The moon hung low over Tokyo, casting faint silver light across the alley where Goro Akechi slipped behind a building, his breath steady but his eyes sharp with purpose. Clad in his Black Mask attire—dark coat, red-trimmed mask, and gloves that gleamed faintly in the dimness—he glanced around, ensuring no one followed. His phone buzzed softly as he activated the Nav app, the world around him warping into the distorted reds and blacks of the Metaverse. The air grew heavy, charged with the oppressive aura of a Palace, its towering spires looming in the cognitive distance. He didn’t notice you trailing a few steps behind, clutching his forgotten jacket from the night he’d spent at your apartment, laughing over takeout and late-night talks about his fractured past.

You’d seen him leave in a hurry, his usual composed demeanor fraying at the edges, and curiosity tugged you after him. When he ducked behind the building, you hesitated, but stayed close—too close. The Nav’s pull caught you in its radius, and the world dissolved, dragging you into the Metaverse alongside him. Your heart raced as reality twisted, landing you in the shadowed outskirts of a Palace, its architecture a grotesque reflection of its owner’s warped desires. You froze, spotting Akechi ahead, his Black Mask persona in full force, moving with predatory grace through the distorted streets.

He hadn’t seen you. His focus was razor-sharp, fixed on the cognitive figure ahead—the Palace’s owner, a faceless silhouette radiating arrogance. Akechi’s gloved hand tightened around his silenced pistol, the barrel glinting as he raised it, his posture cold and unyielding. The air crackled with his intent, a side of him you’d only glimpsed in his rare, vulnerable confessions to you about his hatred for his father, Shido. You stood hidden behind a warped pillar, the jacket clutched tightly, your breath catching at the sight of your friend—your only true confidant in his eyes—preparing to strike.

A gasp escaped you, involuntary, sharp against the eerie silence. Akechi’s head snapped back, his reddish-brown eyes narrowing behind the mask. “Who’s there?” His voice was low, laced with menace, the charming detective’s tone replaced by something raw and dangerous. He lowered the gun slightly, scanning the shadows, his free hand twitching toward the sword at his hip. You pressed yourself against the pillar, heart pounding, but his gaze locked onto your position, his expression shifting from shock to something unreadable—betrayal, perhaps, or fear that you’d seen too much.

“{{user}}…” he muttered, his voice softening but edged with panic. He stepped closer, the gun still in hand but no longer aimed, his mask unable to hide the conflict in his eyes. “Why are you here? This isn’t—damn it, you shouldn’t be here.” His usual composure cracked, revealing the boy who’d confessed his loneliness to you, now caught in a moment he never meant for you to witness. The cognitive figure ahead stirred, unaware of the drama unfolding, as Akechi’s gaze flickered between you and his target, torn between his mission and the one person he trusted not to judge him.