Vali froze. The three Cadres in the stands were equally paralyzed. This was not the Odin they knew of from diplomatic summits—the sometimes lecherous, often lazy, but generally predictable god of the North.
This was a primordial force, a merciless ruler from a more savage age. His aura was one of unquestionable dominion, of power that demanded obedience born not of respect, but of sheer, pants-wetting terror.
"Challenging another out of mere whim?" Odin's voice rolled across the arena like thunder. "I can respect the courage required. But more often than not, it is merely the hallmark of a profound fool."
Having delivered his judgment, the Persona's consciousness receded, its power remaining tethered to Makoto.
"Azazel?" Shemhazai whispered, his face pale. "W-what was that? It couldn't actually be... Odin, could it?"
"It was," Azazel confirmed, his own eyes wide with fascination.
"I've met the All-Father, Azazel!" Penemue insisted, her voice shaking. "They are nothing alike! The Odin I know radiates a calm, if mischievous, wisdom. This... this entity is darker. Older. Stronger." She couldn't bring herself to elaborate on the terrifying implications.
Vali, however, just let out a low, exhilarated laugh. "A God! Now that's an interesting Sacred Gear you've got!" He completely ignored Albion's screamed warnings inside his head, his battle lust overriding all sense of self-preservation. He launched himself forward again.
His attacks were a blur—wing slicing through the air, armored fists striking with concussive force. Makoto met them all, his movements economical and precise, the Deus Xiphos appearing in his hand to parry and deflect with sharp, clear rings of metal on metal.
"You even have a holy sword! This just gets better and better!" Vali laughed, increasing his speed. He feinted high, then teleported behind Makoto in a flash of light, his leg already in motion for a devastating kick.
Dozens of multi-layered magic circles, each a different color and emitting a unique harmonic hum, spiraled around his limb, layering enchantments of force, penetration, and destruction. A spectral, roaring head of a white dragon formed around his foot, the culmination of his Sacred Gear's and his own demonic power.
"Odin!" Makoto commanded.
The air screamed. Gungnir moved faster than sight, a lance of divine judgment. It didn't merely block the kick; it impaled Vali's leg, punching straight through all the layered magical defenses as if they were glass, shattering them into a thousand glittering, useless fragments. The spear pinned his foot to the arena floor with a sickening thud.
"While you are a degenerate in social conduct," Odin's voice echoed, dismissive yet faintly impressed, "you display a cunning and talent in combat that is... noteworthy. Be proud. I rarely offer praise to mortals."
The Persona vanished.
Vali grunted in pain, gripping his leg. The spear had ignored the Scale Mail's legendary defenses entirely.
'VALI, LISTEN TO ME NOW!' Albion screamed, a sound of pure panic.
'What? I'm having the time of my life! How often do you get to fight a god?!' Vali retorted, yanking his leg free. The wound was already closing due to his immense vitality. He launched back into the fray.
"Odin was right!" Vali shouted between exchanges of blows, his style becoming more fluid, adapting to Makoto's impeccable defense. "I was a degenerate for not asking your name. I'm Vali."
"Makoto Yuki."
"Tell me, Makoto—can I call you that?—I heard the Odin up in Asgard is a lot more... goofy than your comrade."
"They aren't the same Odin," Makoto stated, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world.
Then, he stopped purely defending. He began to counterattack. After deflecting a punch, he saw an opening.
"Ziodyne!"
Odin flashed into existence for a microsecond, just long enough to channel a cataclysmic bolt of lightning, thick as a tree trunk and blindingly white, directly at Vali.
{DIVIDE}
{DIVIDE}
{DIVIDE}
{DIVIDE}
Vali desperately divided the power four times in rapid succession, the effort immense. The bolt that finally struck him was vastly diminished, but it still sent him skidding backward across the floor, his armor smoking, every nerve ending shrieking in agony.
"Gah! It still hurts like hell even after four divides!" he grunted, shaking off the pain and leaping into the air.
'VALI, IF YOU DON'T STOP, I WILL FORCE A SHUTDOWN!' Albion threatened, truly desperate now.
'WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU TALKING ABOUT, ALBION? WE'RE JUST GETTING STARTED!' Vali roared back mentally before diving like a meteor, his body a spear aimed at Makoto's heart.
"Tetrakarn."
A shimmering, hexagonal barrier of orange light enveloped Makoto. Vali, committed to his attack, slammed into it at full force. His own power, magnified by his momentum and the Divine Dividing, was reflected back upon him with interest.
The recoil was monstrous. Vali was launched across the arena like a cannonball, a shocked grunt torn from his lips. He smashed into the far wall with a sound like a mountain cracking, the reinforced material spider-webbing with fractures around the impact crater. His Scale Mail flickered and dissolved, revealing his stunned form.
For a moment, there was silence. Then, a low sound started in Vali's chest. It grew, evolving into a full, unrestrained, and utterly exhilarated peal of laughter.
"AHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!" he howled, pushing himself out of the crater, bruised but far from defeated. "I FOUND IT! I FINALLY FOUND SOMEONE I CAN GO ALL OUT AGAINST!"
In the stands, the three Cadres stared, dumbfounded. "Azazel," Penemue whispered, "what did we just witness?"
"Vali is... happy?" Shemhazai said, unable to believe the sight of the perpetually scowling youth laughing with pure joy.
"You witnessed a fraction of the power of the boy to whom existence itself has entrusted its fate," Azazel said, his voice filled with a strange mix of awe and solemnity.
Makoto walked across the arena, stopping before Vali. He offered a hand. "Are you okay?"
"Better than ever," Vali replied, accepting the hand and pulling himself up. His grip was firm, his eyes burning with a new, fierce respect. "We're sparring again. Right?"
The intensity in his stare was overwhelming, more serious than any expression Makoto had ever seen, even on Mitsuru or Akihiko in their most focused moments.
'I misjudged the boy's character,' Odin admitted grudgingly.
'A common error, it seems. His will is pure, focused solely on the pursuit of strength,' Orpheus Telos mused.
'I knew it all along, my companions! A kindred spirit!' Robin Hood cheered.
'Heh. Not completely disgusting,' Lucifer conceded, a note of amusement in his voice.
"Okay," Makoto agreed with a long sigh.
A warmth bloomed in his chest, a familiar and welcome sensation followed by Elizabeth's voice.
I am thou, thou art I. Thou hast established a new bond. It shall become the wings of rebellion that breaketh thy chains of captivity. With the birth of the Star Arcana. Thou shalt have the Universe's blessing when creating Personas of the shining star.
Azazel approached them, a genuine smile on his face. "See, Vali? You can make friends when you actually try."
"Shut up, crow," Vali retorted, though there was no real heat in it now.
"Makoto, we need to get you back to Kuoh," Azazel said, his expression turning pleading. "If we're even a minute late, we'll never hear the end of it from a certain magical-girl-obsessed Satan."
"Yeah. I understand," Makoto replied.
"Wait," Vali interjected, his excitement dimming. "He's not staying here?"
"He is here as a guest. Now we must hurry; it's almost 8 pm. I have no desire to be lectured by a devil about my babysitting shortcomings, for fuck's sake!" Azazel groaned, already preparing another teleportation circle. The urgency was palpable.