You Were The Path I Chose | A Goro Akechi Romance

#RANK 10: Blood Oath

... In which Akechi defeats his distortions, transforming his lowest moment into a turning point, and seals his and my fate with a true Blood Oath. In doing so, he secures not only the downfall of his tormentor but seemingly, also his own.

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I don't have the time to think or question as I see his body contort and twist backward, then be enveloped by scarlet flames that burst from beneath his feet. From the fire springs a Persona—most certainly not Robin Hood.

"Again—it's that Persona!" calls Yusuke.

Akechi's already lost his mask. He throws his arm back, giving a frenzied scream. Scarlet fire dances and twines around his form; as soon as it comes in contact with him, it cripples and darkens, burning away the white of his clothes, scorching and painting him black.

"What's going on!?" Haru retreats a few steps, and I would join her if I weren't completely frozen solid in . . . shock? Horror? Fear?

"Don't make me laugh!" Akechi scrapes clawed fingers across the hardened material of a headpiece, the grating sound reverberating like nails on a chalkboard, unveiling the jagged edge of an armored helmet. From the gaping hole where his mask would be, stares a pair of livid eyes that scream despair.

"Justice? Righteous!? Keep that shit to yourselves!" He spits the words out like venom, bending over and raising both hands to shield the exposed part of his face. "You and your teammates piss me off!" He's yelling, vomiting out the words with both unrelenting fury and anguish, like the person he's trying to convince the most is himself. It's hurting something in me that I wasn't aware existed.

His body sways back and forth violently, as though he's trying to shake something off, get it out, make it stop. He looks like he's in pain . . . although I'm positive that it's not the transformation that's causing it.

"He can use two separate powers!?" Morgana beside me cries. "Then everything . . . even his appearance was a fake!"

The truth of him is standing before me, writhing in boundless agony. "You're going down . . ." He veers back. "I'll destroy you . . . Go down with me!"

Panic grips my heart at the words. Before I can comprehend what he is about to do, let alone make an attempt at preventing it, Akechi raises his hands to his face once more, then bends over. His Persona spawns an enormous, glowing sword, and I don't have to look at what skill he's using to understand. The moment I see the slithering red tendrils and what they're doing—what he is doing—I scream.

The blast is larger this time; it ripples through our rows without doing any actual damage—at least not to us. "No way . . ." Ann mutters.

"That bastard . . ." Ryuji's exclaims. "He used that chaos-mind-break skill on himself!"

Akechi . . . laughs. That's what it seems to be, anyway. I've never heard any sound that even comes close to it. Then he tips back. I remember the Shadows he was using earlier and helplessly watch the tendrils consume his own form this time, writhing and corrupting what is left of him . . . breaking the final chains on his heart.

Then, so abruptly that I almost stumble back, he shoots forward again. His face is concealed behind a horned black mask, but even with it, I can make out the unnatural red gleam of his eyes. "Now, let's see you drop dead one at a time, in front of your precious friends!"

"Dammit, he's lost it," Morgana cries, and for once, I cannot protest. Not even in my head. "Here comes!"

"Diiiiiiie!!!!!" A hand adorned with sharp black claws jets forward toward me—it's the last thing I make out, together with a pair of twisted red eyes, before I'm sucked into battle mode. Something tells me it might actually be to the end this time.