Hey there, Reader!
It's been a while, but I'm back!
There will definitely be returning fans who are fresh off my other story. If you haven't seen it yet, it's called Persona 3: Renegade Legends, a twist to P3 with a mostly OC cast. I finished the story earlier this year and hope to continue writing great stories as a continuing hobby. If all goes well, I can turn my talent into a profitable skill and teach readers everywhere that Satanic sorcery can save the world!
... Or I'll do just that but present it as something less inflammatory.
Anyways, this is the first story I've posted on this site in a while. I've been working on a completely new story (totally not fanfiction) that I started a few years ago and want to complete asap. I am aware that posting original work doesn't bode well for the author, since most readers on this site use the site to read works based on pre-established franchises.
So here's my proposal: I convert my story to Persona-esque terms, make it all tangible, and see how you like it.
I get that re-writing a story so dramatically may mitigate your enjoyment. So I'll be keeping a close eye on the reviews for this story. If it looks good to you all for the first seven chapters, then I'll keep posting. We'll see.
Enjoy!
Prologue
Dreamscape: Unknown time
The dry air blasted him in the face.
All around the boy, desert sands churned and shifted. Dust devils migrated as far as he could see. In all directions, a lone cactus just barely over the horizon was the only sign of life. This was the Wasteland, a desert that occupied thirty percent of the continent's landmass. And this was not the first time he found himself in this place.
Where do you think you're going? asked a voice.
He looked around. No one other than himself was within eyesight.
I said, where do you think you're going?
"I don't know," he said, just like he did in every other dream that resembled this one.
Feeling thirsty?
The boy then realized that his throat was parched. This was also part of the recurring dream.
How about some water?
As in every other dream, a pool of water appeared in front of the boy. Craving the very substance, the boy knelt to his knees and used his hands to scoop up the liquid essence of life. He greedily slurped the water from his palms.
How about you wash your face?
The boy then bent his head lower and saw his reflection in the water. He paused as soon as he saw the face staring back at his own.
What happened next was entirely new: Staring back at the boy was the face of a monster.
It had blue slits and LED bulbs where the boy's eyes should have been. Metal plating was grooved and cut where his skin should have been. Rows of shark's teeth were planted over the boy's jaw line. Instead of hair, there were only pistons, which emitted a blue glow and protruded out of the ends of his skull. What was worse, the face was looking right at him.
Not what you expected now, was it?
The boy stumbled backward, recoiling from the monstrous face. Though he had not satisfied his thirst, he bolted in the opposite direction, as far away from the freak as possible. He ran, feeling fatigue set into his body. First, his lungs burned, then his legs ached, and then his side further restricted his breathing. The boy had to stop running.
He turned around to see if anything was following him. Nothing was there.
He turned around once more. The beast was towering in front of him.
The boy then stumbled back, this time tripping over himself. The monster's features were even more horrendous up close. The beast stood with a permanent slouch in its back, the upper portion of its spine in a hunched position. It had metallic plating around its body, save for the areas where its joints needed to move. Its legs were shaped like that of a wolf, and it was standing on the balls of its feet and hunching over to maintain balance. But its arms, long claws covered in metal and blood, definitely showed that it was predatory.
You can't run from fate.
The monster then reached behind itself and produced a large sword, the length of the boy's body.
"What fate?" the boy exclaimed.
You must choose to exist or serve. Choose poorly, and you'll be dead before you know it.
The monster raised his blade.
Father would be most disappointed . . .