Chapter 1: Crisis of Circuitry
Amidst the nightlife of the city of Iwatodai, a young, brown-haired boy in his pre-teens sat on his chair in front of a desk. He wore black shorts, an opened black jacket and an orange sweat-shirt underneath, with a black tie and white shirt visible only due to the lack of a hoodie over his hed. His door, large and brown, was left open slightly.
He sat on a chair, his torso hunching forward. His left forearm laid on the desk in front of him, his right elbow balancing itself on the support beam of his leather seat. He had seven spikey strands of hair portruding forward, although no gel container was located on the desk. His right hand cluthed a gray pen, the tip scribbling on a journal at the center of the desk.
"Ken!" a male voice bellowed from outside the boy's room. "You need to see this!"
Ken Amada furrowed his brow in confusion and twitched his head in the direction of the door, while keeping his eyes on the journal. He finished answering the last math problem of the page and signed his name at the top of the page, closing the journal.
Ken closed his eyes as his chest heaved upward, ensnaring the tip of the door with his fingers as he pushed it aside. He walked down the stairs, voices from the television echoing in the hallway of the house. The volume grew louder as Ken maneuvered closer to the living room.
His father knelt in front of the television, his eyes staring at the screen in alarm and his mouth gaping at the scene. Ken inhaled sharply, exhaling nervously as he turned his eyes to the screen.
The camera stared at the remains of a massive compound, alternatively colored white and gray. Wisps of smoke fluttered in the wind, fire engulfing the building. The roof at the front section had collapsed, caving much of the building into the ground. Dozens of cars were crushed by falling debris, ensnared by the fires or caught in the explosion. A firetruck was smashed by a wrecked, detached piece of metal belonging to the building; several firefighters were pinned by the ruins in front of the truck.
Other firefighters were concentrating their hoses to the center of the building, where the flames were at their strongest. Suited residents of the building were scurrying outside, through the exits at the back; police officers were escorting them to various ambulances. Reporters were interviewing the relatives of the residents as well as some of the healthier survivors.
Ken contorted his face in shock and disgust, rubbing his palm over his lips as he breathed rougher and rougher. His father was texting family members, asking for further input and checking if anyone was near the explosion. He sighed in relief as he learnd none in the immediate family was hurt.
"None in our family was near the explosion," Mister Amada said, causing Ken to smile contently.
"... hundreds injured, undetermined number killed," a reporter narrated the scene off-camera, prompting both Amadas to look at the television.
"Cause is unknown," the reporter continued, his voice stern and dispassionate. "Survivors generally speak of fires starting without gas nearby."
"Why would there be any traces of gas in a concern, anyway?" Ken's father asked rhetorically, huffing at the screen.
"Huh?" Ken mumbled blankly, paying attention to the screen while listening to his father ramble.
"They'll explain," Mr. Amada replied, pointing to the screen.
On cue, the reporter continued talking. "... headquarters of the Nanjo Group resumes its over an hour-long evacuation, the fire refusing to let up."
People were being carried on stretchers, most having suffered from fourth degree burns. Limbs, torsos and crotches were charred with eschar, extending into underlying fat, muscle and bone.
"Among the deceased are... Matsuoka, butler to Nanjo's Chairman and..." The noises from the scene drowned out most of the sentence as spoken by the reporter.
Mister Amada shook his head in disapproval. "Nobody liked him, but not to this level," Mister Amada lamented somberly.
The scene switched to one of the surviving employees, who was being interviewed. It was a middle-aged man who kept his left eye shut, blood dripping from his left cheek as a medic patched him up. He twitched and groaned sporadically, tinges of pain shooting up his nerves with each pinch.
"... Nanjo's entire executive core was located in that building," the employee explained, referring to the burning headquarters three hundred meters away from his location.
"The... ow..." the man grit his teeth, clenching his hands into a fist to alleviate the pain.
"The subsidiaries and such still exist, yeah, as are their managers, but Nanjo's top-level executives were in headquarters for an annual meeting." He fixed his right eye at the interviewer, continuing with his recolllection.
"I was one of the liaisons between the executives, top, mid and low-level alike, so I was escorting my own boss to the meeting." Said liaison breathed heavily, as the medic wiped his brow with a paper towl.
"We weren't able to get there," the liaison explained. "We were hit by objects hurled around the lower half of the building, in a shockwave from the explosion."
The liaison leaned his torso forward, strain overtaking his shoulders and back. The medic massaged the liaison's shoulders to keep the liaison comfortable.
"... my boss wasn't able to make it," the liaison's eye turned to the ground, his voice cracking. He swallowed audibly, clearing his throat.
"I dunno how, but when I got up after I was hit, my boss was underneath a bridge from one of the upper levels." The liaison's eye grew watery, his voice continuing to crack despite the ease with which he finished the sentence.
"Pieces of the broken bridge hit me," the liaison swallowed again, straightening his torso. "I couldn't even count the others hit or crushed by that bridge."
The scene switched to a fleet of ambulances at the corner of Nanjo headquarters, several hundred meters away from the building itself. These people had glass, shrapnel and embedded into their backs, chests, arms, hands, legs or necks, several screaming and writhing in pain as medics tended to their wounds.
"...people are still trapped inside Nanjo HQ," the narrating reporter chimed in, her voice still stoic.
"I'm not sure Nanjo can wheather the storm," a Nanjo Group employee interrupted the reporter, the scene transitioning to another interview.
"Could there have been foul play invovled?" asked the interviewer.
"Why would someone assassinate an entire corporate board when the concern already lost a lotta money beforehand?" The female employee shook her head slowly, taking care not to hurt herself as her wounds healed.
"You can damage a company by other means, and that was done by the company itself." The female employee cocked a glare at the ruined headquarters.
"Our stocks took a nosedive after a bad investment, but nobody agreed on why," explained the female employee, looking to be middle aged.
"Our Chairman called for a meeting between all administrators, and there was a lot of shouting heard even from where I was at." The female employee had her face and arm bandaged, but had no problems breathing or speaking.
"I was on break, so I left to go somewhere quieter, and I still got hit by some office appliances and shrapnel." The female employee winced a bit, but remained straight-laced.
"You lucked out, evidently," the interviewer added, trying to lighten the mood.
"Just barely, you mean," she retorted stoically, her eyes looking over the dozens more being put into ambulances.
"You know..." Ken interjected nervously. "This isn't the sorta stuff you should show your son."
His father looked at him incredulously. "You're mature enough not to let this traumatize you." Mister Amada crossed his arms, furrowing his brow.
"Besides, it might affect you," Mister Amada warned. "I technically work for Nanjo, since I'm part of their subsidiaries." Ken shrugged, turning his attention back to the television.
"...Chairman of Nanjo Group, Kei Nanjo, has been proclaimed dead on arrival of ambulance," the reporter said somberly.
"Fourth degree burns on his upper body, from the face to the waist," the reporter cringed at the details of Kei Nanjo's death.
"That means Yamaoka's dead, too..." Mister Amada muttered under his breath, rubbing his chin astutely.
"Yuya Narumi, the CEO, and Jihei Suzakuin, the COO, have been discovered," the reporter interjected, snapping Mister Amada from his thoughts.
"... Suzakuin was impaled through the sternum and the naval by shrapnel," the reporter continued. "Narumi was burned to the bone - DNA analysis confirmed identity."
Ken and his father both cringed at the details of the deaths, but kept watching. There was a notice at the news bar below the headlines, stating the casualties list as well as the arrival of further firefighters and police officers.
"How are they able to get there so quick?" Ken queried, raising his brow at the amount of law enforcement and firefighting squads already at the scene.
"The Nanjo Group owns most of them," Mister Amada explained. "Kanagawa, Yamanashi, Shizuoka, Ishikawa, Nagano and Nigata are among the Prefectures under their industrial and corporate control."
"They're one of the few family-based concerns left in Japan," another surviving employee interjected from the screen, unwittingly finishing Mister Amada's point.
"I think they can handle it in the long run, but administration's fucked right now," the survivor rolled his shoulders backward to help his strained muscles.
"I can't tell if it was an accident or an attack," the employee shook his head irritably.
"I think the administrators were wasting money on SEBEC products that were only cool in theory," the employee admitted with an air of impunity.
"SEBEC?" Ken asked, looking to his father.
"Saeki Electronics, Biological and Energy Corporation, headed by some rich blonde named Kaoru," was his answer.
A loud rattling was heard from the direction of the door, startling Ken. His father signaled for Ken to run to his room. Mister Amada reached for a knife at the kitchen, which was in front of the living room, and looked out the window. Nothing could be seen. Another rattle was heard, this time sounding like chains clanking.
Sweat dripped from both Amadas' faces, Ken's father nervously shaking his hand as he looked through the door. Ken himself, while not nervous, held his Evoker with a steadier grip. Mister Amada peaked his eye at the small, circular glass at the door, seeing nothing but a large mass of gray.
An incendiary bullet jettisoned through the door and burrowed into Mister Amada's forehead, propelling him to the ground. His face burned from the inside-out, the flesh charred beyond repair.
"OTOU-SAN!" Ken screamed out, pointing the Evoker to his head and pulling the trigger. A sphere of light lue energy surrounds the boy, as Kala-Nemi charges foward, running over the couches, chairs and desks as its enlarged, metallic shoulders spun around.
A three-foot long gun barrel points to the Persona and opens fire, incendiary bullets severing the arms from Kala-Nemi; who falls to the ground helplessly. As it looks to the sharpshooter, all it could see were chains and levitating coat-tails all around its body.
"Reap...er..." was what Kala-Nemi could say before three more bullets pierced its neck, severing its head as the flames burnt its thick armor.
Ken, undaunted, ran up to the Reaper and picked the knife from the ground, tears running down his eyes as he grit his teeth in equal parts horror and rage. The cold steel collided with the gray metal of what turned out to be a spikier-looking revolver.
The coat-tails slammed themselves onto Ken, pushing him so far away that he hits the stairs, groaning in pain. Ken grasps his Evoker and points to his heart; this one unleashed the weaker, but deadlier Nemesis. Charging at the Reaper, Nemesis grabbed onto the Reaper and descended its saw onto him, coming into contact with the head, but found no effect. The Reaper grabbed onto Nemesis' left wrist, his arm into a V-shaped formation as he pulled on Nemesis' arm, severing it from the socket.
Broken wires and clockwork fell onto the floor, leaving Nemesis to fall at his side. The Reaper raised its right hand at him and fired an extra four rounds onto Nemesis' face and saw, the Persona's lifeless body slumping over the floor. Before Ken could react, the Reaper elevated his right hand and fired a bullet into Ken's shoulder, stomach and neck. Blazing fire charred Ken's skin as his head slumped backwards, the back of his neck hitting the rim of a staircase, cracking the spinal cord.
Raising his left hand, the Reaper directed his palm to the revolver, levitating it from the floor and latching onto his hand. The Reaper's long, skeletal fingers ensnared the butt of the gun and grazed the trigger. The sharpshooter twirled both guns forward, stopping as he grabbed the chambers; the spikey barrels pointed to his wrists. Cocking his palms back and portruding the wrists forward, the revolvers were slipped into his black sleeves. Absorbing the contact, the Reaper swung his hands backwards, watching Nemesis and Kala-Nemi dissolve into the atmosphere.
Footsteps from concerned neighbors and law enforcement prompted the Reaper to leave the scene, turning his cloak pitch-black to blend with the darkness. None were able to see him. As he hovered over the ground, he spotted a gray-haired, middle-aged man with olive skin and a striped black suit. It was Detective Kurosawa, who squinted his eyes at the corner of the house.
Furrowing his brow, Kurosawa chose to brush it off, preferring to deal with his task at hand. Nevertheless, as Kurosawa walked into the house, the Reaper's dark, demonic baritone beamed into his head.
All Personae are henceforth banned from existence.