Marcus slipped into his seat on the train, crossing his ankles in an effort to take up less space. The trains in Japan were crowded and busy, and locals did not appreciate being accidentally bumped and jostled by tourists.
Yet despite the slightly chaotic big-city atmosphere of Tokyo, Marcus loved Japan as much as he had always believed he would. The bright lights on Nakamise Shopping Street, the loud conversations between vendors and buyers at the Mottainai Flea Market, and the bustling crowds combined to make him feel more at home than he ever had in the United States. At six foot one, Marcus was much taller than most of the locals and (like many non-locals) he received occasional curious stares because of his height, his foreign status, and his muscular figure, but for the most part everyone was polite and hospitable. He was starting to think he never wanted to return home. This had been a dream-like escape from the pressures of his life back in America.
He had never felt so relaxed, comfortable, and content.
He pulled out his phone and fiddled with it idly. No one was standing near him, so he felt comfortable swinging his feet from side to side at the ankles and looking at the dark brown boots he was wearing. He had seen a pair of yellow suede women's boots with high, thin heels in a shop window earlier that day and had been transfixed, but he hadn't dared to stare too long. Even in Japan, halfway across the world from his home, he wasn't comfortable revealing that part of himself to strangers.
The train pulled out of the station, picking up speed rapidly. The alternating darkness and light of the Tokyo underground metro system zoomed past, and Marcus let the now-familiar rhythm lull him into a sense of deep calm and relaxation. It was now late evening, and he was on his way back to his hotel to get something to eat.
As his eyes began to slip closed against his will, his phone lit up with a text message. Marcus squinted at it curiously. It was from a number he didn't recognize. He tapped on it gently with his finger to open it.
It was an invitation to download an app called Metaverse, with no information about the app's features or whether or not it cost money. Marcus had never heard of anything like this. Companies didn't usually advertise their product so directly, but he supposed it could be a new marketing campaign. Either way, they had his attention. He had another ten minutes before he had to disembark and this seemed like as good a way as any to pass the time, so he clicked on the app.
Then the world melted away.
It happened slowly at first, as if the surrounding colour and sound were being sucked down a bathtub drain. Soon the process picked up speed, and Marcus found himself falling through a strange, liquid darkness filled with distant echoes. Before he could even open his mouth to scream, his feet hit solid ground.
He stumbled, unprepared for such a hard landing, and fell onto his back. Pushing himself upright to crouch on his hands and knees, he looked around frantically.
At first he thought perhaps the metro had been the victim of some kind of terrorist attack and he had been thrown from the train, because the world around him looked somewhat like the subway system under Tokyo. Branching off in all directions were maze-like tunnels outfitted with wooden train tracks, and Marcus was stricken with the eerie sense that if he were to travel down any one of them, he might never find his way back.
Taking a deep breath to steady himself, he took a more careful look around and gradually grew certain that this wasn't the Tokyo subway. The train tracks were old-fashioned and worn, and they were surrounded by bars and chains which gave the place a prison-like atmosphere. He got to his feet carefully, feeling a little lightheaded.
"Hello?" he called, dismayed by the loud echo of his own voice. "Is anyone there?" For a moment, there was no sign that anyone had heard him. Panic was rising in his chest. He was about to call out again – or maybe scream, he wasn't certain – when he saw red, veiny, glowing cracks spreading across the shadowed wall across from him.
Marcus stared at the cracks curiously as they grew and merged with each other, forming a pattern that looked like a spider's web. He put his hand to his eyes and rubbed them, and when he removed his hand the web was still there. I'm losing my mind, he thought. I'm sitting on the subway right now and hallucinating all of this, and everyone around me is wondering who let the crazy guy on the train.
As he watched the cracks glowing and pulsing, dark figures began to emerge from the shadows.
Marcus backed away instinctively, his heart pounding so hard he could feel it in his throat. At first he thought these things were people; they were shaped like humans, with arms and legs and heads. But they were dark and seemed to flicker in and out of existence, and their faces were covered with large bird masks. Their unseeing eyes gazed at him.
"Back off!" Marcus shouted, holding his fists in front of him. He was tall and strong and wasn't used to feeling physically helpless, but these creatures were advancing on him steadily.
He counted at least twenty of them.
Though he looked around desperately for an escape route, he could see nowhere to run where these shadows wouldn't follow him. Instinctively, he knew they could catch him no matter how quickly he moved.
He was trapped and there was nothing he could do about it.
But as he stood there uselessly, watching the closest figure move slowly but surely towards him, he felt something shift in his gut. Tremulous fear was replaced by hot, molten anger. He had done nothing to deserve this. He had not asked to be here. All he had done was click on an app and now he was stuck in an underground prison. Once again, he was being taken advantage of and hurt and threatened for doing nothing but existing.
So he was not going to stand here and take whatever these creatures gave him.
Before he could think better of it he darted forward, running for the closest shadow. He struck out at it with his fist and it backed away, its bird mask dissolving.
Horrified, Marcus was confronted with his own yellow-eyed face staring back at him.
"Marcus," the creature whispered. The other shadow people surrounded them, and Marcus somehow felt his own name leave all of their lips and slide over his skin, trickling down his spine and making him shiver.
"What are you?" Marcus snapped, trying to keep the tremor from his voice.
"I'm you," the creature replied and Marcus recoiled at the sound of his own voice coming from its mouth. "Or the worst parts of you, anyway. I'm your sadness, your fear, your self-doubt.
I'm the part of you that's afraid you'll never find what you want and that you'll be alone forever.
And it's tempting, isn't it? Are you willing to resist?"
Yes," Marcus said immediately. He was staring, mesmerized, into the yellow eyes of his own face, and his own words seemed to reach him from a long way off. "I am."
As soon as he finished speaking he felt something cool slip over his face, and he lifted a hand to touch his forehead. Where before there had been skin now sat something hard and smooth that extended over half his face.
"A mask," the creature across from him said. "A physical manifestation of the one you wear in the real world. Take it off and everything will change."
Marcus lifted a hand to yank the mask off his face, and cried out in surprise when it pulled his skin along with it. A sharp pain shot through his cheek where the mask was being ripped away.
"It's stuck," he said.
"Yes," the creature replied.
Gritting his teeth, Marcus pulled again. The pain was nauseating, and he gasped and groaned as he peeled the mask away from his face. He broke out in a cold sweat and ground his teeth together so hard he thought he felt one loosen, but he kept go
Gritting his teeth, Marcus pulled again. The pain was nauseating, and he gasped and groaned as he peeled the mask away from his face. He broke out in a cold sweat and ground his teeth together so hard he thought he felt one loosen, but he kept going. With one final, desperate tug and a scream of agony, he detached the mask from his face, feeling the warm wetness of blood trickling down his neck. Gasping, he held it up in front of him and saw that it was swathed in black silk with white lace trim. It was also covered in blood and bits of skin.
"Done," Marcus managed to gasp through the agony in his face. "It's off."
The shadow didn't answer. Instead, it began to slowly change. It grew taller, more slender, and more solid. A sword appeared in its hand and long waves of golden hair began to sprout from its head. It was a woman now, clothed in green and black armour and high, black boots.
"Who are you?" Marcus asked, but this time there was no tremor of fear in his voice.
The woman smiled. "I am Morrigan, my dear. But I am your Persona too, which means I am also still you." Grinning, she hefted her sword and drew another one out of the scabbard at her waist. She tossed it to Marcus, who caught it easily. Hesitantly he hefted it in his hand, testing the weight and balance, and found to his surprise that it felt like a natural extension of his arm. "Let's finish these things off, shall we?"
The shadow people converged on them instantly, and Marcus turned and swung at one of them with his sword. He was acutely aware of Morrigan next to him, more so than he was usually aware of other people. They weren't touching, but he could feel every movement she made, could hear her heart beating in his own ears. He could feel it rattle his bones when her sword struck something. Her strength was flowing into him like water, and his strength into her.
Marcus and Morrigan were moving separately, but they were one.
Though he still felt disoriented, Marcus had never felt so strong in his life. It seemed that a dark, heavy part of him had been torn away along with that mask, and what was left over was strong, quick, and confident. He had never held a sword until this moment, yet he wielded this one easily and was fascinated by its deadly arc as it slashed through the shadow people surrounding them. With each creature he defeated he felt stronger, and soon his blood was pulsating with power. His very bones were singing in triumph at his newfound strength. A shadow lunged towards Morrigan and he stabbed it clean through. Another tried to strike his head and Morrigan smacked it with the pommel of her sword. They whirled and charged together, neither receiving a single scratch, until there was nothing left to fight and they were standing back to back in a silent room.
Marcus wiped the sweat from his brow, breathing heavily. He turned to ask Morrigan what would happen now, but when he looked over his shoulder she was gone.
His stomach jolted unpleasantly. He had felt safe with her here. Fortunately the sword she had given him was still in his hand, the weight of it steady and reassuring. "She will return when you need her."
Marcus jumped and turned, raising his sword. Barely three feet away stood a tall woman with thick, dark red hair and big dark eyes. She wore thigh-high black boots and a skin-tight body suit under a long white fur coat. She was breathtakingly beautiful, especially in those boots that hugged her shapely calves and thighs, and for a moment Marcus was too taken aback to speak.
"Like my boots?" she asked, and Marcus looked away in embarrassment. "Don't be shy," she said. "There's nothing wrong with that. I'm flattered. But I don't think you've noticed yet that you've got some of your own."
Marcus looked down at his body and his heart picked up speed. Where before he had been wearing a simple black t-shirt, blue jeans, and plain brown work boots, he now wore a skintight suit of his own. It was made of dark green leather so supple and well-fitted that he hardly felt it where it hugged the lines and curves of his body. A scabbard sat comfortably at his hips, ready for him to sheath the sword in his hand.
Of greater interest to Marcus, however, were the boots. They were black with what looked to be two-inch heels, and they extended from his toes to the middle of his thighs. They were tight enough to reveal ripples of muscle in his legs when he moved, but they weren't restrictive or uncomfortable. On the contrary, he had never worn anything so perfect. These boots had been made for him.
When he looked back up at the woman, she was smiling fondly. "I am Mitsuru Kirijo," she told him. "What's your name?"
"I'm Marcus," he said, voice filled with wonder. "What is this place?"
Mitsuru's smile faded slightly. "You're in the Metaverse," she said. "It is a reflection of the real world, but it defies real-world logic. It forces us to face our subconscious and to confront the best and the worst parts of ourselves."
Remembering the yellow-eyed version of himself from earlier, Marcus repressed a shudder. "But I don't – "
The expression on Mitsuru's face changed and Marcus turned instinctively, lifting his sword again. Behind him were two more shadow people, converging on the two of them rapidly. Before he could move, a blast of silvery light lit up the room and one of the shadows fell to the ground, encased in ice. Undeterred, its partner continued on, and Marcus swung at it. It ducked and went for his head, and Mitsuru leapt forward to slash at it with a thin, long-handled saber, her face overtaken by a fierce, battle-hardened grimace. Recovering quickly from his shock, Marcus stabbed the creature through the back as Mitsuru chopped off its head.
They both stood still for a moment. Marcus continued to hold his sword aloft.
"How often will that happen?" he asked.
"Many more times if we stay here," Mitsuru answered. "Come with me. I'll take you somewhere safe. I'll explain everything to you." She held out her slim, soft-looking hand and he took it, curling his fingers around hers. Her skin was warm.
Marcus felt himself falling and the world melted away once again.
They were back in the underground metro system in Tokyo, and the real world seemed bright and loud after the darkness of the strange place they had just left behind. To his disappointment, Marcus was back in his regular clothes, including his simple, low-heeled boots. Mitsuru's outfit had changed too, though hers was far more chic than his; she wore a black pencil skirt, a pinstriped blouse with a large red bow, and understated black boots that rose to just below her knees.
Mitsuru began to walk and Marcus followed her, hoping desperately that she was trustworthy. He was exhausted and confused after everything that had transpired. He wanted nothing more than to sit down somewhere calm and to finally begin to understand and piece together the events of the past hour.
Fortunately, they soon ended up in what looked like the courtyard of a massive office building. Stone columns rose into the air on either side of them and Marcus looked up in awe, but Mitsuru walked forward determinedly without appearing to notice anything about their surroundings. Her pace was so quick that even Marcus, who had long legs, had to hurry to catch up with her.
Mitsuru led Marcus through wide glass doors into the lobby of the building, which was filled with people in business attire walking in various directions with expressions of serious concentration, many of them carrying briefcases or paperwork. Everyone they passed nodded to Mitsuru respectfully.
"Are you an executive or something?" Marcus asked her, and she laughed softly.
"I'm the owner of the company," she replied.
Marcus raised his eyebrows at her as they stepped onto a huge glass elevator, which immediately sped upwards. "Oh. I'm sorry, but… what exactly is this company?"
"We deal with dull financial things, mostly," she said. "My true passion is the Special
Extracurricular Execution Squad, which fights Shadows."
Feeling very surreal, Marcus asked, "Are Shadows those things we fought back in the metro?"
"Yes," she said. The elevator came to a smooth stop and Marcus looked down past his feet through the glass floor to see that the lobby was nauseatingly far below them. Mitsuru stepped off the elevator and he hastened after her, following her down a long, brightly-lit corridor. "But that wasn't the metro, at least not the way you mean. That was Mementos. It's an incarnation of the Collective Unconscious. It's the center of the Metaverse." "But I don't understand how I ended up in the Metaverse in the first place."
Mitsuru stopped at a tall, dark mahogany door and produced a key card from the belt at her waist, tapping it against a sensor and walking through the door as soon as it swung open. The room was huge and its walls were made entirely of glass, displaying the colourful lights of Tokyo spread out far below them.
"I'm not certain why you were there either," Mitsuru sighed, taking a seat at the wide desk in the center of the room and gesturing for Marcus to sit across from her. "Have you been struggling with your emotions recently? Have you felt abandoned or ill-treated?"
Marcus hesitated, thinking of his last girlfriend. She had been dominant and headstrong – similar to Mitsuru, if he were being honest – and he had allowed her to treat him more like an employee than a boyfriend. He had always done whatever she asked of him, and gradually had started to resent it. Finally he had stood up for himself and ended things with her, and coming to Japan had been part of an effort to take back his life and start existing for himself again.
His girlfriend wasn't the only problem, though. At work he was timid. He allowed his boss to speak to him condescendingly and rudely, and regularly worked free overtime hours. His friends all had dominant personalities, and they usually made decisions without consulting him and controlled conversations without allowing him much input.
He was gradually starting to realize that he was tired of taking the easy way out. He wanted to be in control for once – to experience that rush of power and to look at himself in the mirror and know that he was a strong, capable man.
"I see," Mitsuru said, though Marcus hadn't spoken. "Well, I'll tell you what I know. It appears that an unknown god is merging our world and the Metaverse. More and more people are getting pulled in, but not all of them are strong enough to develop a Persona. Now that you have done so, you'll notice that you're stronger, faster, and more durable than you were before.
The gap will become especially significant as your power increases."
Marcus leaned forward, placing his elbows on the desk and putting his head in his hands.
"And how will that happen?" he asked in a muffled voice.
There was a pause, and then Marcus felt a soft touch on his arm. He looked up and saw that Mitsuru was looking at him warmly. She squeezed his forearm and he felt a pleasant tingle across the surface of his skin.
"You'll be alright, Marcus," she said. "You're a different man now than you were before. A better one. You can try to walk away from this if you choose, I suppose. But there is a reason you were chosen. Do not let your powers go to waste."
"I'm not walking away," Marcus said softly. "I'm just scared."
"I know," Mitsuru said. "You're under my protection now."
The words were comforting, but still Marcus prickled a little. Maybe he didn't need – or want – her protection.
Again seeming to hear his thoughts in that uncanny way of hers, Mitsuru said, "You need me more than you know, Marcus. You aren't prepared for this world. I have been a part of it for nearly a decade. I will guide you."
"We'll see," Marcus muttered, ignoring the way her eyes seemed to pin him in place and, more importantly, the way he didn't really mind feeling frozen under her stare. "You didn't answer my question. How do I grow stronger?"
To his relief Mitsuru seemed willing to let the matter rest for the time being, and she leaned forward with her elbows on the desk, elegantly resting her dainty chin on interlaced fingers and letting her dark red hair fall forward over her shoulders. "For every enemy you defeat, you'll earn a point. Points can be exchanged for attributes at each level of the Metaverse; these are skills you must earn to grow stronger. The skills at level 1 are knowledge, guts, proficiency, kindness, and charm. You have already earned one of them."
Marcus wrinkled his brow. "How is that – ?"
She interrupted him with the easy grace of a woman used to speaking over people and accustomed to those people listening to her. "You killed fifteen Shadows tonight. That earned you one point, which was automatically exchanged for guts because you displayed so much bravery." Her bow-shaped lips twisted in an ironic smile. "Consider it your welcome to the Metaverse. In any case, you can also earn bonus points by completing quests. Those points can also be exchanged for items from the in-Metaverse store."
"What would I ever want to buy from a store in the Metaverse?"
Mitsuru smiled and stood, placing a boot-covered foot on the desk. Marcus leaned forward despite himself, then backed away quickly when he saw her looking at him. She smirked and he felt his face heat up.
"These, for one thing," she said, tapping her boot with a slender hand. "And anything else you want, really. If you want to join us, Marcus, you need to dress the part. You can purchase weapons, too – weapons you never even imagined. Think of how strong you could be, and how well-respected. Imagine yourself at my side, the two of us taking over the Metaverse and saving the world together."
Marcus closed his eyes, his head spinning. Mitsuru reminded him so strongly of his controlling ex-girlfriend that he was getting a sense of déjà vu. That didn't stop him, though, from longing to reach out and stroke her boot where it rested on the desk in front of him. Instead he restrained himself and said only, "Why are you so interested in me? You said there were others."
Mitsuru sighed and pulled her boot off the desk, circling around to stand in front of Marcus and placing her hands on his shoulders. Her sweet scent – of ink and paper and something that might have been coconut perfume – enveloped him, and he struggled to keep his breathing even.
"Marcus," she whispered, and hearing his name in her mouth felt like a caress. "There are no others like you. How many people do you think arrived in the Metaverse and took on a Persona right away? I was watching you, you know, during your fight. I saw you produce
Morrigan. You didn't even hesitate."
"You were watching?" Marcus asked indignantly. "Why didn't you help?" "I only helped when you needed me," Mitsuru said with a shrug, her thumbs gently rubbing Marcus's arms. The effect was so distracting he could hardly concentrate on her words. "With most people, I step in right away, but I knew as soon as I saw you that you were different. You have more power inside of you than you realize, Marcus, but I wouldn't have let you get hurt."
"So you do all of this for everyone who comes to the Metaverse?" His voice was tight and hoarse from his struggle to control himself. She was intoxicating, and if he wasn't careful she would pull him over the edge and he would let her do whatever she wanted with him. "Everyone? No one, actually, until you. I guide people, yes, but most aren't invited to my office. You're the only one so far." And with that she winked and pulled away, and Marcus was abruptly left feeling cold and lonely.
"If you're wondering why I'm helping you," she went on, "it's because you remind me of someone I once cared about very much. He too was brave and strong and powerful, and he died before his time." The mirth faded slowly from her eyes as she spoke, and when she finished she turned her back on Marcus and walked away to stand at the window and gaze down at the city below. From where he sat, Marcus could only see the profile of her face.
"Oh," Marcus said softly, feeling lost for words. He couldn't think of anything to say that wouldn't seem hollow in the face of death and tragedy. It seemed strange to see Mitsuru so suddenly subdued when she had shown nothing but confidence and wit since he had met her. As he watched her, though, it occurred to him that this was probably a rare thing for her – to let someone else witness her pain.
He stood slowly and walked up behind her, watching their softly-lit reflections in the windows. Mitsuru's eyes flickered as he approached, but otherwise she gave no sign that she knew he was there.
"I'm sorry that you lost someone you loved," he whispered, standing so close to her that they were almost touching. The dark red silk of her hair was inches away from his cheek, and he longed to rest his head on it. "But if you don't want to, you won't lose me either." "I know I won't," Mitsuru said, her tone straddling the line between sincerity and irritation. She lifted a hand to her eyes and sniffed softly, then turned to look at Marcus head-on. There was no trace of tears on her face now. "It has always been my job to protect others, and it's a job I take very seriously. I have rarely failed, and when I did it was because of the stubbornness of the one I loved. He sacrificed himself, but if it had been up to me he would still be alive. If you wish to hear the truth, Marcus: I trust you, and I do not give my trust away easily.
But if you want to be certain of safety, then you have to trust me too."
"I do," he said, and it was true. Her charisma, charm, and obvious intelligence made it impossible not to believe every word she spoke. Part of him longed to prove his devotion to her – to let her tell him what to do, to guide him whichever way she pleased, to make him whoever she wanted him to be.
But a larger part – a part that had been dormant until tonight but had finally awoken in the Metaverse – wanted his own inner voice to guide him. He had learned that his will was stronger than he'd ever realized. He was one with the warrior goddess Morrigan, after all. Mitsuru had said herself that it was Marcus's strength and courage that had summoned her. If he could summon a goddess and take her on as a Persona, then surely he could resist the seductive charm of a powerful woman.
(Though if he were honest with himself, he wasn't certain of that.) Mitsuru met his gaze, and whatever she saw in his eyes made her smile.
"Do you want to know another secret about the Metaverse?" she whispered, leaning towards him.
"Sure," he replied softly. She had rendered him breathless again. When she spoke, puffs of air tickled his face.
"The more mutual affection you gain with someone, the more perks you receive." "What does that mean?"
She took a step closer to him so that they were toe to toe, the tips of their boots touching. Marcus swallowed and Mitsuru pressed her chest against his, clearly relishing the effect she had on him.
"It means that if you kiss me, you might be able to buy those boots you want in the Metaverse."
Those words broke the dam containing Marcus's longing for her and he leaned forward before the last word had left her mouth. Their lips crashed together rather painfully, but neither of them was deterred. Mitsuru wrapped her arms around Marcus's shoulders, clutching at the firm muscles of his back and pulling him closer with strong fingers. Having her in his arms made Marcus feel like he was full of liquid honey – sweet and warm and delicious. Every spot on his skin that she touched buzzed and hummed with energy.
Her back was against the glass window and she suddenly pushed him away and turned him so his back was against the wall instead. She was strong, but so was he, and though he could have resisted he decided not to. He let her take the lead in the kiss, let her reach her hands up and under his shirt and down over his legs, let her rub his calves with one of her boots.
With a momentous effort he finally broke away from her. They were both panting; her cheeks were pink and her lips were cherry-red.
"If we're going to do this, you won't always be able to take control," he said, and she responded by pressing another bruising kiss to his lips. He took a tight hold of her hips and pushed her away. When she looked into his eyes, she seemed surprised at the challenge in them.
Slowly, a mischievous smirk formed on her lips. "We'll see," she replied.
"This is the dormitory area," Mitsuru said next. They had gone down an elevator, and through a series of corridors to a new place—there was a lounge in front of him, with a number of chairs, a cooking area off to the side next to a massive refrigerator. There were a number of corridors connected to the central area. "The one in charge is named Misato Katsuragi…" She looked around. "Oh yes, she is currently assigned to something else today, so you won't meet her yet. Well, she will be your liaison here for anything related to the dormitory. Should you require anything during your stay here, feel free to ask her for help."
"Got it," he said.
"Well then, I will see you later, Marcus," she said.
"Wait, what? Tour's over?" he asked, surprised.
"Oh, you still have more introductions to other things, that is true," replied Mitsuru. "But, you have only just recently awakened your Persona. That means you will require a lot of rest afterward to recuperate from the effects." She cocked her head. "Tell me, how is your body feeling?"
"What do you mean? I'm feeling…" Now that she mentioned it, he did feel a little drowsy. But that was strange; it was only the start of the day! "Well… I admit I'm feeling sleepy…"
Mitsuru nodded. "Then please take this time to rest. We can continue with more introductions to SEES later, once you've recovered."
"Well, thanks I guess." He really was grateful that they were being considerate about him. Then again, Mitsuru didn't really strike him as the type who would just dump people out on the street after taking them into her confidence. He sensed she had a kind heart behind the cool exterior.
"Here's your room key," she said, handing him a small, thin plastic card. "As I said, if there are any questions related to the dormitory—such as if you lose this—then direct them to Ms. Misato Katsuragi later."
"Got it." He breathed in a sigh. "Well, I guess if that's all then I'll probably be seeing you later then."
"Have a good rest, Marcus," Mitsuru said. Then she surprised him by leaning forward to plant a kiss on his cheek. He frowned—she really was that kind of bold person was she? Well, two could play that game. And so he reached out and took her hand. Mitsuru's eyes widened, looking surprised.
He bent down to kiss the back of her hand swiftly, without lingering. He grinned at the hint of a flustered expression on her face. Then his grip softened so it looked like he was only shaking her hand.
"I know it's a little late, but I'm very pleased to meet you, Mitsuru."
Her tense expression faded. She chuckled. "Hmph. Very well. It was a pleasure, Marcus."
He watched her go, sashaying back towards the outer corridors, her booted steps creaking loudly and pleasantly through the empty hall. Then he sighed and turned back towards the direction of the dorms.
She was right. He was feeling a little more than drowsy now. It was only the start of the day; and he hadn't done anything yet, (aside from the whole battle) but he now felt like he did at the end of a big backbreaking day at work. This whole Persona and Memento business was the real deal then.
He glanced at the number on the room card given to him and went there. He found his room easily enough. After scanning it at the blinking terminal near the door, it slid open with a whoosh.
Inside, he saw that it was a pretty normal-looking room, with a sleeping area on the corner, a desk to the right, and a closet just to his left next to the lavatory. Pretty standard apartment experience, with the noted lack of a window. The door wheezed shut behind him and he walked over to the bed in a groggy daze, and he sat down on it with an exhausted wheeze.
What a day. He kicked off his shoes and positioned himself on the sheets. The bed seemed comfortable enough, and for that he mentally thanked Mitsuru for the hospitality offered to him. Though he was aware that in exchange he had entered this crazy world, where beings like Morrigan were the norm.
Later, he thought. I'll ask her all about it later.
Marcus didn't remember his eyes close shut.
But what greeted him next was not a simple dream, if it even was a dream.
He found himself in some sort of large chamber, which looked quite opulent—and in his opinion too flashy for his tastes. It was like what one would expect to see if he ever went to Europe or something and visited those old palaces: very expensive to look at, but a bit too much for his blood. The other thing he noticed about this place was that the whole place seemed drenched in a dark blue color, as if the decorator only sought to use that color and that color alone for his purposes.
Then again, this was a dream, right? So this whole place was something out of his mind. He looked around.
"Morrigan," he said aloud. The woman from before did not appear, and he did not feel something change inside him.
Right in the middle of all this brazen opulence was a long table, fit for a party or a large number of people. There were series of candelabras set all through the center of the table, each emitting a small, if brilliant flame from the candles set at the top.
Marcus found his dream steps walking towards one end of the table, where there was a high-backed chair. What struck him was that the table had been set before it, with plates, and spoons and a goblet of some sort. When he reached the chair, he looked around, before shrugging and taking a seat.
"Welcome to the Velvet Room."
He nearly jumped out of the seat, but he kept his cool and managed his panic to something closer to a yelp. He looked at the source of the voice, and saw a beautiful woman standing there.
But there was something about her that instantly struck him as strange. She had absolutely pale skin, like marble, with hair roughly the same color. She wore clothes of dark blue, almost making her look like she was part of her surroundings. What stood out to Marcus most were her eyes: each like gold orbs that seemed to pierce deep into his heart.
She was beautiful, insanely so. Her high-heeled, leather boots made a loud, creaking thunk as she stepped forward towards him.
"My apologies for being late," she said, in a crisp, business-like voice, almost like Mitsuru's had been. She withdrew some sort of thin book from somewhere, and opened it up before her, presenting its inner surface to him. To Marcus, it looked like a menu, somehow, like the one given at restaurants.
"What's this?"
"A contract, of sorts. Should you sign it, you will consent to accept all responsibility for the actions you will undertake from this point forward. And in exchange…" her voice trailed off, looking to the side, as if she was addressing someone who wasn't there. "… I shall assist you to the end."
"Contract?" He furrowed his brow. That didn't sound good. "No, no way. I ain't signing anything shady." He'd had enough of people lording it over him—and actually giving them something legal to hold over his head was not something he was ever going to do. "Look, I don't know who you are, lady, or what your deal is. In fact, I don't even know where the heck I am! Please, some answers would be nice. Is this the real world? Is this Mementos? I was just in my bed, and now I'm stuck here. I don't even know where here is."
The woman still stood there, like a statue, completely unmoving. "As I said, dear guest, this is the Velvet Room. It exists between dream and reality, between mind and matter. Only those who have a certain purpose may come here. And it shall be my duty to assist you in such matters." She bowed her head. "Though do forgive the discourtesy. My name is Margaret."
"And you're the owner of this place?"
She shook her head. "Ordinarily, I assist my master, and together we would have assisted you. But he is currently indisposed. Thus, it falls to me to secure your destiny as much as I am able."
"What sort of destiny are you talking about?"
"That, I cannot say. But though to you it seems mysterious, and perhaps suspicious, know that we are not even asking for anything more than what you could give. As I said, signing this contract will only mean you agree to be committed to see your destiny through. And in exchange, we…" She cleared her throat. "… I, will help you."
Marcus still felt hostile, and his bullshit meter was beeping off the charts. But really, if his part of the deal was just to never look away from the future, then what was there for him to lose? If he was gonna just lay down like that so easily, then really, it'd be better if he was just dead. He wouldn't bend over for anyone ever again.
"Fine," he said. He took up the pen, which he didn't even remember being in his hands, and signed the "contract". He glanced at the table. "I hope you got good food in here."
For the briefest moment, the girl named Margaret raised her brow. "Food?"
Marcus shrugged, gesturing towards the table. "Yeah. You got the table all set up, but no food, and um… well, forget it." He realized he was sounding kind of stupid joking about food of all things and in a place like this. He wasn't even hungry!
Then, to his surprise, Margaret chuckled. "I see. So that's what it is. Yes, the Velvet Room does conform to its current guest. And as this regal place reflects your presence, then it would indeed be logical for it to be this 'restaurant', as you perceive it."
Huh. The woman could smile. That was interesting.
She cleared her throat. "With the contract signed, we now have an official compact. You are now officially the Velvet Room's current guest, and as my master's representative I am now obligated to assist you in any way I can." Margaret bowed, and stowed away the menu.
"Do you wish to know some of the details about the new compact you've made?"
"If you could, please," he replied. "Assuming this dream's got enough time… Do we have enough time? How does the 'time' work in this place?"
"The Velvet Room exists outside the boundaries of time and space. You can take as long as you need, but do keep in mind that you cannot achieve your destiny from inside here." She brushed a stray lock of silver hair from her face.
"I getchu. Well, what's the basics of this whole thing then?"
"For now, we can start small. You may acquire items here that will become useful for your forthcoming battles, in exchange for the currency that you have already earned."
"Wait, what sorta items? I'm just gonna bring them out with me or something?" he asked.
"No, such items are usually of the 'less tangible' sort," Margaret replied in a business-like manner. She snapped her finger, and a card of some sort appeared, floating in midair between them. It was wreathed in some sort of blue flame, though it didn't look to be burning at all. "For example, like this. A card that is useful for 'enhancing' your Persona. In this case, it will boost your physical strength by a certain degree."
"Interesting," Marcus said with a hum.
Margaret waved her hand again. The card disappeared, and another appeared in its place. "And this, for example, is another sort of skill card. In this case, it would grant your Persona a certain useful ability." She snapped her fingers, and the card disappeared. "It will be up to you, dear guest, to figure out how best to utilize my services."
Marcus made a sound of understanding. "I see, I see. That sounds pretty simple then."
"There are various other services that we, or I, can provide for you, but those will need to be relegated for later. They are for things you have yet to experience yourself, so you would have no concept of it. But when the time comes, please be assured that I shall provide you with the information you seek. Of course, you may seek to learn it now, as is your right as our guest, but I am not sure you would appreciate hearing unfamiliar terms in your ears."
"That's understandable." The explanation she had given was already plenty informative enough on its own. If he demanded any more, then he was going to be overwhelmed by everything, potentially paralyzing him and his thoughts.
"There is a tertiary service that I can provide you," Margaret said. "This place is not the only source of these special types of items that we can provide. In your journey you may encounter such objects, and perhaps you may end up perplexed as to how you were to… keep it. But such metaphysical things, born from the sea of consciousness, may easily slip into your own soul, and end up here—in the Velvet Room. I would be honored to keep watch over such items in your stead, and you may retrieve them back whenever it pleases you."
"That's convenient. So, it's sort of like some sort of bank, huh?"
"Yes," she said. "If that definition is acceptable to you."
"How will I know I can 'store' these things?"
"You will know them when you see them," Margaret said simply.
"Alright then. Those explanations were appreciated, thank you. Was there anything else?"
Margaret hesitated. "I should be the one to ask that of you, my guest. Do you have any questions for me?"
"Well, since you asked, I do want a clearer picture of what exactly I got into back there," he said. "What with my 'Persona' awakening, and all those creatures… Sorry, I'm still kind of lost about all this."
"That is understandable. However, it would not be wrong to say that you will understand your situation in time by yourself. It is a journey that you have agreed to take, after all, and more will be explained to you by others than I ever could. Your journey of discovery will itself be the catalyst to acquiring the wisdom that you seek. And it is my firm belief that no amount of explanations from myself will ever replace the catharsis of experiencing such an event yourself."
"Alright, well leave it to me, I guess," he said. "Well, what about you? Anything you can tell me about yourself?"
At that, Margaret's head tilted, ever so slightly. "Me? I am myself. Margaret, assistant to my master, who is the Velvet Room's inhabitant. Is there something uncertain about that?"
He shrugged. "No, like well, I'm just curious about you. Like, as a person and all. Is that forbidden to ask?"
Margaret's eyes crinkled. "You may ask. But unfortunately, I can only answer but briefly, as there is truly nothing else that can be said. I exist to assist the current guest of the Velvet Room, no matter who they may be. That alone is sufficient for me."
"Really?" He cocked his head. So she was one of those types of people? "Well, I am curious about you. But I guess it's too soon to ask you out on a date or something?"
"A date?" she repeated. She blinked once. For the longest moment, Marcus wondered if he had said something wrong, or possibly offensive. Then, she closed her eyes briefly, before looking at him once more. "…I see. I understand your meaning. And rest assured, I do not object to it."
"Wha-? So then—"
"But are these dates not arranged ahead of time?" Margaret continued smoothly. "And do they not involve a certain special place? I do not think a date would be amenable for your current circumstances."
"Damn. You got a point," Marcus said, frowning. Then his expression brightened. "Well, I don't mind waiting until later. But you did say yes, so I'll hold you to that promise."
"You may rely on me."
He was about to ask something else when he felt a tug against his back, as if there was a hand pulling his clothes there. He tried to turn around, but then there was a large whooshing sound. A bright light seemed to surround him, almost blinding him with the display. The last thing he saw was Margaret's face, staring back at him patiently.
A moment later, the bright light completely overwhelmed him. The next thing he knew, he was staring up at the ceiling, feeling his body lying against an unfamiliar bed. He rose quickly, looking around with sweat on his brow. It took him a second to recognize that he was inside the dormitory room that Mitsuru had given him, and that he wasn't at his home.
"Whoa," he muttered to himself, wiping off the seat from his brow. "Crazy." He still remembered every last detail of the dream he'd just had: the Velvet Room, Margaret, and everything she'd said. And the dream did not seem to fade, even seconds after waking.
"Was that really a dream…?" he murmured, shaking his head. Something caught his eye—there on top of the desk set beside his bed was something he swore he had not seen before.
"The hell…?" He instantly grabbed it. In his hand was one of those cards that Margaret had shown to him, no longer wreathed in fire. He stared the surface for a long time, before flipping it around.
On the back there was a small, scribbled message. "We look forward to your return. M." it said.
Upon reading that, Marcus grinned. He chuckled and lay back down on the bed, and held up the card above his eyes. So it really had happened. He really had gone to that Velvet Room place, and Margaret's little gift was proof of that very fact.
"Man, this is crazy." He flipped the card and put it away. So much had happened just over the past few hours. If he had asked himself last night that he'd end up fighting demon things in a subway, then meet a rich, beautiful redhead who would invite him to her office, before he'd go to sleep and meet yet another beautiful woman in a place called the Velvet Room; he would tell whoever it was to stuff their delusions.
But it really had happened, and that was the reality he had to accept.
He slept for a few more hours after waking. This time, he did have "proper" dreams, which he did not recall when he woke. And yet still, after his second awakening, his memories of the Velvet Room and Margaret remained fresh in his mind.
Marcus now felt a little better now after his so-called awakening. He definitely felt refreshed. And so, with no desire to just lie back and laze away, he stood and exited the room.
As he walked back to the lounge area where he'd last met Mitsuru, he immediately sensed that something was different. There was some movement on the kitchen area. He saw the top of someone's head moving about, and he heard the sound of its constant rummaging.
"Where did I put that thing…" he heard.
A moment later, the head rose, and when it did, Marcus was able to see the rest of its body. Now he saw the person was a woman—a beautiful woman at that, mature, beautiful. She had dark, purplish hair, and a luscious, curvaceous body that he would never deny calling sexy.
In the very next moment, their eyes met, and the woman's face lit up with surprise. "Oh, I'm sorry, I sure didn't see you there."
"Um… hi," he said in response.
"You must be the new guy right? Marcus was it? Mitsuru's briefed me about you." The woman walked around the corner of the kitchen counter, allowing him to see that she was wearing jeans that accentuated her shapely legs. She also was wearing leather ankle boots, which squeaked on the floor as she stepped towards him.
"Pleased to meet you," she said, extending out a hand for him to shake. "The name's Misato Katsuragi. I'm the assigned head of the dormitory section here. If you've got any questions regarding your stay here in the Kirijo Building, please don't hesitate to ask me."
"Ah, yes, well, nice to meet you," Marcus said, noting that her hand's grip was firm and soft, though marked by callouses. "As it so happens, Mitsuru's also told me about you."
Misato beamed. "Well, that certainly makes things a lot simpler now, does it? That being said, you have my apologies for not being here to greet you personally. I was rather busy just earlier. Then again, I pretty much didn't expect Mitsuru to admit someone to the dorms so suddenly."
"It's unusual then?"
"Very much so, Marcus," she said with a wink. "This place here's secret, see, and you wouldn't be here if Mitsuru didn't think it was important."
"I see." He stared at the woman, and tried to figure out if she also knew about SEES, or the deal with Mementos. Was she just a normal employee, or did she know more about what her apparent boss knew?
She seemed to pick up on some of what he was thinking, as she then said, "And in case you were wondering: yes, I do work in SEES."
"Oh!" He chuckled, a little nervously. "Well, that makes things a lot simpler."
She also laughed. "I can see why you would be uncertain. As you might have already experienced yourself, what SEES does in Mementos isn't exactly your run-of-the-mill thing. Even the regular government isn't even aware of it."
"Sure sounds important then. So, wait a second, since you're in SEES, they just have you in charge of the dorm? No way, you look like you're capable of a lot more things."
At that, her expression turned sly. She looked like she was trying to tease him for something. "And what, pray tell, are those 'things'? Hmm?"
He blinked. He was not really sure what she meant. "Oh, well, it's your business, but nothing illegal. I hope."
To his surprise, the woman howled in laughter. "Oooh, woo, wow, now that's a change. Most of those I work with don't know how to deal with adult stuff that much. You could almost think they were still in high school! Pffft! But you're a smooth guy. You're a man of the world."
"Work with?" He raised an eyebrow. "In the… dormitory?"
"Why yes, in cleaning and other important things," Misato said in a faux self-important voice, raising her chin like she was some sort of queen. Then she smiled. "No, I meant in SEES. The other operatives who would be your co-workers in a sense."
"Ah."
"I guess, I should get it out of the way now. In addition to my role as dormitory head, I'm also operations head in SEES. If you're going into any missions inside Mementos, then I'm the gal giving your orders through your earphones." She mimed speaking into a phone. "Psht. Understand? Over."
"…Roger, ma'am," he said, mimicking her. "Over."
"There, see? You're already looking capable." She tilted her head. "Though admittedly I wouldn't want to throw you in immediately to the dogs, like Mitsuru wants. There's a whole bunch of things to prepare beforehand."
"Oh?" he asked. "May I ask what?" Though he didn't really want to head into Mementos again quite so soon, he did feel apprehensive of being made to do things beforehand, to "prove" himself. That had led to lots of hazing in the past.
"Well, first of all, a little medical check-up. Something routine—you are familiar with them yes?"
"Ah, right. That sounds logical."
"I'm not your doctor, but I should ask, you're not sick or anything, are you?"
"No, why do you ask?"
"Well, Persona-users aren't exclusively healthy. Some people have conditions—well, suffice to say it still wouldn't mean we won't accept you. A Persona-user is an asset, that can't be denied. But you probably wouldn't take an active combat role for example."
"That does make sense."
"Well, it's moot because you said you're not—but a full work up is still required. And after that, there's the fitness assessment, to see how well you work with all sorts of exertions. You do a lot of running in the Mementos after all, and sometimes it's important to run away from a troublesome monster or something."
"Well, I'm not athlete-level," he said. "But I can run."
"I'm glad to hear that. And after that, there's supposed to be an interview, but with Mitsuru vouching for you, I guess that's being waived. Well, assuming the tests come back good, then you'll be officially inducted as a full-time member."
He wasn't that eager to just jump on this Mementos business, but he was curious to learn more. "That's great then. Where do I start?"
"Right now, the medical thing. Just to make sure you're not carrying any crazy infectious disease or something," Misato said. She scratched under her chin, and closed her eyes as if she were deep in thought. "Ordinarily, I would be the one to escort you there, and introduce you. Unfortunately, Mitsuru's told me that my previous duties are of better importance. Since you've been accepted, it's fair for me to disclose that there is a major operation underway in Mementos, and it's requiring all hands-on deck at the moment. Technically speaking, I'm on my break."
"Oh, right, please, don't hold back on my account," Marcus said. "You've got a job to do, after all."
"Thanks. So you think you could get yourself up to the clinic?"
"I sure can, you can rely on me."
Misato giggled. "A reliable recruit! A good change for once. Alright, Marcus, the clinic is just on the next two floors. I have it on good authority that Ritsuko Akagi's there—she's our resident doctor. She knows you're here, just present yourself and she'll take it from there."
"Alright then. I'll go do that."
"Ooooh, eager are we? Well don't let Ritsuko's attitude bum you out. She sounds and acts like a tough-skinned bitch, but she's all softie beneath."
"I'll keep that in mind. Then, if you'll excuse me, I'll head there right now."
"Sounds good. It was nice meeting you Marcus. I'll just be right here, waiting. If you don't find me again, then just assume something came up. Anyway, hope it goes well!"
The so-called "clinic" as Misato referred to it was also something quite different from what he was expecting. It looked far larger than he'd thought, almost the same size as the dormitory he'd just left, with various corridors branching off and labeled different names which were unfamiliar to him.
As Marcus wasn't some sort of snoop, nor did he wish to get in trouble with Mitsuru, he went straight ahead to the place that was clearly labeled "Dr. Ritsuko Akagi". Once there, he was quickly able to see someone wearing a lab coat and was sitting behind a desk.
It was some sort of blonde woman, with mature, pretty features and a voluptuous body that was easily the equal to the previous women he'd just met. But where Mitsuru was the image of a tough leader, and Misato being the friendly go-getter, this Ritsuko exuded a cold, almost prickly aura. And that was even before she'd spotted his entrance and frowned.
"So you must be the new recruit," Ritsuko said without preamble. He noticed she was clearly smoking a cigarette, which she pinched off and flicked into the garbage can when she rose. This allowed him to see that beneath the lab coat she was wearing a short blouse and along with a knee-length, black leather boots.
"Hello, name's Marcus. Pleased to meet you," he said.
"I know you know me, so introductions aren't really necessary," she said, her voice sounding a little hoarse. That seemed rude, but he wasn't going to gainsay her opinion just yet. "You can just call me doc. Or ma'am or old hag, or whatever names you youngsters come up nowadays."
"… Would Mrs. Akagi work?"
"… Already assuming I'm married. Hah. That's a new one," she said, making mock laughter.
"Oh, my apologies," he said, glancing down at her fingers, trying to look for a sign of a ring. "That was rude of me to say, then. I only assumed—well, stupidly."
"That's fine, I don't really much care," she said. "Call me whatever you like. You're only going to be here after this when you actually want to admit you're hurt. And that's not a whole lot of times." She clucked her tongue. "Unless there's a major disaster. But that Mitsuru keeps a tight ship. Haven't had those in a while."
"I take it that you don't get a lot of visitors in your job then," he said, looking around at the empty, almost pristine medical beds that looked like they hadn't been used in a while.
She exhaled loudly through her teeth. "Well, it's not like I want 'em to be hurt. And kid, it ain't like it's my only job."
"Ms. Akagi," he said, forcing as much conviction as he could in his voice. "I'd appreciate if you didn't call me kid. Just Marcus is fine."
"Hmph." She quirked a brow. "Alright. Marcus. As I was saying, I also have other duties aside from this one. So it's not the end of the world if some hotshot operative just wants to walk off their injury after my seeing them once." She clucked her tongue again. "Alright. That's enough with the pleasantries. Come on over here so we can get started."
True to the personality she seemed to exude, Ritsuko Akagi started with the medical tests promptly, with a brusque, no-nonsense manner that proved her deep-seated professionalism, which reassured Marcus just a bit. After all, he still felt a little wary of being examined by a female doctor.
But she kept true to her professionalism, even when she ordered Marcus to change out of his clothes; or when she began to touch him all over his body with her hands, or using her many diagnostic instruments. She explained the reason for every test clearly before performing them, and always made sure to assume the appropriate distance when she interacted directly with him.
When it got to showing off his more secret parts, that's when the exam got a little bit weirder. Granted, he had experienced the same thing before, and this was a professional setting. But it was hard not to feel even a little self-conscious when she said;
"Now, please spread your legs."
As he was only wearing the exam robes, doing that would definitely allow her to see his crotch. After a moment's hesitation where he watched her face, and saw that her expression didn't shift from her usual business-like mien; he realized that she really was going to do this. And so, he did as suggested.
This marked the first occasion that a woman other than his mother was staring at his privates, most especially his cock. He tried not to think of lewd things as she did so, not wanting to stiffen up. That would have been greatly embarrassing.
But then she said, "I'm going to need to touch you now. Please inform me if you feel any pain."
And before he could say anything, nor less do anything, her fingers had lifted his cock up to examine the base, before her other hand patted his balls. He gritted his teeth, wanting so very much to tell the woman off. But she did not look like she was joking, and in any case this was a woman who was touching him with her gloved hands.
Of course, the moment he thought that, he almost screamed inside from the faint buzzing sensation that he started to feel in his crotch. He cleared his throat.
"Um, Ms. Ritsuko—"
"Oh!"
Too late! Once again proving that thoughts and instinct moved as fast as lightning, his cock started to rise, hardening slowly as if it was giving a firm salute to the doctor.
"I'm—I'm sorry," he stammered, shifting back and pushing the cloth of his robes over his crotch to hide his treacherous bastard.
After a brief moment of surprise, Ritsuko shook her head and said, "I don't mind it. It's a biological reaction, nothing more, Marcus."
"Still, I do apologize for this," Marcus said. "I mean, you're a beautiful woman and all—"
Ritsuko made a snorting sound. He wasn't sure if it was a laugh or something different. Regardless, she shook her head and said, "Well, thanks for the compliment, Marcus. Although don't go getting any bright ideas now. It's a biological reaction, and this is just a medical test."
"Understood, yes," Marcus said hastily, with blushing cheeks.
"Still, I'm going to have to do some more things that might be shameful, or embarrassing. I want you to know that I'm not rushing you. We can take our time; but I should emphasize that it must be done or the tests aren't complete."
"What do you mean?"
"For example, I'm about to do a prostate check."
"Oh." He looked down. "Oh." He glanced back at her. "Oh!" He shuddered. "Oh… right… okay. It's okay with me." It had been him, or more arguably, his cock, that had reacted. He and Dr. Akagi had been strictly operating in a business manner. So it really didn't matter one bit if she needed to do more things that were shameful. "It's fine with me," he repeated. "Anytime you're ready."
"Okay," she said. "We'll take it slow. And please, no jokes."
It was a pretty embarrassing procedure, all things considered. Especially as it was spontaneous—he never really expected to wake up from fighting monsters and awakening his Persona to getting probed by a beautiful doctor's fingers.
And the strangest part of it? When she dug in those fingers inside him, massaging it to seek out abnormalities, Marcus felt a little good, like he was buzzed from taking some shots. It even made him hard, though thankfully he was already erect, which meant that the woman couldn't comment on it even if she was looking at it (which she wasn't). He wondered at the strange reaction, though for the moment he put that aside.
After the brief physical, they moved on to taking his blood and other things. There was the urine and stool of course, but she assured him that he could do that later on his own time.
"But make sure it's today, so we can get you sorted sooner."
He had just about completed the last batch of tests when the door to the clinic opened, and a familiar redhead stepped in, her boots clacking loud on the floor.
"Mitsuru," Ritsuko said in greeting.
"Dr. Akagi, greetings," Mitsuru said curtly. She turned her head to Marcus and smiled. "I gather you're in the middle of tests?"
"We're just about finished," Ritsuko said, answering for him.
"What the doctor said," Marcus said, shrugging.
"Good. Then if you are amenable to it, I have some things to discuss with you, Marcus."
"Go on ahead, Marcus," Ritsuko said. From the way she had fished out a cigarette, it seemed she was already on the verge of dismissing him entirely.
"As you say. Thank you again, doctor," he said, trying not to think of what had happened during the tests.
"Anytime."
He followed Mitsuru outside, then back to the elevators.
"I assume you've already met Misato," Mitsuru said.
"I did."
"And from that I would also assume that she was not able to explain things to you as I intended," she mused. "There is an important mission ongoing, and all hands are expected. In fact, the good doctor's services may just be needed shortly. It is good that your tests were not interrupted by the arrival of the wounded."
"Is that common?" he asked. "Being wounded?"
Mitsuru fixed him with a look. "Most certainly. The things you will encounter in Mementos, even with the help of your Persona, even with the help of your team, and with the help of our support staff—it is sometimes too much for any human to endure. The physical, psychological toll of the battles waged there… I will not lie to you, it can sometimes be more than what seasoned soldiers experience.
"Knowing that, do you still wish to pursue this course?"
"What do you mean?" he asked, raising a brow.
"I know that I invited you here, and you accepted, but I still would like to make it clear, Marcus. For your sake." She crossed her arms under her breasts. "Would you still consent to leveraging your Persona in the fight against these creatures?"
"What happens if I say no?"
A brief look flashed on Mitsuru's face. To Marcus, it looked very much like sadness. "Then, I put you in the ringer. So to speak. I will be required to take away your memories. We accomplish it by sealing your Persona?"
"You can do that?" he gasped.
"Through the years we've perfected many techniques involving the shadows and Personas. Should you wish it, Marcus, you can forget this ever happened to you. Of course, there's no guarantee you won't experience the same thing again, and you would awaken your Persona a second time. But you would never recall me, or this place, or SEES or anything else. And I can't guarantee I'll be there to guide you. But you can be free, if you wish."
He thought about it. Honestly it all sounded crazy still, and he felt even crazier for even wanting to go and work as some sort of "soldier".
But there were many things that drove him now.
First there was the dream—or to be more truthful, the encounter at the Velvet Room. He was certain deep inside his soul that whatever he had done there held a lot of significance, including his decision to sign the contract. Though many things were still unknown to him, he knew he could no longer back down when presented with such a momentous crossroads. He would keep his word to Margaret, and he would see himself through to the end of his destiny, no matter what it would be.
And secondly, there was Mitsuru. And for some reason, he felt drawn to the woman. It wasn't love, or attraction—but he did want to know more about her. And the quickest way to do that, was to accept her offer.
"Don't worry," he said. "It's way too interesting now for me to back out."
Mitsuru beamed. She held out a hand for him to shake. "Well then, allow me to thank you, Marcus."
He took her hand, and recalling earlier, he moved forward to kiss her. And yet, apparently, she too thought the same, as their lips mashed together with far more strength than was necessary.
"Hmmphh…!"
"Owwmpphh…!"
They both withdrew from the kiss, and he saw her flushed face, an expression he was sure was on his own.
"Well now," she said, adjusting the front of her dress as if she was intent to just forget about what had happened. "Allow me to formally welcome you to SEES."
Parts of the story were provided by theqman. The other parts were commissioned by theqman, thank you.
If you'd like a story commissioned, feel free to contact me here, or on archiveofourown under "RHoldhous".
If you like my stories but don't wish to commission something big, you can drop a few at peypal dot me/RHoldhous (please change the second letter on peypal to a). Any help is appreciated!
