Dear Reader,

Greetings. It's your Aigis here. Everybody in the house say 'what?'

...

I can't hear you, but I imagine you said 'what?' just now, which I appreciate. I am trying to build rapport with you, reader. It is very important to me that we are friends. The power of friendship is incredible. I wonder... if I keep writing to you and you remain a kindred spirit to my words and feelings, will the power of our friendship will transcend time and space? When I call on you in a time of need, will you answer? I would do it for you, so why don't you do it for me? Leap through the screen holding these words now, and appear before me!

It didn't work?

Oh.

Maybe it's too soon in our friendship for our bond to defy the natural laws of the universe. That is unfortunate. It worked for someone I know. It seems you are not him. I suppose that is not entirely your fault.

I have a lot to share with you in today's letter, so much so that I am unsure how to begin. I suppose it is best to take these things chronologically, though if I chose to tell you the Dark Hour is back now and then didn't explain anything until I found that out myself at midnight with Elizabeth, the pacing of my letter would be much more intriguing and mysterious. However, I've decided not to do that. I will tell you about my morning. I left you last watching Fuuka sleep, a simple pleasure of mine. She woke up at 7:30 when her alarm went off. I had known this would happen, knowing Fuuka's morning schedule, and moved into a corner of the room, facing the wall.

Part of the reason Fuuka was okay with me staying in her room without paying rent or anything was that I told her I could imitate rest by entering a low-power mode, so there would be nothing invasive in my sharing space with her. I'll admit to you, reader, that this was a lie. I have no operational capacity for a "low-power mode". I can only function in full power or in Orgia Mode. The recovery status I enter into after activating Orgia Mode cannot be wilfully accessed by my consciousness, the same way you cannot consciously decide to sleep and execute your rest like a command function. Despite being an unrelenting harbinger of mass destruction, I am really just like you.

Fuuka yawned, getting out of bed to shut off her alarm.

"Good morning, Ai-chan. Are you awake?'

I turned to her, but slowly, mimicking the stiffness of joints people seem to have when rising from their slumber. "Yes, Fuuka. Good morning."

She opened her curtains, letting in a warm morning glow of sunlight. It was a beautiful, brand new day.

"You'd better leave through here," Fuuka said. I nodded. Shirogane didn't know I was in the apartment, after all. I couldn't come back to the apartment until the afternoon if I wanted to speak to Fuuka there. So I leapt through the window then and there, counting on the jet propulsors embedded in my feet to kick in before I hit the ground. It doesn't really matter if I do or not, considering how durable I am, but Fuuka saw me faceplant the first time I made my dynamic exit and asked me not to do so again, saying that it looked like 'a disturbingly casual rendition of a suicide'. I suppose she would know.

I wasn't used to being out of the apartment this early, as Shirogane has only just moved in, and I've never needed to leave so soon. The morning air was brisk and pleasant, suggestive of the infinite possibilities a day can bring. I got bored pretty fast.

You know, reader, I've just realised I've never told you what city I'm living in. No wonder, then, that I send these letters to you and receive no reply. Part of me is still in Iwatodai, and I view this place simply as 'the new city'. This city is much larger. It is called Tokyo, if you are familiar with it. It does not yet feel like home. Some things are not so different; I still use trains as a regular source of public transport. The trains here are usually much more crowded, but that does not affect my fierce enjoyment of the experience. The Chagall Café near the apartment is identical to the one in the Paulownia Mall. It's a busy city, but Iwatodai didn't seem quiet when I was there. I suppose I just struggle to fill my days because I no longer go to school, and don't have to worry about fighting Shadows.

Tokyo is filled with millions of fascinating human beings, each with their own individual vibrancy, uniqueness, that I want to grasp for myself. And yet some days I feel no fondness for anything at all. There are so many strangers it is difficult to imagine, to understand, the remarkable stories everyone I pass could tell. There is so much to look for in this city that sometimes I don't know what to do. Those were the kinds of thoughts I had while I spent the morning hours idly roaming the streets.

Do not fret, reader. It is not in my interest to tell you about the occasionally mundane realities of my experience. I would not want to read about them myself. It is boring to read about someone being bored. Next time, I will simply lie to you.

A hobby of mine is a search for empty space. The city is busy and crowded, so there isn't much of it. I live among humans and want them to accept me as human, so maybe I shouldn't complain, but occasionally I feel the urge to act in manners humans seemingly cannot abide by. It was much simpler in Tartarus. Nobody thought the way I ran down the corridors of that hell-palace strange. I cannot act on such harmless urges in Tokyo. Fuuka once watched me run down the street to greet her after her classes, and a trashcan lay in my path. In my haste, I knocked it skyward, several thousand feet into the air, until it was nothing but a dot in the skyline above. She became somewhat afraid the same thing could happen if I were to run down a busy street and into a passerby.

The order was given: no running. I understand her trepidation, but wonder if it not dissimilar to asking a bird not to fly. Unbeknownst to her, I search for empty spaces, safe avenues to fulfil myself. So if you see Fuuka around anytime, reader, don't tell her a thing or I'll come after you and burn your house down. That is not a threat, but a promise. Threats are bad and promises are good, so there is no need to be alarmed, reader.

The search occupied me nicely. Purpose is palliative against time. Swiftly, I moved from one objective to the next: meeting Elizabeth before the full moon. She was waiting for me at our designated meeting place, outside Chagall Café.

The clock struck twelve. Twelve, and then thirteen. The sky turned an acrid green and the moon above me lingered, huge and ominous. There was a familiar scent to the air, a coolness of temperature. The Dark Hour.

Initially, I was somewhat alarmed.

"WHAT'S GOING ON? DID YOU DO THIS? WHY DID YOU DO THIS?!" I asked Elizabeth, trying to keep calm, my hands on her shoulders, giving her a gentle shake to assist with information-gathering.

She was unfazed, that all-knowing and unknowable smile affixed on her face. "It's back, baby.' She leaned in close, whispering. "But not as you remember it."

The moon darkened above us. I heard writhing and shrieking as a black mass congealed, solidified and dropped onto the street in front of us. A Shadow...but this one was indeed different. A figure coated in black pus, the formation of the collective unconscious...it assumed my shape. It remained faceless, being only an outline of my body, and stood still, waiting for something. This was Elizabeth's cue. Breaking free from my grip as if I never really held her in the first place, Elizabeth hoisted a large blue boombox that had appeared from nowhere onto her shoulder.

"It's time, Aigis. Dance!"

It is difficult to summarily describe what follows. I cannot explain it myself. Music began to play from Elizabeth's boombox, and indeed, I began to dance. I did not know how to dance. Or, more accurately, I did not know that I knew how to dance. For dance I did, and quite gracefully, if I say so myself. My body moved to the beat in rhythms entirely unconsciously followed, yet consciously enjoyed. It was a wonderful experience. At the climax of the song, I felt a power I hadn't needed in a long time.

Athena.

My Persona appeared before me, and in an instant, Athena cut the Shadow in twain. [That is another way of saying 'two' that sounds appropriate in the context of cutting something.] The danger had passed. The Dark Hour dissipated as quickly as it'd arrived. I didn't know how to react to what'd happened, but I knew Elizabeth knew more than I did.

"Aigis! You danced magnificently. It made me so happy to see! Just like old times..."

"I do not remember knowing how to dance, but it came so naturally. What just happened?"

"Of course—you've forgotten. I forgot that you'd forgotten. It's a good thing you did not forget to remind me that I'd forgot that you'd forgotten! Back when you explored Tartarus with your friends, I summoned all of you into a dream and taught you the remarkable power of dancing."

"...why?"

"Why? Because! Because..." She put a finger to her chin, stroking it in thought. It was best not to press her on these things.

"Why is the Dark Hour back now? And how did I defeat the Shadow by dancing?"

"It's not back—not really. I made some arrangements, called in a few favours, and got you a very special treat. Every full moon—for one night only!—Shadows will return and you'll have the chance to dance again! They'll only come for you, Aigis. You seemed so sad, so I thought—this'll help!"

And that, reader, is all I know. It would be rude of me to reject Elizabeth's gift, but I do not know what to make of it yet. Dancing was a lot of fun, though. Does dancing clash with my objective to lead a human life? I felt a kind of euphoria upon destroying that Shadow that seemed altogether primitive. The joy of a machine, and not a person. But the joy was my own all the same. This is indeed a puzzle. Whatever happens, I hope you can continue to cheer me on.

Aigis