Sep. 1, Thorne Blackwood's Residence, Charles Street, Vancouver; Late Evening
Thorne was finally home, and with more questions than answers, as he had just experienced things literally materializing and vanishing before his very eyes. At the very least, he had discovered that the Fake Heather's 'ball' was scheduled for September 7th, and likely had something to do with school starting. He was sitting at his computer, browsing his social media pages, when he looked down at his phone.
That application… it was certainly mysterious. Perhaps it could be of use to him. He looked back up at his computer screen, then turned his eyes back to his phone. He turned it on and went to his messaging app, where he sent a new message to Heather.
"Do you have any plans on the 7th?" he asked her.
"Um, no," she replied. "The 7th is the first day of school, why would I make plans on such a busy day?"
"I dunno, but… your doppelganger told me her 'ball' was going to happen on that day," responded Thorne.
"That's weird," Heather replied. "My mom is taking me out for dinner… I don't want to go, but I'll get some good food shots, L.O.L."
"Have fun," Thorne sent, then closed his phone.
"Thorne!" screamed his grandfather. "Get down here!"
Thorne applied pressure to his temple. He got up and proceeded downstairs. "What?"
"It's supper time," his grandfather insisted. "Eat."
"What'd you make?" Thorne asked.
"Macaroni. Now eat."
"Uh, okay then." Thorne sat down at the table and dug into the pasta. It was well made, actually.
Sep. 1, Jimano's Italian Restaurant, Vancouver; Late Evening
"Isn't this nice, Heather?" her mom asked. "Going out for dinner with your good ol' mom?"
"Yeah, it's nice," Heather blankly replied.
"Heather…" her mom sighed. "What's wrong? You've been so… quiet lately."
"It's nothing, mom," Heather answered. "I'm just… stressed… I guess…"
"Over what, honey?" asked her mother.
"Over… school… I guess…" sighed Heather.
"I'm confident you'll do great," her mom smiled. "You've always done good in school."
"Yeah, but… I'm worried about… never mind…"
"Heather… I'm your mom, you can tell me."
"It's nothing, really," insisted Heather.
Her mom took a sip of the cold water that the waiter had given to her. "Oh, honey… I'm worried… is everyone treating you all right?"
"Yes, mom. Can we stop?" Heather groaned.
"Oh… all right…" her mother sighed. "Please eat tonight. You haven't been eating lately. You haven't been on one of those fad diets, have you?"
"Mom! I said stop!" Heather snapped.
"I-I'm sorry…" her mother apologized. "Do you know what you're going to order?"
"Give me a second, please," Heather harrumphed, attempting to stay composed.
Sep. 2, Heather Holland's Masquerade, Psykonet; Late Morning
Thorne had left a note on the counter saying that he would be out with a new friend, looking to find some new clothes for school. Obviously, that was a lie, since he was now inside the mystery mansion with the fake Heather in it once again.
He had a clear objective in mind, now. He somehow knew that if he could get inside that glamorous locked door, he would find answers as to what this fake Heather was on about.
Therefore, the objective was this: Find the key to get into the locked door.
Thorne thankfully remembered which rooms he had been in before. Therefore, he simply had to investigate new areas for clues, and of course, keys. He made his way to the main ballroom area. There were at least three hallways leading from the main ballroom. There was the one he had come out of, one across from the dance floor, and one to the right. His head shifted back and forth between the two hallways.
Suddenly, he noticed something high up on one of the walls. Above one of the picture frames adorning the ballroom walls, there was something black and sharp-edged. Upon closer inspection, it appeared to be… a security camera.
It was remarkably out-of-place against all of the glamorous, castle-like decorations in the area… had the false Heather installed security cameras because she was suspicious of him?
He heard the familiar footsteps of the ominous character's high heels. He ducked behind the door he was standing next to, but peered out just enough to see what would unfold.
'Heather' walked out from the hallway on the balcony floor. She seemed to also notice the security camera.
"Ugh," she groaned. "Why is everyone so concerned with what I do?" She sounded distraught. "All of this prying is going to ruin my masquerade ball!" she yelped. "Just look at that camera… it totally clashes with the picture frames… and I put so much work into plotting them out perfectly…"
Thorne slid back fully behind the cover of the door. He thought to himself… Heather's doppelganger wasn't the one who installed the security camera? Then who had installed it? And for what purpose?
The carbon copied Heather glared directly into the camera. "I'm fine! I swear! Stop grilling me! Hmph…" She proceeded down the stairs, still glaring at the camera. Thorne noticed a glow in her yellow eyes…
Thorne snuck out from behind his hiding spot, and confirmed that Heather had disappeared. Then, he sprinted across the entire width of the ballroom to the hallway on the other end. To his surprise, it led out into a courtyard garden.
There was a fountain in the middle of the pristine garden. However, Thorne immediately noticed that the sky looked nothing like it should… It was a very unnatural violet colour, with strange wisps circling around it instead of clouds or sunlight. It was as if the entire sky revolved around the mansion…
The outside walls of the mansion were just as glamorous as the inside, made of pristine maroon wood panelling and golden trim. There were windows around the courtyard, and each of the windows was made of iron bent into intricate floral patterns.
"Wow…" Thorne couldn't help but be impressed.
What he didn't notice, however, was that a pair of glaring, glowing golden eyes peered down at him from a window on the second floor.
Heather's copy turned around. In the room with her were several other figures. From their appearance, they seemed to be guards, dressed in the same red and gold scheme as the room they stood in. Their intricate outfits were somewhat dulled by their generic-looking masks, though. The masks looked like the ones worn by everyone in the paintings around the mansion, other than Heather herself.
"Thorne claims to be innocent, yet I'm suspicious…" Heather's copy snarled, looking back out the window as Thorne looked around. "He continues to come here and snoop around my ballroom, even after I've asked him to wait… It's unfortunate, but I'll just have to revoke his invitation…" She turned back to face the many guards whose attention was unanimously focused on her. She chuckled, "I love when people look at me…" Her face hardening, she continued, "You, as the guards of my ballroom and its quests, will find him, and dispose of him. Understood."
The guards gave a unanimous "Yes ma'am!"
"Good… we don't want any interruptions that could jeopardize my celebration."
With that, the guards, who were ominously lacking in distinguishable facial features, set out into the halls. The stakes were officially raised.
However, Thorne was wholly oblivious to what was being transpired against him. He continued to investigate. "It's a pretty garden… nice roses…" he muttered to himself. He took one of the roses in his hand and gave it a sniff. It smelled unlike a natural rose… instead, it smelled like a highly-concentrated perfumed. He coughed, not expecting such a strong scent from what otherwise seemed like an entirely natural flower.
There was a balcony that overlooked the courtyard, and lucky for Thorne, there was a stone staircase that led up to it. The railings of the staircase were entwined in flaccid vines that smelled like sweetened wine.
Thorne entered back into the mansion from the door on the balcony. "Hey," he sounded. "It's that locked door again…" He noticed that it appeared that he was standing inside a hall that connected to the one where he had confronted Heather's doppelganger.
"There's so many doors… at this rate, I'll never find anything…" he groaned.
He followed the hall back to the main ballroom. However, he stumbled as he walked into the ballroom itself. He gasped, yet cut himself off in trying to be silent.
There were people! Specifically, people in red and gold suits, and strange-looking hats.
He went to step back into the solitudinous hallway, however he ran into something.
"Ah!" he gasped, stumbling forward. He stumbled so far he nearly fell down the stairs!
"You," the figure he'd bumped into said in a flat tone. "Are you a spy?"
"A-a spy?" Thorne asked, chuckling awkwardly. "Of course not. That's ridiculous."
"Regardless, I have instructions to dispose of you," the faceless masked guard went on.
"Dispose of me!?" Thorne yelped. "Instructions from who!?"
"From the Hostess," the guard answered. "I will obey Her Beauty."
With that, the guard suddenly began to grow in size… Thorne watched in captivated horror as the uniform and the very skin of the guard tore apart. He winced as a new body crawled out gorily from the body of the faceless guard. The now-empty husk of the guard's body disintegrated into pixels, as if fading to dust.
Who now stood before Thorne was a tall, broad-shouldered man with pale indigo skin and an intricate outfit fit for royalty. Despite having a face, it was featureless, as the guard's had been, and on top of the man's head was a glamorous crown with jarring jewels embedded into it.
"I am Prince Charming. You will bow to me," the transformed guard ordered. "Then, you will fall at my blade." The transformed guard, claiming to be Prince Charming, unsheathed a sharp cutlass which sat at his waist.
Thorne yelled, and made a dash down the stairs, only to find the guards on the dance floor already having begun to transform as well.
Gruesomely, one of them transformed into a ghostly-looking horse. A golden hand ripped right through the chest of the third guard, followed by the rest of a golden body. A motionless statue soon pierced out of the torso of the guard.
"I am The Ideal," said the exaggerated female statue of gold. "You will fall before my influence."
"Oh my god…" Thorne gulped, unable to scream even though he wanted to. He found himself backing up right into the middle of a circle created by the three terrifying figures.
The statue who had called itself The Ideal, even without being able to move, created a ball of shadowy energy in front of its large chest. It launched the orb of darkness directly at Thorne. Thorne's eyes darted around the ballroom, looking for a way to escape the three enemies who were quickly closing in on him!
He dove out of the way of the ball of shadows, narrowly dodging it! It hit the ground, doing no damage to marble flooring but exploding into a radius of dark energy. Thorne watched the explosion in shock. The ghostly horse was now charging at him! He attempted to run, but found himself getting knocked back by an intense punch from the enemy who claimed to be called Prince Charming!
Thorne flew backwards, defenseless! He landed on his back on the ground, a tenderness already able to be felt in his chest. Prince Charming walked confidently towards his weak, shocked body. Prince Charming held his sword out in front of him.
The evil prince swung his sword down at Thorne! Thorne, petrified, threw his arm up in front of him, even though he knew it would do nothing to help him. Thorne shut his eyes in horror.
"Thorne…" a voice echoed through the walls. "Thorne. Awaken."
Suddenly, everything froze in time. Prince Charming's sword was only a few inches from Thorne's lifted arm. Thorne gasped, his throat too tight to scream, before he opened his eyes to find himself safe.
He looked around. Cautiously, he crawled backwards away from the enemy. He attempted to get up, but was still winded from the blow to the chest and could hardly raise himself to his knees.
"This adversity is where your path begins, not where it ends."
"W-who's there?" Thorne asked, panting painfully. However, he felt oddly safe.
"It is I, yourself. I am the truth within your heart. I am your identity."
Another figure appeared before Thorne. The figure was surrounded by an inviting azure glow. It was a tall man, with a blank face and ginger sideburns which connected to an intricately-styled head of soft ginger hair. There were two sleek pauldrons attached to the man's shoulders. Each of them had the symbol 'IIB' (or 2B) written on them, however the one on the right shoulder had the IIB symbol crossed out by intense-looking slash marks.
The man wore a stylish violet trench jacket with a high collar and an interesting bottom which flared out into what looked to be a skeleton of fabric. In his hand was a rapier with an intricate guarded handle. On the tip of the rapier was a skull, with a few scratch marks in it.
Most notably though, there was a visor that covered the man's eyes like sunglasses. It looked like a crown of gold, with jewels in it, however it fit on the figure's head like ski goggles. It didn't appear to be made of glass, though, so how could it be seen through? Reflective red blood was patterned on the man's sharp cheeks, as if the visor had caused the man's eyes to bleed.
"W-…" Thorne could barely form words. "Who are you…?"
"I am Hamlet, the Prince of Denmark. But more importantly, I am thou, and thou art I. I am your true self, Thorne. I am the identity you fight to express. From hereon, I am your Persona. And I could not be prouder for it."
"My Persona…?"
"Thorne, you are unique. Your identity cannot and will not be changed by the expectations of others. You are more powerful than what people think you should be. I've been waiting for you to awaken to me."
Thorne grinned as Hamlet faded. He felt a power inside him. "Persona!" he shouted, proud.
Suddenly, time flared back into motion like a bomb had gone off! A powerful blast erupted form Thorne's body, knocking back all three of the enemies! The air grew cold as shards of ice formed in it.
Hamlet appeared again, this time behind Thorne's shoulders. He let go of his skull-tipped rapier, and it hovered in the air around him. Thorne thrusted his arm forward, and Prince Hamlet did the exact same!
The ice shards that had formed in the air shot into each of the enemies, causing them evident pain!
"I will not die to you like you say I will! My life is mine to live, and no one's decisions have the power to challenge my agency of self!" Thorne shouted, looking smugly at the wounds his ice attack had inflicted on his enemies. "I am me!"
Prince Charming and the ghost horse enemy's blank eyes went wide, as did their mouths. The Ideal could not open her metallic mouth, but gasped instead.
"Did the boy just dare to remove his mask?!" Prince Charming asked, in utter shock.
"Don't be a fool," Thorne responded, filled with new confidence. "I never had a mask to wear in the first place! I refuse to hide behind a false identity…" He looked up at the chandelier above him as if it was the sun. "I will save you, Heather."
It wasn't until he had a moment to breathe that Thorne even realized he looked different. He looked much more like he belonged in a ballroom. His clothes had autonomously transformed into a stylish, form-fitted tuxedo, complete with luxurious-looking dress shoes. All in black, with the exception of a very comfortable white dress shirt. On top of that, though, a visor of cyan light had appeared in front of his face, like a holographic visor from a sci-fi movie!
"Wow, cool!" he noted. He adjusted the bow tie which had appeared around his neck. "I look like a spy!"
Prince Charming charged for Thorne, his bejeweled cutlass ready to strike. However, Thorne's holographic visor allowed him to predict the corrupt prince's next move!
"And… Counter!" he shouted, standing confidently with his arms crossed.
Suddenly, Hamlet was summoned behind him, just in time to use his rapier to slash Prince Charming's cutlass right out of his very hand! Following up with disarming the evil prince, Hamlet then kicked the enemy back with a strong armoured boot! Prince Charming was pushed back! When he landed on his back, he disappeared into an explosion of pixels!
"Nice!" Thorne self-congratulated, pumping his fist. He held out his hand, and a ball of icy cold sub-zero energy formed inside it. He looked between The Ideal and the yet-unnamed horse enemy. He launched the ball of sub-zero energy at the horse enemy, who was encased in ice as a result! The Ideal launched another show attack at Thorne! It made contact with him, causing him considerate pain for multiple seconds! However, Thorne, and Hamlet at his back, persevered, and went straight for The Ideal!
He reached down towards his hip, where he found exactly what he expected… a pistol! "Cool! My Persona gave me a gun!" As he dashed towards The Ideal, he readied himself to shoot the pistol. "Oh gosh," he panicked. "I've never fired a gun!"
He fumbled with the pistol, just long enough for The Ideal to shoot another ball of dark energy at him! He endured the pain, then fired the gun at The Ideal out of sheer spite.
Despite being made of gold, the bullet pierced the enemy. The Ideal tipped over, and fell helplessly to the ground. As The Ideal hit the ground, she shattered into many shards of gold, which then proceeded to depixelate, just like Prince Charming's body had.
The unnamed horse enemy looked at Thorne with terror in its eyes. It was frozen in ice, and Thorne was pointing a pistol at it. It was helpless to defend itself!
"Hm…" Thorne thought aloud. "I've got different plans for you."
Suddenly, the entire world around both Thorne and the enemy seamlessly transformed into a dark room… The only light was a dim, swaying light attached to the ceiling by a long chain, through which the wires were woven. There wasn't much decoration. Only an office plant, and a large executive desk in the middle of the room, with two chairs on either end. It was immediately recognizable. It looked exactly like an interrogation room from pretty much any crime movie!
Thorne wasn't disoriented by the relocation at all. The ice entrapping the enemy thawed, but they had nowhere they could run to. Not only that, but they had somehow become tied up at their limbs while the room had transformed.
"What do you want?" the horse asked, nervously looking around.
"Oh, so you can speak?" Thorne acknowledged. "That'll be helpful to you r case. Name?"
"I am the King's Horse," the enemy responded.
"The King's Horse, huh?" Thorne sat down in the chair on the side across from the tied-up hostage. "Tell me, what are you?"
"I am a Shadow, of course," the King's Horse answered, scoffing. "You didn't know that?"
Thorne pulled back on his pistol until the trigger made a click, symbolizing it was ready to be fired.
"You don't… know how to use that thing…" the King's Horse teased, attempting to verbally disarm Thorne. But it evidently didn't work.
"You just saw me use it," Thorne replied without much expression. "You're a Shadow…? I see… What is this place?"
"Well… we're in Heather's Headquarters… p-please don't shoot me."
"You attempted to murder me," Thorne reminded in the same unenthused tone. He mumbled to himself, "Heather's… Headquarters…?"
"I-it was an order…!" the King's Horse attempted to defend.
"Right, right… I'll let you go unharmed on one condition."
"A-anything!"
"No one ever hears about this."
"Deal!" the King's Horse enthusiastically agreed.
"And… money," Thorne added.
"That's two conditions!" the King's Horse whimpered.
"So?" Thorne chuckled, pointing his pistol directly at the hostage. "I don't have to let you escape alive in the first place. You should be thanking me."
"Y-you're… evil…" the King's Horse sighed.
"And you're not human," Thorne reminded. "And, again, you attempted to murder me."
"Fine!" the king's Horse reluctantly agreed. "How much?"
"I could be evil… but I'll ask for a measly… hundred C.A.D."
"Take it! Please, let me go!" Money materialized on the table between Thorne and the hostage.
Thorne scooped up the money and put it into the pocket of his tuxedo. "Thanks. Alright, fine, you can go." He went around and untied the bovine hostage. "Thank you for your cooperation."
As the Shadow dashed away as fast as it could on its rope-burned hooves, the interrogation room transformed back into the ball room it had been before. Thorne adjusted the cuffs of his tuxedo sleeves. "Wow," he chuckled, "I feel like a spy now too!"
