeated, he strolled back to us, frustration spilling over. 

Vulgar Boy: Dammit, where are we!? Is this some kinda TV set...?

As we huddled together in the dimly lit confines of our cell, an unsettling atmosphere enveloped us, thick with dread. The chilling sounds of a man's anguished screams echoed through the stone corridors, each piercing cry making our skin crawl.

Vulgar Boy: Th-The hell was that just now...?

The vulgar boy's voice quivered as we strained to peer outside the narrow bars of our cell. The cries began to subside, the haunting echoes fading into a heavy silence. 

Vulgar Boy: Whoa... Whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa... You're shittin' me, right...?

His eyes widened with disbelief, as if trying to reconcile the horror with the reality we were trapped in. 

Azazel: That is just so messed up, dude.

My own voice was barely above a whisper as the weight of our situation bore down on us.

???: Silence!

The sudden command pierced the air as a familiar figure approached through the dimly lit dungeon. It was none other than the gym teacher of Hope's Peak High, Tobias Kamoshida--though he looked anything but authoritative in that moment. Adorning a ludicrous gold crown atop his head, he sported a flamboyant red cape embellished with oversized heart prints, all while wearing nothing but pink underwear that left little to the imagination. A mixture of disbelief and confusion washed over me. First, we found ourselves in this bizarre alternate dimension, and now here was Tobias, dressed in a way that felt like something out of a surreal nightmare or a misguided carnival. How did we end up in a scenario like this? The strangeness of our situation escalated by the second.

Tobias...?: No one's allowed to do as they please in my castle.

Tobias' voice was infused with a demonic undertone that dripped with authority.

Vulgar Boy: Huh? Wait... Is that you, Kamoshida?

Tobias...?: I thought it was some petty thief, but to think it'd be you, Greymane... Are you trying to disobey me again? It looks like you haven't learned your lesson at all, huh?

Tobias looked at me and the frizzy-haired boy.

Tobias...?: And you brought friends this time...because you can't do anything for yourself.

Greymane: This ain't funny, you asshole!

Tobias arched an eyebrow, the fire of offense lighting his icy gaze.

Tobias...?: Is that how you speak to a king? It seems you don't understand the position you're in at all. Not only did you sneak into my castle, you've committed the crime of insulting me--the king. The punishment for that is death.

He waved his hand and had the guards open the cell.

Tobias...?: It's time for an execution! Take him out!

As Greymane assessed the perilous situation, a mix of fear and defiance flickered in his eyes. He took a few cautious steps backward, trying to distance himself from the looming knights clad in glinting armor. 

Greymane: S-Stop it...!

Without warning, one of the knights, with a grim expression, stepped forward and delivered a brutal punch to Greymane's stomach. The impact knocked the wind out of him, causing him to crumple to the ground, gasping for breath. 

Azazel: Hey!

I tried to comprehend what was happening. However, before I could react, another knight swung his shield toward us, the heavy metal colliding with both me and the frizzy-haired boy. We were violently thrust against the cold, unyielding wall behind us, the air knocked from our lungs. 

Greymane: Just go! Get outta here...! These guys are serious!

Tobias...?: Oh? Running away, are we? What heartless friends you are.

Greymane: They ain't friends... C'mon, hurry and go!

Tobias...?: What's the matter? Too scared to run away? Hmph, pathetic scum isn't worth my time...

Tobias turned back to Greymane.

Tobias: I'll focus on this one's execution...

Greymane was held to a wall by a knight as Tobias looked at him. 

Tobias...?: Take this!

He started by repeatedly backhanding Greymane across the face.

Tobias...?: Lowly scum!

He then continued it with punches repeatedly towards Greymane's body.

Tobias...?: Useless pest!

He delivered a double-axe handle onto Greymane, knocking him onto the ground.

Tobias...?: Hmph. Where'd your energy from earlier go? A peasant like you isn't worth beating. I'll have you killed right now.

Azazel: Stop it!

Tobias turned to look at me and the frizzy-haired boy. 

Tobias...?: What...? Don't you dare tell me you don't know who I am.

He walked towards both me and the frizzy-haired boy.

Tobias...?: That look in your eyes irritates me!

We were both kicked by Tobias and knocked to the wall.

Tobias...?: Hold them there... After this peasant, it's their turn to die

The knights held us in place as they were forcing us to watch Greymane about to be killed.

In that pivotal moment, a voice pierced through the tense silence, calling out to the frizzy-haired boy. It was an urgent, almost accusatory tone that resonated in the air. 

???: What the matter...? Are you simply going to watch? Are you forsaking him to save yourself? Death awaits him if you do nothing. Was your previous decision a mistake then?

The frizzy-haired boy, heart pounding, felt the weight of those words crashing down upon him. His brows furrowed as he fought against the tide of doubt swelling within him.

Frizzy-Haired Boy: I wasn't wrong...

???: Very well... I have heeded your resolve.

Suddenly, the frizzy-haired boy yelled out as he felt pain throughout his body. A power was awakening within him.

???: Vow to me. I am thou, thou art I... Thou who art willing to perform all sacrilegious acts to thine own justice! Call upon my name, and release thy rage! Show the strength of thy will to ascertain all in thine own, though thou be chained to Hell itself!

Tobias...?: Execute him!

Frizzy-Haired Boy: That's enough!

Tobias turned to look at the frizzy-haired boy.

Tobias...?: What was that...? You desire to be killed that much...? Fine!

A knight swung his shield with force, crashing it against the frizzy-haired boy's face. The frizzy-haired boy's black-rimmed glasses were sent flying through the air, clattering to the ground and skidding away. With the boy now dazed, a group of other knights advanced, their fierce expressions unmistakable as they brandished their spears, pinning him against the cold, rough stone wall.

Just as the knight wielding a gleaming sword stepped forward, ready to deliver a fatal blow, the boy's eyes flickered open. In that moment, a magnificent and formidable aura erupted from him, a radiant energy that swept through the air like a sudden tempest. The knights staggered back, their armored bodies colliding into one another as they struggled to maintain their footing against the incredible force.

Amid this chaos, the boy's features transformed dramatically. The rebel's spirit burned brightly in him, as shown by the striking white domino mask that hugged his face perfectly, the fabric glinting subtly in the torchlight. The mask was adorned with intricate black designs that curled and swirled around his eyes, accentuating their intensity and giving off an aura of mystery. The clever patterns evoked the allure of theatrical makeup--full eyeliner framing his eyes and sharply defined lashes--making him appear both fierce and enigmatic.

The frizzy-haired boy grasped the edge of the intricate mask that had clung to his face. With a determined yank, he pulled it away, the motion forcing him to stumble slightly as if breaking free from an unseen bond. As the mask slipped off, he looked up, his face covered in blood and his eyes had transformed into a striking shade of yellow, radiating an almost otherworldly glow. 

Frizzy-Haired Boy: Come, Arsène!

In an instant, his entire form ignited in brilliant blue flames that danced around him like a living aura. The flames wrapped around his body, transforming his appearance with a dramatic flair. His school uniform metamorphosed into a stunning ensemble: a sweeping black tailcoat that brushed against his ankles, the dark fabric shimmering with an ethereal sheen. Beneath it, a high-necked waistcoat in a deep gray, adorned with intricate gold buttons, clung to his torso, defining his silhouette. The transition continued down to his legs, where cinched black pants hugged his frame, seamlessly leading down to a pair of striking brown-black winklepickers boots, their tall heels giving him an imposing stature. The final touch was the vivid red gloves that adorned his hands, contrasting boldly with the rest of his attire.

Behind him loomed an imposing figure, a specter of elegance and menace. This was Arsène--an entity known as a Persona, the embodiment of one's rebellious spirit.

He towered with an air of authority, his head crowned with a very tall top hat that accentuated his slender form. His face was obscured by a long-horned mask, its surface intricate and hauntingly beautiful. The ensemble he wore was reminiscent of an eighteenth-century nobleman, featuring a cropped red jacket cut to perfection, flared open to expose a white ruffle tie that cascaded gracefully down his chest. The shoulders of his jacket were adorned with stitched heart designs, hinting at an enigmatic origin.

Arsène's torso was encased in a black, tailed corset that emphasized his narrow waist, leading to large, black feathery wings that erupted majestically from the small of his back, their edges shimmering as they caught the dim light. Claws extended from his fingers, sharp and formidable, giving him an unsettling allure. His legs were sheathed in red coverings that resembled both pants and boots, featuring blade-like heels that added an edge to his menacing presence. 

The shockwave from Arsène's dramatic summoning rippled through the air, powerful enough to send the nearby knights and Tobias crashing to the ground, their armor clattering noisily against the stone floor.

Greymane: Wha... What the...?

Azazel: What is this?

The frizzy-haired boy had a wicked smile on his face as he now went by a new name--Joker.

Outro:

https://youtu.be/F4DXogJ7qpM

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Hey everyone, hope you guys enjoyed this revamped Ascend from Darkness. Yes, you will see a lot of inspiration from Persona 5 as I have recently fallen in love with it. If you enjoyed this chapter, leave a vote and a comment, and please share this with your friends on Wattpad.

Chapter 2 will be coming out soon. As always, I'm RaveDoggTV, and I'll see you in the next chapter. Peace out!

Uploaded on: January 13th, 2025