It had been six days since Arsene had seen a hint of Ren's illusions and was beginning to wonder if he'd been imagining everything. The kaleidoscope light was a strange occurrence, certainly, but it was often cast across the entire town, and he doubted his master's illusions could stretch that far. The images of Leblanc had settled, vanishing with the remnants of Ren's free time. While he was busy training, drawing, performing for sweet Trae, or bargaining for spare textbooks, the ruined town remained just as it was.

The two incidents where Arsene wondered if something else was happening were quickly dismissed as his half-asleep mind playing tricks on him. He'd been tired the last few days, an effect of the coming full moon, not to mention the splitting headaches that plagued him. In addition, throwing an Eiha spell or spreading his wings in this world wasn't just impossible, the second would require him to be in his true form. That, Arsene thought sadly, would never happen again.

Arsene blinked away his exhaustion and did his best to focus on what his master was writing. The Persona had no idea what Ren was always writing about at sunset, having little knowledge of the characters. Words and sounds were easy to learn- though it wasn't his native language, Arsene could speak fluid Japanese, enough to impress Goemon, yet reading in Japanese was another matter entirely.

To his surprise, the words on the paper took form and registered in his mind.

Goro Akechi,

It has been 114 days to the minute. From the previous letters that go nowhere, you know I miss you, but I'll say it again. I miss you. We spent little time together before you disappeared, and I regret every second I wasted.

I remember so clearly that night in the engine room. You tried to kill me, and I thought you would. But we defeated you, and then I thought you would live. I was wrong both ways.

We should have both died. I was barely on my feet, and we'd done enough damage to you to kill the Reaper itself. But you still got up and laughed in Death's face, right before saving us all.

Well, except you.

I've always wondered what you were thinking as the metal door rolled shut. Were you still furious we'd lead you to this? Were you envious we'd defeated Shido? Did you only do it due to the remnants of your berserker power? Maybe it's because you valued our lives over yours. Maybe you weighed our lives, the Phantom Thieves and the Assassin's power, and decided we were stronger. I may be the Trickster, but you were such a fool to think that.

I knew who you were. I knew what you'd do. But I still loved you, even more so when you took off the Detective Prince mask. You were right after all. If only we'd met sooner. If only I could turn time back.

The Detective Prince you would probably tell me that it's kind of me to keep writing to an allegedly dead man. The person under that would tell me to shut up and do something useful.

I'll leave you in peace, then, which you would undoubtedly laugh at. I'll see you again.

Until then, love.

Ren

The words spilled out in his mind so naturally that at first, Arsene thought he'd finally figured out the complicated Japanese characters everyone insisted on writing in. Then, he noticed the accents and the different shapes to the words, which were no longer blocky, but flowing and soft.

When did you learn French? Arsene asked.

"Haru," his master replied simply. He sensed Ren's mood shift from his normal, agitated spikes to slow, calm waves. Arsene sometimes had to remind himself that this was the calm in the storm, and anything could set his master off again. He was far more volatile than before, and he wondered if this was the way Ren used to be before Arsene knew him.

"I learned from hearing you, too," Ren added. "When I first heard you, I mean. My Shadow spoke my language, but you spoke French, and I understood." He doodled a small emblem in the top left corner of the page, a delicate little heart filled with lines and circles and diamonds.

Out of the corner of his eyes, Arsene caught something moving. It didn't seem to be alive, no, but it was there nonetheless. It wasn't one of Ren's many papers, which were always scattered across the floor in laminated papers. Then he caught the smell of spice and coffee.

The illusion, again?

Ren stood and yawned, stretching his long limbs before falling backwards onto his bed and coiling up again. The scent abated, and Arsene was left wondering if it was his exhaustion, the full moon, or if the illusions were truly back.

As Ren closed his eyes, Arsene resolved to find out.

--

The instant Ren's consciousness shut down, Arsene sensed the room warp. Through Ren's closed eyes, he did his best to feel out what had changed. His master's senses were duller when he was asleep, but reliable enough to notice the change in both the air- less coppery, a bit heavier, tinged with coffee and the bizarre hint of salt- and the feel of the sheets. The matress felt softer.

Would he-

Arsene's breath caught as ice-cold metal suddenly pressed down on his wings and chest. He felt it wind around his throat like a snake, and he panicked, lunging to his feet and casting Maeiga as fast as he could. Black-red wisps exploded around him, and the chains went limp.

He... shouldn't have been able to cast, not in his master's world, and certainly not in an illusion. Arsene had a hand in destroying Yaldabaoth. He'd felt the Metaverse vanish, and his physical form with it. But, he thought, why could he feel his wings?

This couldn't be his master's body, not at all. The Maeiga could be excused, as both Ren and Arsene could cast at will, and their element occasionally followed them into Ren's world, leaving little sparking footprints behind. But his wings were his own.

Arsene opened his wings, examining the black feathers. Nothing seemed amiss, but his wings felt heavy, like someone was holding onto them.

Oh.

"Maeiga," Arsene whispered again, his power wisping around him and lighting up the spacious attic. A shiny black chain glistened by his feet, the ends looking sharply cut. Heavy manacles wrapped his wrists and ankles. Arsene was positively covered in the chains, and fear- the first time he'd felt such a thing- tearing through his chest. He'd been chained before, when Ren first summoned him. Even then, they were light chains, more symbolic of his master then useful. These were heavy, and already chafing his wings and wrists.

"Arsene?"

Arsene whipped around, an Eiha spell lighting up his right hand, his left closing around one of his chains. With his wrists cuffed, the motion forced him into an awkward spin rather than the dramatic one Ren was so fond of.

Sitting in front of him, legs crossed, was Zorro. He was chain-free and looked surprised. Perhaps he knew something about this illusion.

"Zorro." He gestured around Leblanc's attic. "How are you here?"

Behind the mask, Zorro raised an eyebrow. Arsene sighed and repeated the question in Spanish. Being in England for a time, he knew a passable amount of the language, although some of his oddly worded statements made the older Personas laugh. It wasn't like they were any better, he thought frustratedly, even if he was one of the younger Personas. Perhaps he knew something they didn't.

"Yeah." Zorro smirked and switched to Japanese. His vaguely blue shoulders gave a shrug. "My master can't hear me, but I can hear him. Morgana keeps trying to contact the Executioners, particularly Lady Lavenza. He thinks this place- the kaleidoscope thing, not Leblanc, mind- is the town's Palace. Morgana's sure the ash one is your master's Palace. I get that, but... you're his Persona, right?"

Arsene nodded. The question didn't merit an actual response.

"So this place can't be a Palace," Zorro mused, slipping back into his native tongue. "But my master thinks Jamestown is special, and I am inclined to agree. Although I'm sure I've heard the name somewhere before..."

Zorro could ramble for ages, like all the older Personas, although chronologically, Arsene was older. Unfortunately, they went by the order of being summoned, and Arsene had been the second oldest until his chains had been broken and he'd become someone entirely different. For now, even if he was back in chains, perhaps he could cheat his way out of it. He held out his arms. "Do you have a lockpick?"

"I find it hard to believe you don't have one on you."

Arsene did his best not to summon Maeigeon, but there was a definite flicker of red in the air. "I don't," he bit out. He was already imagining drowning Zorro, armor and all. Then he reminded himself that killing a teammate would not only be rude and unnecessary, it was something Akechi would do.

"I only have one. Which set?"

The ones on his wings would be a nuisance, but the giant manacles were set at the base and braced against his back, so they would hopefully be easiest to endure. His hands, though, was another issue. A good thief needed two functioning hands to properly steal. The ones around his ankles, Arsene decided, were the least troublesome.

"Hands."

The Persona made quick work of it, and a few seconds later, the heavy manacles thudded solidly against the wood floor. Arsene sighed in relief. That was much better. "Thank you."

He nodded again, a bit distracted. "Mona tried to leave the town, you know. There was a barrier across the road that he couldn't get through. He saw birds flying across it, though. And if I'm in this world, there's a good chance the others are in the city."

That was what Arsene would do, then. He'd fly to the city and find one of the Thieves, preferably Johanna, as the fastest. Or Carmen. Carmen seemed to always know where everyone was. "Good to know." He recalled the way Ren wrote in his letters that would never reach Goro, sad and longing. "By the way, be on the lookout for Goro Akechi."

Zorro blanched. "A-Akechi?" He did his best not to flinch as he sensed the sudden spike in Zorro's emotions. Surprise, and a bit of fear."Is he alive?"

"Unlikely," Arsene said, stretching the cramps out of his wings. The other Persona was right to be afraid. In fact, he'd have to be insane not to be scared. Goro Akechi was dangerous. "But if he is, you'll be able to tell by the eyes."

"One'll be yellow, I know," Zorro sighed, batting a feather out of his eyes in a distinctly catlike manner. "I'm older than you."

"If he appears on your radar, he's a Shadow."

"And if he's not?"

Arsene kept his smile to himself. "You're older than me, you figure it out."

Zorro rolled his eyes behind the mask. "I'm on it." He vanished an instant later, leaving behind a glowing Z. It hovered for a moment, then disappeared with its creator.

Finally. Zorro was rather talkative.

Arsene shoved the window open and perched on the fence. Time to fly again, he thought, a rare feeling of excitement stirring in his chest. After months, he could finally fly.

He exhaled slowly, then took off.

The start was rockier than expected, with the added weight- damn the chains- sending him dangerously close to the ground, but Arsene eventually leveled out just below the ash-grey clouds. He surveyed the ruined town.

As always, the faint kaleidoscope effect was there, but just barely. Overlapping the multicolored, reflecting light, was a smoking ruin of a town. He inhaled sharply and started coughing. It smelled of rotten flesh and dried human blood. Shadow Wolves prowled the streets below him, and the buildings were little more than charred scraps of wood. The only structure he could make out, the dreaded office, was gilded with something shiny. Arsene realized with a start that it was blood and felt a wave of revulsion. That was where the smell was coming from.

This certainly wasn't Ren's illusion. It had to be part of the town.

Suddenly, the ruins receded, overlapped with something new. Shibuya. The buildings shone in the full moon. Some areas, closer to the ground, stretched out. To the far left was an enormous forest and lake, likely some sort of park. North of the towering city glittered a school, and at the very center of the illusion was Yongen-Jaya.

It was a warped version of it, to be sure, but every place in this new illusion was somewhere Ren had been. This was Ren's illusion. There was no doubt about it.

Did Ren know?

No, he'd likely be revolted by the fact he was controlling something so near the level of a Palace. But how was Arsene going to tell him? A simple confrontation would make everything difficult, them being trapped in the same body and such, and Ren was good at dodging questions. Perhaps he'd ask the other Thieves about it when he arrived at Shibuya.

Arsene hovered, examining the layout as Jamestown churned, engulfing one illusion with another, then another, mingling and separating with shocking speed. He blinked his dizziness away, reminding himself firmly that he had something to do. Hypnotizing as it was, Arsene couldn't afford to wait around. Ren would notice if he was missing when he woke, and the moon was already halfway to its peak.

Without a second thought, he turned around and soared off.

-

It had been hours, he was sure of it, and Arsene was getting tired. Each wingbeat sent more pain through him, and the chains felt heavier and heavier as he flew farther and farther over the dark water. No matter what illusion, he'd seen, the space between Jamestown and Shibuya was filled with an ocean. It was like Futaba Sakura's Palace, a desert made to keep people out. Or, perhaps, keep them in. The only path, the road Akira took in the car, was covered in shining graffiti, which made him dizzy to look at.

Arsene's wingtip scraped the water, and he quickly pulled up, furious that he'd lost his focus. Waterlogged wings were useless to him, and he knew that if he set down anywhere, he wouldn't be able to take off again. Though he'd long since lost sight of Jamestown, and had no idea how close Shibuya was, the full moon was doing him few favors. Why, of all nights, did it have to be full moon for two days in a row?

Two nights?

Arsene indulged in several profanities before deciding he'd rather save the energy for flying. Naturally, the overlapping illusions had to stay at full moon. Life, it seemed, had a hobby of messing with him and his master.

The manacles around his wings bit sharply, and Arsene sensed liquid matting his feathers. Dammit, this was a bad decision. Beneath the mask, his eyelids felt heavy and unresponsive. Full moon. Why?

Of course, with no way to break the illusion, there was no point in complaining. Although, Arsene thought angrily, tilting his wings to catch another draft, it would certainly make him feel better about his current situation.

There was a flash of movement under the waves. Arsene knew he should keep going. The Thieves were more important, not to mention his own life. If he went down to the water, he'd risk a lot.

Arsene wrapped himself in his midnight wings and freefell towards the mirrored surface. A second before he would've hit, he spread them again and caught himself with a painful jolt. The Persona peered at the dark water. What had he seen? He was sure he'd seen a Shadow of sorts. His curiosity told him to find it, and while curiosity killed the cat, Arsene thought with a flicker of amusement, he was not Morgana. Even with his wings waterlogged, he could swim perfectly fine.

Then again, the chains would prove a problem.

There was a flash of movement to his right. Arsene banked sharply and summoned Maeiha. An enormous thing leaped out of the way, scaled tail nearly sending him into the ocean and giant teeth coming inches away from skewering him. Fins cut through the tide, headed straight for him, his dragging chains, and the delicate whirls of blue blood dripping from his wings.

Sharks.

Another one, this one over four times as big, its head dwarfing Arsene's entire body from wingtip to wingtip, leapt out of the water. Arsene felt a stab of fear in his chest and dove. Its teeth snapped the edge of a feather, and another one lunged. He cursed to himself, weaving through their attacks with as much precision as he could.

Megalodons.

Arsene threw his wings out, stalling in the air just before another prehistoric shark monster's tail slammed into his chest. He was thrown backwards, stunned enough that a wave hit him before he was in the air again. The second cost him, and suddenly he felt a tug on one of his wing's chains.

Oh, no.

Whatever the stupid things were made of, Arsene later decided, he wanted to see armor of the same kind, if only so he could steal it.

He barely had time to feel the jolt as the manacle damn near tore out his wing before he was dragged toward the water. Panic made him foolish, and he wasted a precious, agonizing moment before reacting with the strongest spell he had.

"Maeigaon!" he roared, bracing himself for impact.

An explosion of black and red washed over the sharks, and Arsene hissed as he felt the backlash. Suddenly the pressure in his wings loosened and the wave of giant, terrifying sharks fell back. He didn't bother waiting to see what happened, just shot off toward the clouds.

There-just there- it was some sort of building. He was almost there. He just had to hold out a few more minutes, and he'd be in Shibuya.

Arsene felt his right wing falter a second before it went limp. Pain slowed his reaction dangerously, enough so that his vision slipped twice and he barely caught himself. Awkwardly, he flapped a few feet before cursing himself.

"Alright..." Arsene glared at his hands. "You're going to make yourselves useful."

The hands, mercifully, didn't respond.

"Eiha."

A weak flicker of energy wisped around them. Not strong enough, not by any means, but Arsene already felt a dramatic drop in his energy.

Energy be damned, he was half the reason Satanael was able to appear! He wasn't going to let something so inconsequential as exhaustion stop him... was he?

His agonizing wingbeats said otherwise.

Arsene glared at the city inching towards him. "Eiga."

His hand blazed to life. Better. Arsene leaned forward more, like he was laying down, and put his hands behind him. He'd seen a few of Ren's Personas attempt this in their spare time, although only a few could actually take flight with only their power. But Arsene was stronger, and he would be until the end of his days.

Which, he remarked to himself as black darted across his vision, could very well be soon. It was getting difficult to see what was happening, how close the city was, and Arsene blinked a few times.

Wham.

Stunned by the impact, he- for the millionth time- freefell towards the ground, and this time, he couldn't catch himself. He saw the water below him, but also sand. He just had to hold on for a few more minutes-

"Arsene?"

His eyes snapped open. A few meters away, the humanoid Johanna gaped at him. Her short hair waved against her cheeks, and her plain, white clothes made her seem like a ghost. At that point, Arsene could care less if it was a ghost or demon that saw him, just as long as they could help. He frantically flapped his one good wing, doing little to slow his freefall. In fact, he swore he felt himself speed up.

"Help!" he yelled, panic making him switch to his native language. Johanna understood in an instant- right, before she was a Persona, she had been in England, too- and raced towards the water.

"Sharks!" Arsene warned, vision sputtering. The sand was getting very close.

"I know!" she called back, clasping her hands together. "Alright... Freila!"

The water exploded, the nuclear force throwing Arsene off his trajectory. He slammed into the ground hard enough to make a lesser Persona wish for death.

"Sorry," Johanna said from beside him. "I'm afraid I didn't make the explosion big enough."

Arsene groaned and lifted his head out of the sand. He spat sand out of his mouth and yelped at the sharp feeling in his wings. He clenched his teeth against another, less dignified sound and stood. His head spun, enough that Arsene thought he would fall again. Both wings were almost completely unresponsive.

But he was alive.

"How'd you..." Arsene mumbled through another mouthful of sand.

"Physics." Johanna offered a slight smile under her veil. "Theoretically, an equal push from the opposite force will make the net-"

Arsene shut his eyes. "Johanna. Please, put it simply." His head hurt enough without trying to puzzle out what she was talking about.

"I put the explosion right under where you'd land. I thought it might slow you down. It should've helped cancel out some of gravity's effects, but an explosion goes... well, everywhere.." She wrung her gloved hands. "I don't think it worked very well."

Arsene shrugged as best he could with his limp wings. "I'm alive. Thank you, by the way."

Johanna smiled. "You're welcome-oh!" She peered at Arsene's wings. When she lifted the edge of one, he saw that it was soaked through with blue. "I'll do my best to heal you." She focused for a moment, then sighed. "I'm not strong enough for a full heal. I'll just fix your wings, and- why are there chains?"

Arsene shrugged again and sighed as he felt cold spread through his wings. A few moments later, the feeling faded, and his wings settled at his side. They still ached and he could feel a cramp forming, but he could deal with that. "Thank you, Johanna," he said honestly.

She bowed gracefully. "Of course. Now, how did you get here?"

"I flew?"

"Around Jamestown's barrier? With all the illusions? I'm surprised you weren't killed."

He recalled the megalodons somewhere over the water. "The Shadows certainly tried," he muttered to himself. "Wait- barrier?"

"You haven't noticed?"

Arsene resisted the urge to hit her. It wasn't her fault her surprised voice sounded like she was looking down on him. Besides, initiating fights with females, he reminded himself, was rude. Initiating fights with males was perfectly fine. "Unfortunately, I know little about this. Care to tell me?"

She began pacing. Johanna seemed restless, more so than usual. "We think there's a new kind of Mementos coming from Jamestown. Notice the water and sand? That's the illusion. So far, the Thieves have been able to manifest here after our masters fall asleep, but we've been trying to protect Shibuya from it's influence, namely by creating a border."

The barrier he'd hit was one they'd made. How irritating, and somehow, perfectly believable. If the other Personas were doing their best to maintain it, that did explain why Johanna couldn't pull off a full heal.

"At any rate, I was sure there was a barrier around Jamestown, too. It might be generated to keep people away, we're not sure. The only thing we know is that it's difficult to set foot outside of the city." Johanna sighed. Golden light flickered between her fingers as her emotions rose. "So what's it like in Jamestown?"

He reported the unusual occurrences he'd found, from the obvious of being able to manifest to the three different illusions that took over the town.. "There are three in Jamestown," he said. "One of a twisted Shibuya, one of ruins, one of this strange light. And my master's been acting rather strange," he added. "He's quieter and volatile. I believe he may have something to do with at least one illusion. Zorro told me that his master seems to think that Jamestown's people generated their own illusions. Although it wouldn't explain why the illusions would've had a sudden boost..." He trailed off, lost in thought.

"We only know bits and pieces of it," she agreed. "As for our masters, they're all... different. More restless, I believe, and they act differently. " Her slight form stepped a little closer to him. "Come with? I'll get you to Carmen or one of the Personas who can pull off a better heal."

He shook his head and closed his eyes behind the mask. It would be helpful, but the moon was already past its peak. Ren woke at sunrise. He didn't have much time.

"Any message I should pass on?"

"If this gets worse, the Phantom Thieves need to get to Jamestown. All of them. Including our masters. And make sure they check their phones."

Johanna shook her head. "We can't contact them."

So Zorro wasn't the only one. "Then break the barrier."

She blinked at that. Breaking the barrier would potentially merge a version of a Metaverse and Shibuya again, and Morgana had made it clear those types of worlds were unstable. Nevertheless, she nodded and accepted the idea. Arsene already sensed Johanna calculating if or when they'd need to do that, but at least she didn't dismiss him. She was younger than him, but one of the only Personas who treated everyone equally despite their age.

"It may come to that. For now, I'll do my best to lead Makoto to the beach. Thank you for coming all the way here." Johanna stepped behind him and ran a finger against the chains. Arsene sensed her emotions spike. She spoke quieter, a sure sign of Johanna's fury. "Will you be alright on your way back?"

"I'll live." Most likely. He glanced up and cursed to himself. The moon was past its peak already, and he hadn't even started going back. Ren would almost certainly notice.

In a flash, Johanna was a gleaming blue motorcycle. Her masked face on the front somehow turned and smiled eerily at him. "I'll tell the others. Please be safe on your way back."

"Me?" he said innocently, raising a black-clawed hand to his chest in mock offense. His devil's mask winked in the full moon. "Never."

He heard Johanna laughing as he flew away.

---

Aight, I'm done! I was up at three writing the first draft, which I didn't change too much. Is it strange that at 3 am I can focus well?

Anyways, word counts about 4200 (lol)

YOOOOOOO OVER 100 READS YOU GUYS ARE GREAT!!!

THank you so much for reading!!! Feel free to drop a comment or advice on any improvements I can make! (i'm going back and checking grammer but any messed-up grammer's fine.)

Also, I honestly want to know: does anyone get teh significance of the town's name? (Don't google it, cheaters)

Again, you guys are great for even continuing to read this!!! 100 views is so much, especially for around 5 chapters!!!

Robin out!