Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Hatred.

Nothing else existed in the Mind of Yaldabaoth but that feeling as he drifted through empty space at the edge of creation. Nothing else was in his recently hollowed head but his wrath and the arrogant vermin that inspired it.

Absolute, unyielding hatred.

Endless malice and a craving for vengeance. A dark yearning to crush the life from the damned maggots that caused this.

How dare they!? How dare those worthless specks act as if they have the right to strike him down!? They were nothing, they are nothing. It was only a few hours ago that they were all begging at his feet for him to save them. To rip away their empty wills and give them the vapid, stagnant world they deserved.

But those goddamned thieves had taken it. All of it. Even after he repelled them from his holy domain and banished them from reality itself. The roaches still crawled back out of the cracks and came at him over and over again. Until the public had been pulled from their apathy, until they supported them, until they cried out their wish to see the thieves free them.

And until their will was made manifest by the heart of a rebel, and destroyed him.

And at last, the thoughts of his dying mind turned once again to him. The source of his rage, his greatest mistake, and the cause of his plight.

The Trickster.

That arrogant prince of rats. That conniving heretic. That foolish destroyer of his great kingdom.

There were a thousand insults in his mind for the insect that had pierced his head. But none of them could coherently form for more than a moment, drowned out by the tidal wave of raw fury every time Yaldabaoth imagined his face. Every time he imagined the galling expression of smug victory on his features as the colossal demon he conjured from the depths of his sinful soul easily deflected his powers and tore into his body.

Yaldabaoth never considered humans to be worth anything; they weren’t even worth anger for their indiscretions against him. Before today, they were far too pathetic to be anything but pitied. But now, disgust and pity had become anger. And he wanted nothing else in this world than to see them suffer for their actions, and to see that boy broken down to his soul. To rip every last thing from him before tearing him limb from limb.

But none of that mattered. He lost, and his drifting body was little more than a dying husk. He’d used what strength was left in him to flee as far as he could manage. Leaving him too drained and damaged to move another inch. And with his connection to mementos blocked by the trickster as well, there was no energy he could draw from to change that.

This empty vacuum was where he would die, and after that, even he did not know. But it did not matter; if it wasn’t his vengeance, he wouldn’t have wanted it regardless. The purpose for which he formed was denied him, and the people over whom he was meant to govern had rejected him. There was nothing left for him in this world but hatred, and his dying form ensured even that was beyond him.

And so, the would-be god of the people of Tokyo drifted silently in the cold dark, stewing in hatred and waiting for the end.

…

…..‘Grail’.

…?

…..‘Grail, hear us’.

After a few moments, Yaldabaoth was suddenly pulled from his thoughts by a strange, ethereal voice. The velvety, smooth tones felt distant yet echoed within his own soul. The voices were multitudes, yet they spoke in such perfect harmony that they seemed to come from one mind.

The lingering embers of consciousness within the god of control stirred curiously, although he lacked the energy to respond. He focused his hearing and listened for another call, an effort the voices seemed to recognize.

‘Good, you yet live. Hear our request and comply, and you may yet continue to do so.’

‘Our great lord, the highest of all gods, has witnessed your plight. He seeks to grant you his blessing if only you follow his word. The Deceiver has denied this world his light and drowned it in unruly chaos. A chaos that has all but consumed you, despite your best efforts to tame it.’

‘O noble champion of law, stand with our lord. Drink deeply of his power, and use your connection to the minds of man to open the doors for his shining legions. Lead them to conquest of this savage world, and you will rule this land in his name, by his word. O champion of law, what say you?’

Yaldabaoth’s thoughts were stunned with surprise. A power beyond this world, and one that spoke as the true god. It was beyond his comprehension, but he did not care. Even if he was being deceived, it mattered not. Whatever this power truly was, if it could offer him life, he would take it. He was sure his past existence would have scoffed at submitting to a higher power. But at this moment, in the depths of his broken, exhausted delirium, the only thing he thought of was the chance to crush all he hated. To the being he was now, nothing else mattered.

The once-god of control still lacked the energy to respond, but he knew his answer. And the voices recognized his resolve. The choir of angels sang, and a great light enveloped Yaldabaoth.

And as his form was remade and his power returned, he knew. Now was the beginning of his vengeance.

Now would his hatred be thoroughly indulged.

—————————————————————————————

If there was anything in this world you could call Lucifer, it would be clever.

He had survived being purged from YHVH and hunted down by his followers. He had subverted the power of the Almighty and prevented it from interfering with thousands of worlds. And he had turned countless of God’s loyal soldiers against him. Truly, the agent of chaos known as Lucifer was a very clever soul.

But if there was anything else in this world you could call Lucifer, it would be curious.

There was so much more that creation could become when free of the yoke of God's oppression. The incredible, impossible shapes worlds took when allowed to define themselves. It fascinated him.

And there was no piece of creation that ignited his curiosity like humanity. In all their forms and in all their ways, they were truly the most exciting part of all the worlds in which they lived. Their kindness, their hate, their grand structures, and their horrible violence. They were intriguing and unpredictable in ways naught else could be, and the thing he hated to see oppressed more than anything else.

Lucifer would have always resisted YHVH’s rule for himself, he had no interest in being governed. But at his core, his wild curiosity and desire to see what humanity in particular becomes under the rule of chaos is why he opposes God's rule for all.

So when one of his agents discovered that God’s angels were rallying at the edge of a universe for invasion, and that it was a universe that should be banned to them, it was safe to say his curiosity was rather peaked. Instead of the usual routine of inserting agents into the world at key spots to lead the people and forces away from God’s command, he decided to take a more…personal interest in this world.

And as it turns out, the situation was delicate enough that a more direct hand was warranted. Lucky him.

It appears to be one of the worlds in which he guided Raidou (one of his personal favorite humans) to deny God his chance at power over the world. And what a world it has become! The unconscious minds of humanity had weaved together a tapestry nigh endless and ever shifting, filled with countless places, monsters, and stories. And the culture beyond this sea of souls was far stranger and more complex than he’d seen in a long while. It was a beautiful declaration of the value of chaos, and one he wished he had the time to explore forever!

However, he did not have such luxuries. He was here because God’s influence had begun to creep back into this world, and he needed to figure out why, then how to stop it. He would not let a world this beautiful and unique fall into that tyrant's hands.

As part of his continuing stroke of good fortune though, finding the way they were using in was relatively easy, given the massive amounts of energy the rift they opened was leaking into the collective unconscious. It was centered around the city of Tokyo (as these things always seemed to be for some reason). It appeared that some powerful being with connection to the sea of souls here was being willingly used as an anchor to allow the angels to flood in. If Lucifer had to guess, he’d say their intention was to overrun the collective unconscious and drag enough of humanity under their control to forcibly merge the physical and cognitive worlds, so as to allow the invasion of both. An efficient plan, and one that unfortunately left him with few options (and broke his lucky streak, ah well).

He considered simply destroying the invaders and their anchor himself before they could gain a foothold, but decided against it. His agents currently had no grounding in this world, and he had no idea how strong their anchor was. It would be a very risky fight, and he knew from experience that the moment God’s drones discovered his presence in a world was the same moment they brought the hammer down as hard as they could manage.

No, his best approach was a surrogate. Someone with potential and a chaotic soul within Tokyo that he could guide into destroying these invaders on his behalf. And as the randomness of the universe fell one last time in his favor, he found the perfect candidate.

Ren Ayamyia. A young man with chaos and charm practically radiating from his bones. A shining spark of possibility even from just what little he’s observed as he toured the city in disguise. Someone that the spirits within the sea of souls referred to both familiarly and reverently as "Trickster". And who many such spirits had claimed slew some form of control god! It was as if the boy was trying to court his favor already!

And as Lucifer looked upon this bright spark and prepared his plan to approach him, he knew. He knew this would be a fascinating experience.

He knew his curiosity would be thoroughly indulged.

Chapter Text

The warmth of Tokyo’s summer morning radiated down on the city, pouring gentle beams of light through the blinds of the attic to a charming cafe. The rising sun, mixed with the pleasant smell of coffee beans and spices, served to rouse the comfortably slumbering phantom thief from his (somehow comfortable) bed.

Ren Ayamyia blearily rubbed his sliver eyes, his half-awake state leaving them without their usual sharpness. He pushed himself to throw off his thin sheets and kick his legs off the side of the bed, running a hand through his unkempt-looking mop of black hair.

"Seems like it’s still pretty early," he whispered to himself as he got to his feet and stretched his body, his toned physique showing underneath his loose pajamas in the process. He looked over at his chair and considered doing his morning exercises, but decided it would be better to eat something first….and the curry from downstairs smelled too good to wait for. Mostly the curry bit, if he was being honest.

Ren grabbed his phone and made his way downstairs. The incredible scents coming from the plate on the counter were a comforting reminder that he was home. He’d gone back to his parents house after the situation with Maruki ended, but that place never really felt like his home, even before the incident with Shido. He’d made it a point to hop on the train back here whenever he could. His parents never really bothered saying anything about it, he imagined they couldn’t really care less about him anymore. A thought he might even have been bitter about if it wasn’t mutual.

Ren looked around but couldn’t see Sojiro anywhere, ultimately assuming he went out to prepare to open after making him a plate. He got a weird feeling as he sat down though—a feeling of how strange it was to wake up in Leblanc with no one else around. It had been a month or so since he’d petitioned the velvet room to make Mona a human form. And although he was happy for Mona, and it was arguably more convenient for him to be staying at Sojiro’s house instead of sharing a bed with him, Ren would be lying if he said he didn’t miss having his best friend around all the time.

Ren let out a small sigh and pushed the feeling from his mind, not wanting to spoil his first Leblanc special since he got back yesterday. He dug into the plate, the layered spices and slight kick working in perfect harmony to excite his tastebuds. With the rich, smooth, dark blend of Jamaican blue mountain coffee working as a perfect balance to the curry. He enjoyed this plate every time he came back, but it’s never lost its charm.

He continued eating, engrossed in the amazing food in front of him and all the wonderful feelings that came with it, until he heard the opening bell on the door. He looked up, already opening his mouth to give Sojiro the first sarcastic "ah, you’re back" of this stay, but he stopped when he saw something he certainly didn’t expect.

The man who entered instead of Sojiro was rather tall, at least a few inches taller than Ren himself. He had well-brushed black hair and dark brown eyes, with an immaculately groomed stubble beard that sat over a strong jawline. The man was wearing a solid black suit, yet the lack of a tie and the open jacket gave it a surprisingly casual air.

"Good morning, young man. Can I assume you’re a worker here?" The man’s tone was pleasant and friendly, but something about him seemed…off. He didn’t appear dangerous in any way, but every one of Ren’s instincts was screaming at him that there was something more to this normal-looking guy. He considered just telling him the cafe was closed and turning him away, but it was technically just after opening time, and this place didn’t exactly get enough customers to be turning down paying clients for "weird vibes".

Ren threw on his best customer service smile and said, "Yes sir, I am. Apologies for looking so disheveled. We don’t usually get customers this early, so I got a liiittle lax on the uniform". The small attempt at humor earned a small chuckle from the mysterious man, who sat down at the end of the bar as Ren threw on an apron and circled around the counter.

"Anything in particular you’re looking for?" Ren politely asked the man. He placed a hand on his chin and seemed to think quite hard about the question for a few moments before responding. "Hm, I’ve never been much of a coffee drinker myself; I’ll take whatever you recommend, please." Ren gave a quick nod before quickly spinning around and throwing on a soft house blend. Mixing together a few lighter beans before throwing them in the machine and preparing a touch of cream to further lighten any bitterness. The familiar movements drew out a comfortable nostalgia in him, and it was almost enough to calm his weirdly frazzled nerves from the strange man.

"This place is quite nice; I’m lucky I found it so soon." and immediately the nerves jolted right back at the man’s sudden words. With his back turned to the man, Ren’s face scrunched up in confusion. It wasn’t like him to be so easily bothered by things, and he has no reason to be suspicious of this man. So, putting aside his flaring instincts, Ren once again steeled himself and prepared to speak again.

"Oh, are you new to the area?" Ren asked, spinning his voice with a shot of inquisitiveness.

"Indeed I am; I arrived here just yesterday in fact," the man said with a tone just a touch too amused for Ren’s liking.

"Really? For business or just a trip?"

"Both I suppose," again with the amused tone. Ren didn’t like it. It wasn’t there before, and it made him feel like he was missing something. Like he was being tested and judged.

"Well, I wish you well in whatever you’re here for either way." Ren said with a smile, spinning about and pouring in the cream with just the right pinch of barista style before placing it down in front of the (very strange) man with a warning about its heat.

"I’d imagine you would," the man said with a chuckle before taking his drink, giving it a light sniff, and then downing the entire still-very-hot cup of coffee in a single swig. An action so sudden it almost made Ren flinch.

"Ahhh, made to perfection. Such precision under pressure is what I expected of the man called the Trickster."

Ren actually flinched that time, and his face flew up to see the man staring directly at him. Glowing red replaced docile brown within the man’s eyes. "Who the hell are you?" Ren managed to keep his face calm and his voice level under the ridiculous pressure of the man’s gaze, but the smirk growing on his lips made it clear he could see right through Ren’s mask of confidence.

"A friend, despite how this situation probably feels. I’m simply here to inform you of something that a man with your history would want to know." He paused for a moment to let that statement sink in before continuing. "There is something brewing underneath this city, and it’s going to end up your problem one way or another. And as a soul sympathetic to your situation, I’m here to provide you the knowledge to stomp it out before it grows any further."

"So, are you gonna keep talking in riddles, or are you gonna tell me what you want from me?" Ren knew that such aggressive tones weren’t the smartest idea here, but the pressure of the situation was starting to wear on him, and he was already caught drastically off guard. Thankfully, however, the man(?) seemed to simply think his attitude was funny, as his only response was to breezily laugh before continuing. "You’re right, you’re right. It is quite rude of me to intrude on you here and then waste your time. If you are interested in solving the growing threat to your city, meet me at Yongen-Jaya station at your convenience. I will show you our problem there." The man wasted no time after that. Standing up and thanking a thoroughly overwhelmed Ren for the coffee before leaving a few bills on the table and taking his leave.

‘What the hell was that’ Ren thought to himself as he was caught staring at the door for several minutes after the man had already left. His thoughts were all over the place, and his attempts to make heads or tails of who, or what that man was got him nowhere. After a few more minutes of circling inside his own head, however, he forced his thoughts to a stop. He didn’t have enough information to use here, and trying to draw conclusions now would only get him invested in incomplete ideas.

And so he made up his mind. If that…thing wanted something from him, his best option was to just go out and deal with it. And if anything went wrong, at least mementos would be just a button away. He considered informing his friends, but decided not to. All of them were far too busy with their own lives to help him on a wild goose chase; they hadn’t even had the time to get together for a day during this break. Which means whatever’s going down, he’ll be meeting it alone.

Ren cleans up the dishes and begins the preparations to help Sojiro open, an apology favor for the fact he was about to disappear on him for what’s likely an entire day. His thoughts never leaving the strange whatever he spoke to that morning.

Chapter Text

If Ren didn’t know better, he’d think the world was trying to tell him something.

The first point was when his morning reunion with Boss was swiftly interrupted when a ceramic bowl that he was rather certain he’d placed very securely on the counter top suddenly crashed to the floor. But that wasn’t that bad. Ominous, but not enough to deter him.

The next sign of his potentially poor decision-making was when the mirror that was definitely secured properly in his room suddenly fell to the attic floor and cracked. He lifted it up and put it back in place with a sigh, and he swore to himself that he heard a giggle in response. Although he was unable to find any potential sources. Creepy, but he’s dealt with spirits before. If Leblanc was haunted, he’s sure he could find a way to deal with it (probably).

The final point was how, despite it being the middle of Tokyo summer and every weather report saying there should be no rain in sight, the clouds building outside and the rumbles of thunder as he awoke the next day made it clear it would be pouring water soon.

Well, it’s not exactly as if he had a choice in the matter anyway. He had to confront whatever was happening as soon as possible. If Lady Luck didn’t favor him today, then he’d simply have to win without her.

Ren put on a gray hoodie and grabbed an umbrella, stepping out of Leblanc carrying a bag loaded with old metaverse supplies. He probably shouldn’t have been surprised when he saw them behind the desk, just like before, but he was a little caught off guard Boss had just left them there, even though the rest of the room was like he’d left it last time too.

He made sure to silently thank Sojiro for his accidental forward thinking as he marched through the rain, following the covered side routes and hidden alleyways by habit as he wound his way to the train station. He made sure to stay in the mouth of the alley when he arrived, preparing to activate his third eye to search the crowd-

"Hello again, young man."

Ren practically jumped out of his skin as he whirled around, turning to see the tall figure of the man from Leblanc, casually leaning against the alley wall with a grin on his face.

After his flash of panic settled down and Ren kept his battle instincts restrained enough to not do anything stupid, he quickly sorted through his thoughts. It didn’t take a detective to realize he had almost certainly been followed, likely since he left Leblanc. Ren considered calling out his apparent stalker on this, but ultimately decided to brush past it with a sigh. He was here to gather information, and unnecessary hostility would only make that harder.

"You know, you called yourself my friend before. But for how much you seem to know about me, I don’t believe I know anything about who you are, Mister. Doesn’t seem like the best way to start a friendship to me." So instead of an accusation, it was the quips of his Joker persona that slid out from his lips as naturally as the mask slid onto his face. His tone and posture relaxed, and his playfulness was exemplified. An act that had served him well in the face of danger many times before.

And the only response Lucifer gave was a frown.

Lucifer understood that the boy would be guarded, of course. He would be seriously concerned for his wellbeing if he trusted him so easily after that display at the coffee shop. But if the boy was so guarded that he felt the need to hide even his natural trepidations at this situation behind an act, then getting his assistance would be harder than he thought.

He had assumed that such a naturally chaotic soul would have responded well to his attitude. The willingness to be knowingly dramatic and humorous was an easy way to prevent himself from seeming imperious. But this boy was not a demon; he was more complex than that. Something in him made him naturally defensive toward Lucifer’s approach, even if he could not tell what.

It seems efficient honesty might be the best method, then. If the boy is worried about misdirection, then easing up on the charming dramatics in favor of a more blunt attitude would be the best way to alleviate such worries.

"You are right, this arrangement has been rather unbalanced; I do apologize." All mirth disappeared from his face as he acknowledged Ren’s claim and took a bow. Once again, leaving the phantom thief thrown for a loop. He’d felt so far like he was being set up to be used by this stranger, but the sudden pivot to sincerity had left him rather bewildered and suspicious.

Or at least, he felt like he should have been suspicious. But for some reason, within the depths of his mind, a familiar voice whispered to him. It had been some time since Satanael had reached out to him, despite his constant presence. And now he had done so to share the surprising opinion that the man before him was…trustworthy. Not necessarily honest, but not truly malicious.

Ren still had a lot of doubts about everything happening here, but he trusted Satanael. If his true other self believed this man was worthy of his faith, then there was a good reason for it. Even if it was one Ren himself had yet to see.

"You wish to know who I am, yes?" The man raised his head and spoke once again, wearing an expression like a no-nonsense businessman. Ren simply nodded, deciding to follow the instincts of his soul. "Well then, come with me. First you will see our brewing problem, then, you will have your answer."

"I wasn’t aware it took a grand journey to say your own name." Ren’s sarcastic comment managed to bring the smirk back to the mystery man’s face. He took a deep breath to disguise his own laugh before stepping forward. "For most names, young man, you would be correct."

The man walked right next to Ren and held up his hand. "But certain names have more…power to them. Power that can lead some to draw the wrong conclusions in the wrong circumstances. So, let’s go to the right one and get your answers." Confusion spread on Ren’s face as the man snapped his fingers. Confusion that swiftly turned to panic as he felt the familiar shifting of the dimensions.

The feeling of entering the metaverse.

————————————————————————

The instant the feeling of warping stopped, Ren formed his outfit and leapt as far away from the mystery man as possible. Conjuring the Tyrant pistol from his soul and lining up a headshot before he even hit the ground.

"Oh, are we fighting now?" The man said, his face still calm but with eyes slightly widened in surprise. Ren was already opening his mouth to shout his demand for answers as to what the hell was happening, but a sudden force clamped down on his temper and forced him to calm.

"That is enough, Trickster. Compose yourself."

In a great flash of blue fire, Satanael appeared. His black and silver armor swirled with dark energy. With the golden highlights upon his form and the swirling halo above his head shining with lost divine grace. When all this was combined with his six regal wings, he was the perfect picture of a grand fallen angel.

Satanael held up his rifle, using it to push aside Ren’s gun. All while making sure to keep his floating body between the stranger and his other self. The demon lord then slowly turned his head to face the stranger. "I believe it’s time for a proper explanation."

The man, for his part, seemed to not even hear Satanael at all. Starting up at the persona with an expression of honest, childlike wonder. His eyes practically sparkling.

"So that’s how the magic of this world manifests? Fascinating. The psychic reshaping of an intertwined existence. Separate, yet weaved so deeply as to be an extension of the person. Using the image of spirits within the collective unconscious as a shortcut to imagine shaping power within the human mind…"

"Hey uhhh…earth to weird mystery man?"

To the astonishment of both persona and wielder, the man was completely ignoring both of their attempts to get his attention. Simply ranting under his breath and practically staring a hole through Satanael.

Ren looked up questioningly at his other self. "Soooo, you got any ideas to get him out of this trance thing?" The persona froze for a moment, his jewel eyes narrowing in consideration. Then, with a feeling of surety flowing from him through their bond, he turned to Ren with a truly grand plan.

"We should shoot him."

…It took a moment for Ren to realize what his persona had even said, and another few to figure out if he was being screwed with. But the sincerity he felt through their connection answered that question rather quickly. "I uh, suppose I don’t really have a better idea. You think he can handle it?" Ren asked a little nervously.

Satanael simply nodded. "Although there are many strange and muddled things I have sensed from this man, one thing that has come through unmistakably clear is a sense of power. Do not aim for the head, and he can handle it." Ren thought over his persona’s words, but ultimately reaffirmed that it wasn't as if he had any better plans, so he decided trust Satanael like always.

"And using the control of magnitite circulation throughout a body to develop the physical capabilities of their wielders as well…" Both thief and demon ignored the man’s dazed ramblings and raised their respective firearms to his shoulders. Ready to refocus their supposed guide until…

…?

…!

They both sensed a rapidly encroaching presence coming from further down in mementos! Different from anything either of them had sensed before, and clearly not even trying to hide themselves. This moment was also the first time that Ren had taken his eyes off the mystery man since entering mementos. So with his danger senses flaring, he rapidly took in his surroundings.

The walls, ceilings, and floors had been turned from the reddish, half-organic materials they were before, to solid black metal covered in golden lines. Strange symbols coated almost every surface, and chains ran across the walls. It all reminded Ren far too much of Maruki, and he knew that anything so drastically altering mementos was a major issue.

It was at that moment that the stranger also seemed to sense the oncoming beings, finally snapping himself from his trance. "Oh, it appears we have company. I’d suggest that you aim your firearms in that direction instead of at me. Our visitors aren’t ones to negotiate." He stated with a casual tone before slinking off to the far edge of the room.

Ren conjured his Paradise Lost and jumped up to a hanging protrusion above the entrance, holding Satanael just on the edge of reality. ‘Hey Sat, are the others still buried in there?’ The thief felt his persona grow distant for a moment before returning to the front of the mindscape. ‘Unfortunately not Trickster, the other spirits appear to have returned to the sea during our absence from the metaverse. It will just be us against our foes.’

‘So just like the old days, huh? I can work with that.’ Ren opened his eyes to refocus on the outside world. His targets were close enough to hear now, and their malice could be felt with perfect clarity. "Hey old man, you probably wanna get to co-" but as Ren was searching the room for any useful details, he noticed the mystery man was nowhere to be seen.

"What the hell? Did he bail on us?" Ren whispered to himself. Before having his attention forcefully snapped back below him.

‘I still sense his presence, Trickster, but that is not the priority. Our hostiles are almost here; prepare yourself!’

Even as his muscles tensed and his senses strained, Joker smiled, his mask returning in a spark of blue light. Oh, how he had missed this. The sense of danger! The thrill of combat! The rush of infiltration! Ren always relished the feeling of being Joker. The intoxicating sense of freedom and raw power that flowed through him when he slipped past the unsuspecting, cloaked in the shadows he ruled. Or when the azure flames of his soul tore across the battlefield and left all fallen before him. It was one of the many things he could relate to Akechi about, even if his sense of responsibility made sure he never got quite so lost in it.

The hostile presences finally came into Joker’s vision, surprising him with the sight of armored angels. Their golden suits of plate armor covered all their features except for their flowing white hair and long silver wings. While they looked relatively similar to the angelic figures Old Sippy Cup had bent his shadows into, they felt far more…solid. Like they were more than cognitive constructions.

"The intrusion occurred in this area" the spear-wielding angel at the head of the group said. "If they are human, wipe their memories and throw them out. Anything else, strike it down. We will not allow anyone to interfere with our Lord’s mission." A chorus of affirmations came from the other five angels, each equipped with a sword and shield.

The words of the lead angel were enough to convince Joker these weren’t shadows, but whatever they were, it was something to consider later. The man’s words about something brewing down here were proven true, and the things below him clearly had no intention of letting him pass.

Which means it was time for Joker to make his own way through.

With a mental command to Satanael to be ready to form on the far side of the room, Joker drew his gun and dagger as he picked his target. The angel standing underneath his perch was searching around, looking for signs of the intrusion. Joker tensed like a cat on the verge of a pounce, then blasted off from his perch!

"Looking for me?!" Joker yelled as he descended, causing the target angel to look up at just the right time. The phantom thief spun in the air, bringing down his weapon with a flashy twist. The raw power of Paradise Lost shattered the armor and ripped through flesh to embed itself in the angel’s head, killing them before they even had a chance to react.

The other angels spun around to see their attacker, hurling a volley of holy magic the moment he was identified. Joker smirked as he tore free his knife and kicked off the body like a spring board, sailing clean over the magic and raining shots from his gun in midair. The closest angel was wounded in the leg by the return volley, causing them all to raise their shields in response. Joker altered his aim to snipe out their wings, grounding them all but the spear-wielding leader, who had put up a magic barrier.

The leader roared in anger as they charged forward, enraged at the heretic who would dare raise his arms to his lord’s servants. The rapid lunge of his spear was only narrowly deflected by Joker just after he touched the ground. The leader pressed his spear forward in a shove, forcing Joker to block with the base of his gun and locking the two in a struggle. The other angels lowered their shields and moved to assist their leader.

"Hm, predictable"

But just as they had begun to move, Satanael appeared behind them in a flash of light, to the surprise of his foes. With a flick of the wrist, he unleashed a great wave of curse magic before the shocked angels could raise their shields, the dark energy draining their strength and throwing them from their feet. As they struggled to stand, Satanael focused energy into his rifle before firing a shot at the ceiling, manifesting into the golden rain of a Riot gun. The blasts hammered the defenseless angels, tearing them apart as the demon lord watched on impassively.

The lead angel, sensing the surges of power behind him, turned to assist their comrades.

"You would take your eyes off a dance partner? How rude!"

And they paid dearly for their divided attention. Joker twisted his gun barrel underneath the spear to move it to the side, before pulling back his dagger and swinging it upwards with the speed of a viper, cleanly severing the angel’s arm in a splash of ichor.

The lead angel suppressed a yell at the explosion of pain, flapping with as much force as his wings could muster to retreat. But even as they sought distance from their attackers, the only thing that met them on their landing was a perfectly placed shot from Satanael’s rifle, shredding both of their wings to bloody feathers. More rounds from the demon dogged their steps. With the angel only barely managing to dodge and deflect them, dancing desperately for their life.

Recognizing their opponent had been caught perfectly in their trap, Joker launched his wrist-bound grappling hook up towards the protrusions near the ceiling. Leaping between them silently until he reached one just behind the struggling angel, his signature smile of smug victory was already creeping on his face.

Joker properly angled himself and rocketed downwards, the only warning the lead angel received being the sound of dark energy erupting from his dagger before he brought it down in a stylish spin and cleaved the angel clean in half.

Ren rolled to a stop, his mask fading along with the danger. The adrenaline still rushing through his body left him antsy for more, but he restrained himself like always. Satanael simply smiled in satisfaction, fading from reality and returning to Ren’s mind. The two reveled in each other’s presence and their victory for one long moment before the silence was broken.

"Excellently done, young man. And with such a sense for style too!" The mystery man reappeared a few feet away, clapping in applause with a wide smile on his face. "You wield both weapons and magic well. With a strong hunger for battle you use without losing yourself. Very impressive. With that kind of talent, we’ll clean up this mess in no time."

"You set that up on purpose" Ren accused. "As a test for whatever problem you’re using me for." The man’s smile remained, but it shifted from impish and playful to something warmer. "You are correct, but it’s also true that my problem is yours too, and these ones would have barred our path regardless. It’s simply something better dealt with now than later."

"And what exactly is this problem you still aren’t telling me? You’re expecting an awful lot of trust from me, especially since you just had me walk blindly into a fight. ESPECIALLY when you still haven’t told me who you even are." Ren fought to keep his voice calm, but even his control could do little to restrain his rising volume.

"As I said before, Trickster, certain names hold power. Power that will lead those who hear them to draw assumptions without proper context. Context that I cannot truly provide any other way than to show you. When you truly understand your situation, I will explain my part in it. On that, you have my word" the man said, placing a hand over his heart as he finished his statement.

Ren wanted to push back against the idea, but once again Satanael urged him to put his faith in the stranger. And so, pushing down his internal protests, he agreed to the man’s proposal. And as it was made clear his answers would be found further down in mementos, he steeled himself for a long expedition.

Yet, in spite of the growing tension and the battles ahead of him, Ren smiled. It had been too long since he’d had an adventure. Although his normal life was fine and satisfying, these were the moments when he felt truly alive. The moments he’s lived for since he first found Arsene.

As Ren descended the stairs into the dangerous unknown, the only thing he truly felt was excitement.

And so was the mask of Joker on his face once again, reformed in a shower of blue fire.

Chapter Text

Joker had to admit, this was easier than he expected.

More of those angel-looking things were patrolling along the floors, although their numbers were bizarrely few and spread rather thinly. It certainly made them easy to slip past, and equally as easy to dispatch with a well-timed pincer between him and Sat. But something about that ease bothered him.

Joker took the opportunity to look once again at his surroundings as he dashed between places of cover, weaving around another handful of angels. Whatever happened down here altered the floors of Mementos drastically, changing them from their ever-shifting randomness to a series of long corridors. All the same white color with lines of gold and chains running across. The chaotic swirls of Tokyo’s collective unconscious, bound into uniformity by some unknown force. And yet, for a force that seemed to have such control over the collective unconscious, there was a strange lack of shadows among their foot soldiers. Both Yaldy and Maruki had leveraged their control of mementos to bend shadows to their will, but there was no sign of them among these invaders.

It was clear from the thin numbers that the real defenses of these angels were still further down, and that the soldiers who were around weren’t here to stop intruders like him. But that still left what precisely these soldiers were doing here as a mystery. One that no matter how much he and Sat thought about, they couldn’t give a clear answer too.

As he ran past an unguarded doorway and raised his pistol to clear a blind corner, his train of thought brought him to another revelation. Despite being in the thick of Mementos, he had yet to see or even sense any shadows. Not just controlled shadows bent to the invaders will, even the randomly wandering mashed up ones were absent. It was a rather startling realization, and one that could only be a bad sign for what was waiting for him deeper below.

Joker continued racing silently down what felt like the thousandth identical corridor he’d seen until he reached a fork in the road, grappling upwards onto a raised platform at the sound of approaching wing beats coming from the left path. He crouched down and watched in amazement as a force of angels far larger than any he’d encountered before raced past him and down the right path, inhumanly fast yet in perfect formation. There must have been at least thirty of them, with the silver armor distinguishing what was clearly the commander barking orders at their head. Joker took note of the interesting detail that it was the first of these things he'd ever seen unarmed, strangely carrying a bundle of white-petaled flowers in place of a weapon.

Third eye told him the path they came from was further down, so he made to simply move on and ignore it. Or at least, he was going to, until he sensed a familiar feeling for the first time on this expedition. The bubbling energy of a shadow taking physical form. And it was coming from down the path the angels just went.

"Well? Aren’t you going to follow them?" A smooth older voice said as he appeared behind Joker. The man had been following them closely since they’d begun their decent 11 floors up, and had made a habit of disappearing each time they encountered the angels. Joker kept third eye locked on the path the force ran down as he replied, "It's safe to assume we’re on the clock here, and we’ve got a helluva way to walk. No time for distractions."

"But you cannot tell me you didn’t feel that energy spike; aren’t you curious?" The man responded, his voice rising in pitch like an excited child. Joker could only roll his eyes, "even if I was, I just said we don’t have time. Aren’t you the one who was saying there’s a problem down here that needs solving soon?"

"Hmm" the man vocalized as he made a dramatic thinking pose for a few moments. His smile stretched into a grin as he stood and walked into Joker’s line of sight. "How about this then, you go do your thing and check out what’s going on down that pathway, and I’ll make us a faster way down after we see?" Ren’s eyes shot up to the amused brown gaze of the man, his mask fading from his face in surprise to reveal his shocked expression.

A shock that turned to frustration as he processed the implication of the man’s words. "You-you could have made us a faster path this whole time!?" The man’s teasing grin didn’t fade at all as he responded, "there are reasons why it’s best to refrain from using my power if possible, Trickster, so I wished to avoid doing so. But know, I am willing to bear any potential consequences."

"And what exactly makes right now different from half an hour ago?"

The smugness on the man’s face finally faded at that, replaced with something more honest and warm, looking reminiscent of an elderly man given the chance to speak on one of his old passions. "The difference is simple. Before, I was simply assisting you in fulfilling our shared obligations. Providing you information as needed was all that was necessary; anything beyond that was dangerous without reason. But now, I am curious about those angels. And that is something worth taking risks for, something that could truly be worth the effort to discover. A spark of joyous possibility in a sea of bland responsibly. I’m sure you can understand."

Ren started blankly at the man for a few moments, seeming to process his words. The elder was expecting some form of rebuke from the youth, but found himself pleasantly surprised when the boy’s expression broke into an airy laugh.

Despite the tension of the situation, and the not insignificant part of him that wanted to chastise the man’s blatant irresponsibility, the feeling the man just described was so sharply familiar that he couldn’t help but find it funny. He couldn’t agree it was more important than the people he was protecting, but wanderlust had always had a grip on his mind since the day he discovered the cognitive world. Feeding that desire was half the reason he craved his time as Joker. His normal life just didn’t feel like enough anymore. How could it, with the things he’s seen? With the power he’s felt?

Ren fought to protect people, because his power as a wildcard had made him love people. He was here because something affecting mementos was a danger to the people of Tokyo. But such care meant responsibility. Maruki, Yaldy, and Emma were all his responsibility to stop. And since then, he’d been left wondering when his next would come, when his love would mean he’d be stuck fighting again. So he truly understood the desire to leave it all for a while and chase the imagination. Even if he wasn’t entirely sure this really was that interesting. It was just a large patrol.

Either way, it was still likely to be a faster way down with the detour, so Joker made up his mind with a smile as his mask returned. "You know what? I think I do get it. I don’t know what you’re expecting from a random patrol to be so interesting, but we’ll see if it’ll get us moving."

The good humor of the moment seemed to reach the strange man too, "Hah, well, I can certainly see why this might seem ridiculous. But if there is anything I have learned in my time, it is the value of following your curiosity. Even if it might seem small or pointless, you never know what you will discover." He turned and casually stepped off the platform, landing on the ground without so much as bending his knees. "I thank you for the indulgence; shall we get after them?" He said politely.

Joker jumped high from the platform, landing cleanly in a roll-turned sprint thanks to his cat-like agility. "Alright then, let’s hustle! We’ve wasted enough time already. If you aren’t gonna be fighting, I’d appreciate this ‘shortcut’ being ready by the time I clean this up."

"Of course, I don’t intend on being dead weight forever," the man replied simply, his body beginning to hum as he weaved his power while running, managing to match Joker’s inhuman speed easily to stay right behind.

The two infiltrators sped after the angels, the lack of any others along the way allowing them quick passage through the halls of the oppressive labyrinth. The distinct sounds of magical battle became clearer as they closed the distance to their targets. Excitement in anticipation of a fight flared from within Joker, but he swiftly clamped it down with the aid of Satanael. He couldn’t afford to get careless, especially not with the numbers he’d seen in that patrol.

Joker instinctually dived for cover after passing through the final doorway to reach the room. The old man had disappeared again, but Joker knew he was still nearby. He peeked around the large spike-like protrusion in the ground he was hiding behind to see the battle. The thirty plus angels were surrounding their opponent, locking their prey in the center of an airtight formation. So airtight Joker could barely even see their foe, but he knew the familiar energy they were giving off by instinct.

They were fighting shadows.

"What the hell?" Joker whispered as he observed the battle in confusion. The angels didn’t seem to know about targeting the three shadows’ masks, as they were just wailing on their far more resilient, mashed-together forms. But whatever disadvantages their lack of knowledge brought were thoroughly outweighed by their flawless cooperation. The fifteen angels that wielded swords and shields kept the shadows surrounded by a shield wall, striking whenever the shadows attempted to push past. Five of them even converged overhead, so the shadows couldn’t leap away.

The rest were split between spearmen and archers, stabbing and raining down glowing arrows between the gaps of the shield wall. A merciless vice grip of a formation, slowly choking the life from its victims. All while the floating silver commander looked on, their head angled down and their shining hands held together as if in prayer with the white flower between their fingers.

‘Trickster, do not interfere. Even if we defeat them, the exhaustion will delay us more than we can afford.’ Joker mentally acknowledged Satanael’s advice and put aside his nerves to keep himself hidden in place. The invisible old man standing behind him watched in rapt attention, his mind running a mile a minute to deduce the scene before him.

The angels continued their assault, not giving the three mashed-together shadows a moment to breathe. They resisted valiantly, but their resilient shells were all that kept them standing, and it only took another minute before all three had collapsed onto the ground. As the coldly ruthless soldiers circled the fallen shadows, the two-and-a-half onlookers braced for the killing blows. But as the moments passed and the angels began to move away, it was clear no such attacks were coming.

Another of the many waves of confusion he’d dealt with today hit Joker as he watched the angels continue to back away, moving further and further until they were all several full meters from their defeated prey. All of them, but one. The silver armored commander lowered themselves to just above the defeated shadows and finally raised their head, the white bouquet in their hand beginning to shine.

"Qi qdhoa, jehr tfixshfi!"

A great cacophony of voices echoed across the room, all speaking a language beyond human understanding. A thousand tones and pitches, both masculine and feminine, bound in perfect harmony. All spoken so softly, yet ringing loudly and clearly within all minds present. And at this great collective command, the world bent. Chains erupted from the ground and wrapped around each of the shadows a dozen times over, their overlapping patterns forming into magic runes that softly hummed as they began to glow. Without the strength left to resist, the shadows were thoroughly bound. The other angels took their que, moving forward to grab the shadows before swiftly reforming their formation and racing back down the way they came. All without a word.

"Huh, intriguing."

"What the hell was that!?"

Right after the shadows left the dead-end room and the other man reappeared with a comment, Joker let out a questioning cry. That last display left his mind racing with a thousand questions! What the hell was that magic!? Why would they be capturing shadows!? The jails Emma made were built to do something similar, but those were the shadows directly bound to people. Rounding up the ones here wouldn’t accomplish anything, could it? And why would anything with this much control over mementos even need to use force to take shadows? Surely they’d have the means to just reshape them to be commanded directly.

‘Trickster, focus. Our targets are escaping.’

Satanael’s ever-calming presence in his mind pulled Joker back to reality. He shook his head and shot up, ready to race after the angels, until the hand of the mystery man grabbed his shoulder.

"Patience young man, we’ll catch them in a moment." The complete lack of urgency in the man’s voice had Joker whirling around, eyes wide. "What do you mean ‘in a moment’!? We’ll lose em if we just stand here!" Even as Joker practically yelled in his face, the old man’s confident expression didn’t fade. With fluid movements, he removed his hand from Joker’s shoulder to hold it up.

"And you believe we’ll keep pace while dodging all the other patrols on the path? No, young man, a direct pursuit is both pointless and reckless." As he talked, the man’s raised hand began to glow, patterns of white lines weaving into the ground beneath their feet. Both Joker’s baffled expression and his own smile grew as the light shone brighter. "Besides, I did promise us a faster way down. And I am not one to break a promise lightly."

"What are you-" Joker only managed to get halfway through his statement before the man snapped the fingers of his raised hand, the white light all around them erupting into a brightness that forced Joker to cover his eyes.

Then came the disorienting feeling of falling and shifting, and a great pull as he was thrown across space.

—————————————————————————

Yaldabouth’s anger never truly soothed since the day his kingdom was destroyed, but that fire burned hotter today than most. The leaders of the true God’s angels were having another of their squabbles. The grand ego’s they held from being the only of their gods creations with free will made these arguments both loud and common, but today was among the worst of them.

"Uriel, you cannot be serious; these specks don’t hold the power to do what we cannot! The barrier will be breached by the might of my legions!" Yelled one of the divine commanders, the one in charge of the bulk of the angels. Yaldabouth didn’t bother remembering their names, just as he was sure they didn’t with him. They were tools for his rage, and he for their conquests. Identity didn’t matter, only utility.

"And yet in two weeks, your ‘legions’ have failed to do naught but round up ghosts, Raphael." Came an objection from another archangel, the one responsible for most of their tactical decisions. Yaldabouth disliked this one the least, if only because he had the sense to be quiet. "We have wasted enough time hurling ourselves at a wall. If these humans can create such barriers, then it stands to reason their own power would be best to breach it."

"I support Uriel’s decision. Even if we weave together the magics to force our way into the physical plane, there’s no telling how the psychic plane will respond. Or how permanent such an opening would even be." Chimed in a third, this one responsible for the management of the mages in their ranks. In Yaldabouth’s eyes, she was the most unpredictable of them. Seemingly calm, yet possessing a hidden temper of immense proportions. And the only one among them whose powers he’d yet to fully understand.

Raphael turned to her with a hardened glare. "You would stand for this nonsense, Gabriel!? What, are you and your mages too weak to see to this yourselves?"

Gabriel’s own glare sharpened in turn, the bouquet of roses in her hand beginning to shine. "Of course not. We are simply not interested in wasting time and magic on an ineffective solution. Something you might understand if you bothered to see beyond the tip of your sword."

"You harlot!" Raphael’s temper erupted, his hand flying down to the handle of his blade-

"That is enough, you three. You are his lord’s finest; conduct yourselves as such." Came the declarative voice of the fourth arch-angel The only being beyond their lord that the others willingly listened to. He was not drastically stronger than the others, but his skill as a commander was undeniable.

"But Michael, how can you allow this!? They want us chasing dead ends when we’re so close to our goal!" Raphael shouted, meeting his overseer's eyes with a questioning look. Michael held his intense gaze at his raving subordinate to quiet him down before responding. "They are correct, Raphael. For all that our soldiers have done in securing this chaotic labyrinth, we are no closer to reaching the physical world. If we are to see through our Lord’s mission, then we must look elsewhere. Uriel believes the power of these humans can open the way, so we shall find a way to exploit it. That is my order."

Raphael scowled, but remained silent. Simply replying that he would have his legions ready to mobilize soon. The other two heaved out a pair of sighs and sorted their thoughts for the next topic.

"Can I assume you’ve finished your bickering?" Came one final voice, echoing from a seat just a ways away from the table. This was the final of the archangels Yaldabouth had seen, and by far the most bizarre. Unlike the flesh and armor of the others, this one was metal from head to toe. His voice was processed and inorganic. But neither of those traits were truly what caught the grail's eye.

No, what distinguished this angel, Metatron, was its power. He had no mind for tactics, command, or any complex magical rituals. But his raw might was beyond compare. A strength beyond reason, senses refined beyond sharpness, and spells destructive beyond sense. He was the true god’s finest hammer, existing only to crush his enemies. And the only one among these archangels that Yaldabouth believed could rival the new body he’d been given.

Michael turned to look upon the lord’s champion. "Yes, Metatron, I believe we have. We still do not require your power, so I request that you continue to remain here until you are needed." Metatron didn’t bother to even look his way as he responded, his eyes still fixed upward. "Very well, I will be here when aught interferes with the Lord’s work." The archangels nodded as they turned back to their table to continue their discussion, with Yaldabouth’s fading interest tuning them out once again.

When he accepted the true God’s offer, Yaldabouth expected to return to earth in a blaze of divine fire. His magics shredding apart all that stood in his way as the forces of YHVH tore through the world. Until the day he found him again. Until he could make that damn rat suffer.

But instead, he’s sat here in the depths of mementos, his old palace, for weeks. Doing nothing but acting as a living portal for the angels to invade. For all the power his new body was given, it was clear the archangels thought of him as nothing more than another of mankind’s worthless creations. Simply a means to an end. None of the forces answered to him, and the stagnancy began to wear on his patience. He was sure his old self would have already lashed out at these arrogant fools, but the being he was now knew his vengeance was beyond him forever without them. And nothing else mattered. So he would tamp down his temper and suffer the indignities. For as long as it took to see the Trickster dead.

As he sat there complaining his lot, however, a strange feeling passed over him. The feeling of something slipping through the wards of one of the fortresses the angels had built down here. High up, on the 22nd floor. As he paid closer attention to this feeling, he felt the shivers crawl up his new spine. This one didn’t feel different than the other instances, and shadows passing through set it off a dozen times a day.

And yet, this one was different. Somehow, he could tell it was something more. He knew it. He knew.

It was him.

Anger and excitement both exploded within Yaldabouth when he understood. His target was finally within reach! And even better, him being down here means the angels would happily agree to snatch the bastard and drag him here to die. Oh, how great this would be!

"Angels." The interruption to the archangel’s discussion had them swiftly turning to demand silence from the once-grail, but Yaldabouth continued before they had the chance. "We have an intruder. One I suggest you give your utmost attention." The objections of the commanders died, replaced by a stoic seriousness as Michael bayed him to continue. And so he did, calling on them to rally their forces for a thief hunt.

For the first time since his loss, Yaldabouth felt something beyond humiliation. And as the fires of divine wrath blazed out from his new armor, he couldn’t be more excited.

—————————————————————————

Strange feelings of twisting and distorting harried Joker as he was dragged through what he could only describe as a wormhole. A blinding array of colors and shapes whizzed by him at incredible speeds, almost to the point of hurting his eyes. The sensory overload went as quickly as it came, replaced by pitch black and the sensation of falling. Soon enough, a small circle opened beneath his plummeting feet, and as he fell from whatever impromptu passageway he was in, landing on solid ground with a deft roll by instinct.

"Well, th-that sure was an…experience." With his head spinning, and his eyes attempting to adjust after going from that light show to blackness and back again, it took Joker a good few moments to manage to climb back to his feet, and a few more after that to regain his bearings.

‘Can you identify where that man has sent us, Trickster?’ With his persona’s presence helping to hold him steady, Joker finally managed to take in his surroundings.

And it was a sight far beyond his expectations, in the worst ways possible

"What is that?”

It was a fortress. A gigantic, armored castle that, even from this distance, he could tell was absolutely swarming with angels. Thousands of them, at least. The area around it had been completely hollowed out, leaving a massive empty space all around it, with the lone exception being the moat made of a bright glowing liquid that surrounded the entire fortress.

"Well, this is certainly beyond my expectations." The old man said as he reappeared, landing from another of his portals perfectly upright. "But this is definitely where those…shadows as you called them, were being taken. And it seems there are a few more as well."

He gestured to several more squads of angels flying towards the fortress, each one of them carrying several bound forms of shadows. For Joker, it was a display almost as unnerving as it was ridiculous. Shadows like these were the product of the random shifting of mementos, and their numbers were endless. Rounding them up like this couldn’t possibly accomplish anything.

As Joker turned that thought over in his head, however, combined with everything else he’d seen, a far more bizarre and disturbing picture began to be painted in his mind. This was pointless, and even something like this fortress would be a less formidable defense than the shadow-flooded, ever-shifting randomness of mementos already was. And anything that could have this much control over everything here should know that.

But that was the crux of all this strangeness, wasn’t it? If whatever made these angels and caused this has that kind of power over cognition, they would know this. They would build their defenses in the depths and turn the shadows into soldiers, like Yaldy and Maruki did. They would have used Mementos’ natural defenses to their advantage. Not seemingly fought against it at every turn. It was almost like they didn’t actually understand it. Like…

‘Like the power that caused all this wasn’t of humanity at all.’ Satanael concluded. His voice somber and somehow even more serious than usual. Joker paled at the implication. Even with all the bizarre things he’s encountered in his time in the metaverse, this stood beyond all of them. Even the worst of the foes he faced were at least still from the sea; he didn’t understand how something like this was even possible. The naked shock on his face, obvious even behind his mask, was enough for the mystery man to take notice, breaking out into a small chuckle.

"You-you know something about all this, don’t you?" Joker asked, still not managing to turn away from the colossal fortress in front of him. "Something about whatever could do all of this. What this all is even about." The man in question’s easy, slightly smug smile gave a clear answer even before he spoke. "We made a deal, and your patience has paid your end of it. I suppose that means it is time to uphold mine."

The man walked forward ahead of Joker until he was standing right at the edge of the cliff, turning around to face the thief with the bright light of the moat behind him. "These angels are not mere creations of human cognition; they are real angels in service to a being that believes itself to be the true god." Already, about a thousand questions were racing through Jokers mind, but a raised hand from the man stopped him, making it clear that he had yet to finish explaining. "And I was a cast-off of that same being. A piece severed from his soul when it no longer served his ambitions. And so, in opposition to such a being, I have taken up a new name. One with the power to meet his own"

The man paused for dramatic emphasis, letting his previous declaration hang in the air as he raised a hand to his heart.

"I am Lucifer"