"ANOTHER DRAGON!?" Irumi shrieked, staring up at the hulking metallic form.
Akeno and Rias flinched back instinctively, shock written large on their faces at the sudden, imposing appearance. Yet, the shock quickly morphed into a kind of bewildered acceptance. With Makoto Yuki, the impossible was becoming routine.
Fafnir's massive, armored head lowered on a piston-like neck, bringing his glowing red optics level with the Boosted Gear's jewel. His metal jaw plates clanked as he tried to approximate a smile.
"Hiii Goch," the synthesized voice rumbled, trying for casualness and failing spectacularly. "Have you missed good old me?"
Silence hung heavy. Ddraig didn't respond immediately. When his voice finally emanated from the jewel, it was thick with disbelief and shock.
"Fafnir? Is that… you? What… what happened to you?"
"After Siiiegfried killed my fleshy bits," Fafnir replied, a plume of steam venting with a sharp hiss, "the Collective Unconscious… reshaped me. Made me suit the modern age, I gueeess. Gave me this shiny shell." He gestured vaguely with a massive, clawed metal limb.
"The Collective Unconscious?" Ddraig's confusion was evident. "What is that?"
Fafnir vented another huge cloud of steam, a mechanical sigh. 'Pffshhhhht.' "I gueeess…" he rumbled, the yellow light on his chest dimming slightly, "...you are not the Goch I knew after all."
With that final, disappointed statement, the massive metallic dragon dissolved into shimmering blue particles that flowed back into Makoto, vanishing as abruptly as he appeared.
"Fafnir! Come back!" Ddraig's voice boomed from the jewel, frustration and a strange note of loneliness cutting through the hostility. "I have not finished with you! Do you even know how long it has been since I spoke with another dragon who wasn't trying to rip my host apart?" There was no response. The jewel's glow pulsed once, angrily.
"He's gone," Makoto observed quietly.
"Wait!" both Irumi and Ddraig cried out simultaneously. Makoto looked at them expectantly.
"That… that wasn't a Sacred Gear!" Ddraig's voice held a new intensity, focused now on understanding. "How did you summon Fafnir? What manner of power is this?"
"It wasn't a Sacred Gear?" Irumi echoed, looking bewilderedly at Rias and Akeno, who both nodded confirmation.
"That was a Persona," Makoto explained. "Fafnir is one of mine."
Anticipating the inevitable flood of questions, he proceeded to give the same exact explanation he had provided to Rias and Sona days prior: the Velvet Room, the Wild Card, the power of Personas drawn from the sea of human consciousness, his role as a guest between realities.
He spoke of contracts, of the collective unconscious and how it shaped beings like Fafnir in this world, of his unique existence as a bridge.
"Is there… a 'me'? A Ddraig Persona?" The question from the jewel held a strange mix of curiosity and something akin to existential concern.
"Probably... I am not sure," Makoto answered honestly. "The collective unconscious holds archetypes of many powerful beings as far as I know."
The information overload was immense. The jewel's glow pulsed erratically. "This… this is too much to process," Ddraig declared, his voice sounding strained. "I require… rest." The crimson gauntlet dissolved from Irumi's arm, vanishing as quickly as it appeared, leaving her arm bare.
"Well," Rias said, breaking the heavy silence that followed, a genuine smile returning to her face, though her eyes held a new layer of wonder.
"Thank you again for coming, Yuki. Know that you're always welcome, but I really must speak with Irumi now about… well, about everything and even more."
04/11/2012, Velvet Room, Evening
The familiar, haunting melody of the Velvet Room greeted Makoto as he pushed open the heavy blue door. The air inside was perpetually cool, scented with old books and something indefinably melancholic. Elizabeth, seated elegantly at the table, looked up from a large, leather-bound tome, her golden eyes brightening.
"Welcome back, dear Guest," she chimed, her voice like silver bells. "A rather eventful day, I perceive."
Makoto offered a tired smile, sinking into the plush blue velvet chair opposite her. "Hi, Liz." The exhaustion of the day settled over him. "You have the Omnipotent Orb, right?" he asked, the thought surfacing amidst the fatigue.
Elizabeth blinked, then her expression shifted to one of theatrical chagrin. "Oh! My apologies! In the flurry of… other events, I quite forgot to return it!"
She reached into the folds of her blue dress and produced the smooth, perfect sphere, its surface shimmering with contained cosmic power. She placed it gently on the table before him.
"Thanks," Makoto said, picking up the Omnipotent Orb. Its familiar, thrumming energy was a small comfort. He tucked it securely into his own pocket, a reassuring weight.
"I took the liberty of organizing a meeting for you tomorrow," Elizabeth announced, closing her book. "The Councillor specifically requested an audience. He has matters he wishes to discuss." Her tone was light, but held an underlying seriousness.
Makoto nodded, absorbing the information. His gaze swept the room, noting the conspicuous absence. "Okay. Do you know where Ryoji is?"
Elizabeth's smile remained, but a subtle tension entered her posture. "He is… out," she replied, her voice carefully neutral. "The Councillor asked to meet him personally. At the church." She paused, letting the implication hang.
"The church where you confronted his Shadow."
Makoto's brow furrowed slightly. "Why there?" The location felt ominous, laden with painful memories.
Elizabeth merely offered an elegant shrug, her expression unreadable. "The Councillor's reasons are his own, dear Guest. I merely relay the message."
Makoto sighed, leaning back in the chair. The Velvet Room's strange peace, the soft blue light, the distant music… it was a stark contrast to the chaos outside. "Alright," he conceded. "I'll meet him tomorrow." He pushed himself up. "I think I need to cook something. Dinner?"
Elizabeth beamed. "An excellent idea! Sustenance after such exertions." As Makoto moved towards the small kitchenette area tucked into one corner of the impossible room, Elizabeth watched him interested, focused on his every movement, the melody of the room seeming to swell softly around them.