Chapter 4

-Thursday, August 8th, 2013-

My mind wanders as I try to finish the worksheet I've been assigned in math class. Emile never showed up for any classes today, but I can't really blame him. I'd take a day off if I were him, too.

-You alright dude?- I text him.

-yeah, I'm fine, just didn't feel like coming today- he responds.

Considering it's the last period of the day, the class isn't paying much attention to the worksheet and is instead chatting amongst each other. I try to drown them out with music, but a certain piece of one conversation catches my attention.

"That reporter lady isn't doing much better," someone points out.

"First of all, she isn't a reporter," the girl next to him says. "Second, 'isn't doing much better' is underselling it."

"What happened this time?" a third person, another girl, asks.

"She flatlined for at least three seconds," the guy says. "She bounced right back, but the doctors say they're worried she won't make it out of her coma."

Why do I keep hearing about this lady?

The second girl sighs.

"I hope she'll be okay…my mom loves her show."

{~}

A finger taps my shoulder as I stand at my locker.

"Hi, Tyson!" Ally greets me with a smile. "Glad I found ya!"

"Oh, hey," I reply, removing my earbuds. "What's up?"

"Well, I realized I never got your number yesterday," she points out. "Thought it might be a good idea."

"Yeah, I guess so," I say. I'm not exactly following her reasoning, but why turn down a girl for her phone number?

"Thanks!" she says as we finish trading information. "I gotta go; I promised Emile I'd get him some ice cream on the way home."

"It's like you're his maid or something," I say with a laugh.

"Don't tell him that…he'll take it the wrong way," she says with a grimace.

(Nice job, dumbass.)

Shut it.

"Don't worry," I tell her. "I won't."

She smiles and nods in approval, giving me another hug before darting down the hallway with the usual bounce in her step.

{~}

I get home to find that Aunt Joanne has stayed out late tonight, presumably for her job. I almost feel bad; we still haven't talked since I kicked that one kid's ass.

(She's probably worried about you.)

I know she is, but giving me the silent treatment seems kind of irrational.

I decide not to think much on it, as there's not much I can do about it until she gets back. I plop down onto the couch to reassess my thoughts, given that the week is nearing its conclusion and my mind is fried.

First math quiz next Tuesday…physics quiz the next day…haven't given Igor that book yet…speaking of books, I need to buy one for a Lit assignment…

I stop myself, realizing that one of those sounds incredibly out of place. I let out a loud exaggerated sigh, realizing that this Persona stuff has really messed my life up.

(C'mon, I'm not that bad.)

Not my point. You shouldn't even be talking to me. You shouldn't exist.

(Ouch. That's harsh, kid.)

It's true, though. Nobody tells you during health class, 'Oh, by the way, one of the symptoms of puberty is that you'll start hearing voices'.

Ixion falls silent. Either he gets my point or, somehow, I've managed to hurt his feelings. I'll vote for the former.

The house's doorbell breaks the silence. I peer over the couch to see who's out there, but the porch is empty. However, a black truck with dark tinted windows peels out of the cul-de-sac and veers down the road. Curious, I rise to my feet and open the door, finding a small brown package with nothing but my address written on the side. I carry the box to the counter and tear it open, pulling out a smaller black carbon case. I examine it all around, seeing no markings whatsoever aside from a sticky note on the top of the case.

"You'll need this. –CM"

'CM'? Who's that?

I grip the latch to the box and lift the lid. A gleaming silver object presents itself before me.

It's a handgun.

{~}

-Friday, August 9th, 2013-

"Are you alright?"

I look to my left and see Maria looking back. I realize I've been silent during the whole car ride to school; she must've taken notice to how distant I'm acting.

"Uh…yeah, I'm…fine," I lie. "Just a long first week is all."

Unlike everyone else I've talked within the last week, Maria doesn't buy my fib.

"You were fine the last couple of days…did something come up?"

The image of the gun in its case flashes in my mind, despite throwing it in my nightstand drawer alongside the leather book.

She can't find it…she can't see that…

I shake my head in an attempt to snap myself out of it.

"N-…u-um…sort of," I tell her. "It's no big deal, really…"

I sense a slight bit of annoyance coming from Maria. She must not care for me hiding details from her, but what else am I supposed to do? Tell her that some semi-anonymous freak sent me a gun in the mail?

"Sorry…" I tell her. "Just don't worry about me, alright? I'll be okay." I try to muster a smile. Somehow, I manage to make it convincing enough for her usual smile and blush to return. If I can keep everyone from worrying, this day should be way easier.

…I hope.

{~}

I greet Emile as I walk into first period. His bruises have mostly faded away, but someone could spot them if they knew what they were looking for. He seems to have recovered, though; he's just as peppy as ever.

"Hey bro," Emile says as I take my seat. "I heard Ally tracked you down for your number yesterday."

"Oh, uh…yeah. Why, is that important, or…?"

Emile laughs.

"Of course it is! She doesn't normally do stuff like that."

I feel my face redden slightly.

"S-seriously? You're kidding, right?"

(You're turning into a womanizer, kid.)

"I don't kid when it comes to chicks, man," he replies with a smirk. The expression on his face sours as I mull over this new information. "Hey, um…would I be able to ask a huge favor?"

"Like what?"

"Well, remember a few days ago when I said that there were some things going on at home? There was a gas leak the day before and I had to help get some stuff out of there. The fumigation is going on this weekend, but we have to stay in a hotel…and my mom, she…snores."

"And you wanna stay at my place so you can actually get some sleep?" I suggest with a smirk.

"If it's too much trouble, I can deal with-"

I hold my hand up. "Don't worry, man. You can stay with me."

His head flies back as he groans in relief. "Oh thank God. Thanks man. It'll only be for this Saturday, though, so I won't drive you too crazy by staying all weekend."

"I'll let my aunt know," I tell him. "I'll text you my address later."

"You're a lifesaver, dude!"

{~}

I fight my way against the surging lunchtime crowd, drowning out the conversations I'd rather not hear with my headphones. After almost getting trampled by the stampede of students, I reach a wooden door at the end of the hallway. The sign beside it reads, 'Richard Crane – Track Coach'.

Knock, knock, knock

The door opens and a tall muscular man with a black buzz cut stands before me, looking remarkably similar to a commander in an army. The sheer menacing presence of Mr. Crane causes me to forget what I even came here for.

(Tower.)

"What is it, shortstack?"

"U-um…could I get a form to sign up for the track team?"

The man studies me for a moment before bursting out laughing, attracting the attention of some of the straggler students headed for lunch.

"You? Track? With those legs? Maybe you'd be better off with the frisbee kids over with Mr. Kennedy. That sounds more of your style." He taunts me as he ruffles my hair, which I quickly fix.

(What a dick.)

"Sir, I'm more than capable of running on your team," I tell him while shoving my foot in the door as he attempts to shut it in my face. "I may not look like it, but I was the fastest guy on my baseball team at my old school."

"That doesn't mean anything to me, shortstack," he says. "With baseball, all you do is push forward for a few seconds and then take a break while everyone stares at the guy swinging his stick. In my team, someone who's fast isn't the same thing as someone's who's got a lot of endurance, and what my team is lacking right now is that someone. I need a guy who can go all-out without stopping."

"I can be that someone," I plead. "Let me prove it to you."

"And how do you intend to do that?" he asks with a raised eyebrow.

I'm not entirely sure why I want a spot on the team so badly. At this point, it's pretty much just to spite this asshole for talking down to me. Either way, I'm ready to show him up.

"Let me run on the track for you today after school," I offer. "If I meet your expectations, you'll put me on the team. If I don't, then I don't make the team."

Mr. Crane's tongue visibly shifts against the inside of his cheek as he considers my proposal. As if against his better judgment, he throws his arms up and agrees.

"Alright, alright. Fine. You got one shot. Meet me at the track immediately after school and we'll see if you live up to your hype."

"Thank you, sir. You won't be disappointed."

"You better hope you're right."

{~}

"Are you nuts?!"

I have now found myself being scolded by Emile during the last period of the day for attempting to show up the track coach. According to him, Mr. Crane is one ruthless son of a bitch.

"Dude, calm down," I say to him. "He can't be that bad."

"Yes, yes he can!" he responds. "His exercises are brutal, you make one slipup and you're off the team, and he's even made a couple students cry. And one of them was a senior!"

Okay, so maybe he's that bad.

"How do you know that? It's probably just a rumor."

"He used to be the swimming coach. It's a good thing he switched sports this year or I probably wouldn't have made it this time. I was only in last year because they didn't have enough members. I got lucky."

"Not enough members? I thought swimming was a popular sport?"

"It is, but Coach Crane only accepts the best of the best. If you're not good enough for him, your ass is off the team."

"Well, geez, thanks for making me nervous."

Emile sighs and rubs his forehead.

"Look, just…don't get too full of it. If you try to get above him, he's gonna find a way to shove you back down. Trust me. Stay under the radar after all this and you might be fine."

"Thanks-…wait, 'might'?"

"Yeah. Or he'll beat you into the ground."

{~}

Thankfully, as I had guessed, the weatherwoman's report earlier in the week had been incorrect. It hasn't rained all day and has instead stayed warm but windy, perfect for running. After school let out, I made a beeline for the back of the school, where the brown running track circles the lush green football field.

(You sure you wanna do this, kid? Sounds to me like you're about to make an enemy.)

You'd rather me give up?

Ixion once again goes quiet.

"So, you actually showed up," Coach Crane yells in his coarse voice. "I was half expecting you to chicken out."

"Then it sounds like you've got the wrong impression of me."

(Your friend told you not to get cocky.)

Screw that; this guy's an asshole.

Coach Crane simply scowls. I notice that we're not alone – another student, this one in a black track suit, is sitting on the bench behind the coach. He has short black hair and is moderately tan; he seems to be of Hawaiian descent. The student stands and approaches me with his hand outstretched.

(Hierophant.)

"You must be Tyson, huh?"

"Yeah, that's me," I reply as I shake his hand. "How do you know my name?"

"You're the new kid, aren't you? Names of new people spread fast. I'm in your grade. Name's Mike Roza. I'm the captain of the track team."

"Don't take this the wrong way, but…why are you here?" I ask.

"Because, shortstack," Coach Crane answers. "You're gonna race him."

"…I'm gonna what?"

"If you beat him in one lap around the whole track, I'll give you the forms. You'll bring them in on Monday and I'll add you to the roster. Easy as that."

Easy?! That track is, like, a mile long!

(Chill, kid. You've got this.)

Oh, sonow you're on my side?

(Let's be honest; I didn't really have much of a choice to begin with.)

The two of us walk towards the starting line, my heart rate suddenly climbing. I see Mike stretching and decide to follow by example. It's then that I realize I have absolutely no idea what I'm doing and that I'm way over my head here.

"Ready…"

Mike crouches down in a starting position as Coach Crane whips out his stopwatch.

Wait, shit, I'm not done stretchi-

"Set…"

Son of a bitch.

I get into the starting position as well.

(You've got this, kid.)

"Go!"

The two of us kick off, launching into a full sprint. I remember one of the tricks to running in gym class was to pace myself, so I plan on starting slow and-…okay, Mike doesn't have the same plan. I've now found myself a good couple feet behind him as we reach the first turn. I kick up the pace and catch up with him, the two of us nearly running side by side.

I can't lose…I'm not gonna lose…

Over the next stretch of track, I notice Mike is already becoming fatigued but is still putting his all into it. I, on the other hand, don't feel tired in the slightest. Mike continues to press on however, and the two of us are neck and neck until we reach the second turn, at which point Mike speeds ahead. I put the rest of my strength into my sprint, keeping my eyes glued to the ground. I see a thick white line speed past me and I slow myself to a stop. Using my knees as support, I crouch down and try to slow my heart back down with slow breathing. The sound of paper hitting the ground catches my attention, and I look beside my feet to see a slightly crumpled track signup form staring back at me. Glancing up, I see Coach Crane storming off out of the football field.

"Con-…congratulations, man…" Mike says from behind me, short of breath. I pick up the form and fold it up into my pocket. "That was crazy…I haven't had a close race like that in years…"

"You were pretty impressive yourself," I say to him, finding it interesting that I'm not as tired as he is. "I can see why you're the captain."

"Well, keep that up, and you might just be co-captain," he says with a smirk. "Glad to have you on the team, Tyson. Looking forward to running with ya." He shakes my hand once again, this time firmer than before.

SMASH

Kickass.

Thou art I,
And I am thou.

Thou hast established a new bond,
One that brings freedom ever closer.

Thou shalt be blessed when thou choosest
to make a Persona of the Hierophant Arcana…

As Mike leaves the same way Coach Crane had, I turn my attention to Ixion.

Alright, what was that? That wasn't all me.

(You're half right. Like you told him, you're fast. The speed was all you.)

And the endurance?

(Having a Persona…does things to people. My being here causes a spike in your durability so you can fight for a longer time, among other things.)

So you pretty much make me physically stronger?

(And the same will happen to anyone else who gets a Persona.)

…wait, so I'm not the only one?

(You thought you were? Geez, kid. I thought you were smarter than that.)

{~}

As it turns out, I don't need to ride a bike or be driven to places, because if I keep a steady pace I can jog virtually anywhere without getting tired. Of course, either of the other methods are faster and not to mention less suspicious, but it's nice to know I have options.

I open the door to the house and find Aunt Joanne home as well and on the phone with a friend. She waves as I come inside and I return the gesture, then point upstairs with one hand and make a phone gesture with the other. She nods and gives me a thumbs-up. I then retreat to my room to change out of my somewhat sweaty clothes and to pass the time, first pulling out my journal for a new entry.

"August 9th, 2013 – I've awakened to my Persona and it makes me physically stronger. Pretty awesome. I haven't had nightmares since Ixion appeared and I've been sleeping easier, too. I've joined the track team and have gotten Social Links for Aunt Joanne, Emile, and Mike."

Knock, knock

Aunt Joanne steps into my room, having hung up with her friend.

"Did you want to talk to me?" she asks.

"Yeah, Emile needs a place to stay this Saturday and I told him he could stay here. Is that alright?"

Aunt Joanne goes quiet, seeming indecisive.

Shit, that's not a good sign.

"I don't know, Tyson…" she confesses. "Last time you were with him, you guys weren't exactly safe. It's my job to keep you out of trouble, and by the looks of things, Emile isn't making that job easier."

"Oh, come on," I retort. "I was protecting him. He was getting bullied, so I stood up for him. I thought that would be a good thing?"

"…I didn't say it wasn't," she says. "I'm just worried about you is all. If anything happens to you, it's ultimately my fault. I don't know if I'd be able to live with knowing you got hurt."

She raises a good point, but I'm not about to go back on the promise I made to Emile.

"It's just for one night. What harm could come out of that? Besides, I'm not going to get hurt. I'm stronger than you think I am. Can't you trust me?"

(You're too good at flipping things around on people, kid.)

She stares at me for a moment, contemplating the situation. "Just promise me you'll stay out of trouble from now on, okay? I don't want anything bad to happen to you."

I smile at her. "I promise. I'll be okay."

She smiles in return, then approaches me and does the last thing I expected – she hugs me.

SMASH

Wait, what?!

Thou art I,
And I am thou.

Thou hast strengthened thy bond
To the Second Rank.

Thou shalt be blessed when thou choosest
to make a Persona of the Sun Arcana…

Second rank?! How many ranks are there?!

(Looks like you've got a ways to go.)

Aunt Joanne releases me from her embrace and leaves my room with a somber expression on her face. Our conversation plays back in my head as I sit at my desk.

"Promise me you'll stay out of trouble?"

"I promise."

I glance over to my nightstand table drawer, the image of the gun resurfacing once again.

She can't find it…she can't see that…

{~}

-Saturday, August 10th, 2013-

"The woman is still alive, but her heart rate is catastrophically low. Doctors are still unable to determine the cause of the anomaly and are unsure how much longer she will hold on."

The door to the garage opens and I poke my head over the couch to see Aunt Joanne walking in with plastic bags all the way up her forearms.

"Could you help me out, Tyson?" she begs under the strain of the bags.

"Yeah, sure," I agree, abandoning the television to retrieve the remaining bags from the van. "What's all this?"

"Groceries, of course," my aunt responds. "We're running low on food. I got you and Emile some pop and snacks, too. When is he going to show up?"

"At eight or so."

"Are you staying in your room?"

"Guess so, yeah. You have an air mattress?"

"Yeah, let me go find it and you can blow it up. Then we gotta make sure the house is clean."

"Sure thing."

Just as the two of us finish making the house look presentable, the doorbell rings, and Emile enters the house with his backpack and pillow.

"'Sup, dude?" he greets as he enters the door. "Hi, Ms. Tyson's aunt."

Aunt Joanne laughs at Emile's remark. "Hello to you, too, Emile."

…whatis Aunt Joanne's last name?

"Where do I…?" Emile asks, motioning to his belongings.

"O-oh, right…" I motion for Emile to follow me and lead him to my room, where an inflatable mattress is positioned in the center of the floor. He drops his pillow and backpack onto the mattress and almost immediately begins sifting through my video game cases, which are piled up inside the lower shelf of my entertainment center.

"Got anything good?" he asks with a smirk.

"Depends on what you consider good!" I joke. I shove him out of my way with my foot and crouch down myself, retrieving my favorite picks from the collection. I quite literally toss the games at Emile's head, some of which he catches while the others smack him in the face. "Pick any of 'em. Doesn't matter to me," I say while booting up the TV and system. I take a sideways glance at Emile and flash an evil smirk. "Just know your ass is getting kicked either way."

Surprisingly enough, Emile doesn't totally suck at video games. I schooled him in a couple racing games, but he completely wrecked me in some first-person shooter matches and held up pretty well in some fighting games. He didn't really strike me as the kind of guy to play many games, so this shocked me quite a bit.

"K.O!" the announcer yells.

"Dammit!" Emile drops the controller out of rage. "How do you keep doing that?!"

"Uppercut and Slamdown combo," I confess. "Pull that off and he's the most broken character in the game."

"Well that's not fair!" Emile complains with his hand gesturing towards the TV. "How the hell am I even supposed to stand a chance when you won't even let me touch you!"

My phone vibrates on my desk, alerting me that Aunt Joanne had texted me.

-Dinner-

"Come on, loser," I tell Emile. "Food."

{~}

"You ever get so bored you feel like you're going to go nuts?"

It is now the dead of night and the two of us have turned in for the day after countless hours of video games. Emile is lying on the air mattress, staring into the ceiling and spitting out philosophy, while I'm just trying to get some sleep.

"Sometimes," I tell him. "Doesn't everyone?"

"I guess," Emile says. "But I feel like we've got it worse. Nothing ever happens in this town. Like, ever."

That remark causes me to roll onto my other side to look at Emile.

"Seriously? Nothing at all?"

"W-…yeah…" he states, obviously confused. "Why do you seem so freaked out?"

Because more stuff has happened to me here within a week than living in New York my whole life.

"No reason…" I lie, turning back to face the wall.

"I just want something exciting to happen, y'know?"

"What, getting beat up in the bathroom wasn't enough excitement for you?"

"Well, okay, that was a first…but still."

The room is silent for a moment until I hear the tearing of a wrapper. I look over my shoulder to find Emile biting into an unwrapped cheese stick.

"Really? Food this late?" I ask.

"Dude, I'm starving."

"You had at least ten slices of pizza."

"Is being hungry a crime?" he questions.

"No, but don't come crying to me when your breath smells like shit in the morning."

"Whatever, man. So hey, what do you think of Ally?"

The question catches me slightly off guard.

"H-huh? Why? Does she ask about me?"

Emile just laughs. "No, I'm just curious. You've been here a week and haven't showed any interest in any girls, so I thought I'd ask."

"Well like you said, I've been here a week. I'm not going to fall for someone that quickly."

"But you're not even interested in anyone?"

"…I'm keeping my options open."

(Hey, kid. I found something…)

'Found something'? What does that even mean?

"Why, are you interested in anyone?" I ask Emile.

(Remember how I said a barrier was keeping me from coming out? Opposite that is some sort of bridge. I can't explain it, but it looks important.)

Can you cross it?

"W-well…sort of…" Emile answers. "But I don't think she feels the same way."

(We're connected, kid. I've gotta take you with me, and you need to be unconscious for me to do that.)

So you want Emile to punch me out?

(No, dumbass. Just fall asleep.)

"Why not ask her?" I suggest.

"Someday. But not now."

"You won't find out until you do. Worth the risk, I'd say."

"…I'll think about it. I just don't want to be turned down. Rejection is the worst."

"I know how you feel, but don't worry too much about it. If it's meant to be, it'll happen."

The two of us fall silent, having run out of things to talk about. I begin to think on Emile's words, images of all the girls I've met flashing through my head. As my subconscious slips, vivid fantasies of me protecting them and spending time with them play through my mind like a movie. As the scenes progress, they begin fading into a blue haze, and my body feels a sense of calm and relief as my mind separates from it and travels into a dream.

{~}

So this is what's on the other side…

(Not what I expected…)

What, you expected rainbows and unicorns?

The bridge Ixion mentioned has taken us to some sort of light blue void-like dimension. Underneath my feet is a large round pattern of stone, almost resembling a public plaza of some kind. Facing the plaza is a massive clock tower, the hands occasionally flickering and changing position. At the base of the tower is a massive two-part door that looks impossible to open, due in part to both the size of the door and the large mechanism in the center that resembles some sort of futuristic lock. Black tendrils snake out of the sides of the slab and around the clock tower and across the floor of the plaza. Aside from that frightening sight, nothing else can be seen; beyond the plaza is vast nothingness cast in a thick crystalline blue fog.

What even is this place?

(I'm not sure…but it's like some sort of inner realm of your mind. I think the bridge took us further into it.)

Am I dreaming? But it's so vivid…is this what lucid dreaming is like?

(Must be.)

Weird, though…you're supposed to be able to control everything that happens in a lucid dream, and I'm trying to fly but it's not working.

(Then either this isn't what you think it is or something's restricting you.)

The sounds of footsteps call my attention, causing me to quickly turn on my heel to face the source of the sound. As I do so, I hear the slam of a door and find nothing behind me.

"Who's there?!" I call out, my voice travelling out into the abyss.

(Where'd you get the sword?)

I look down to my outstretched right hand, and in its grasp is the sword from my last nightmare. Somehow, it has reappeared out of thin air, most likely in response to the sound. As my adrenaline fades, I close my eyes for a moment, imagining what my hand would look like without the sword. Opening my eyes, I find that the sword has vanished, seemingly by my will alone.

At least I can do that, I guess.

(…that wasn't there before…)

What wasn't?

To the right of the clock tower facing the plaza is a large structure that looks incredibly familiar.

Isn't that…

(It's your school.)

Looming before me is a replication of the front of Gode High School, but only the front staircase and doorway. The rest of the building fades away into the fog like it doesn't exist. The black tentacles from the clock tower stretch and wrap around this building as well, as if they aim to consume the whole realm.

Something doesn't feel right here…

(You feel it too?)

Similar to my last nightmare, the pressure in the area seems strong, as if a malevolent force intends to crush me against the surface of the ground. The dark presence is almost overwhelming. Just then, a thought strikes me. If I heard a door close, then…

I run up the staircase of the "school" and look into the glass door, only I can't see inside. All I can see is a pink void, like this is some sort of game that hasn't loaded all the textures. I look down to the handle of the door. Maybe if I open it, I'll be able to go inside. As I'm about to pull the door open, Ixion speaks up.

(We should leave.)

I'm about to argue with him, but my better judgment tells me he's right. That dark presence feels dangerous, like I'm being taunted and told to run for my own good. It's not quite the fight or flight response, but a deep-seated gut feeling is urging me to flee.

…yeah. We should. Can you take me back home?

(I think it might wake your body up, but yes, I can. Hang tight.)

{~}

My eyes flutter open and I have reappeared in my room. The absence of the evil pressure feels like a huge relief and I take a deep lung-filling breath. I roll onto my side and close my eyes, slowing my breathing to get me back to sleep. I've been told by plenty of people to think about what happened over the past few days in your head to fall asleep faster, so I decide to give it a shot.

"Is this what lucid dreaming is like?"

I roll again, this time shoving my face into the pillow.

"C'mon, Beth, everybody has had a lucid dream at some point in their lives."

Realizing I left my ceiling fan on, I pull the covers closer to my cold body.

"…it seems as though Bethany Jones, a morning talk show host for a local radio station in the small town of Gode, North Dakota, was found unmoving in her bed this afternoon after her coworkers grew suspicious of her not showing up for work earlier this morning."

A tug in my gut suddenly appears, one that sends a panic up my spine.

"I…think you have to eat cheese or something."

My head snaps up from my pillow, my mind suddenly alert and awake. I throw the covers off and look down at Emile.

Oh my god…there's no way…those can't be connected…

"Emile…Emile? Dude, wake up…"

No response.

"Emile!" I call out to his sleeping form, louder this time, and I grab him by the shirt and shake him.

(Whoa, kid, what's your deal?!)

"Emile!"

He simply slumps down onto the bed, unmoving and limp. No matter how hard I try to wake him, he simply won't respond.

"Shit…no…this isn't happening…"

(What's wrong with him?)

He won't wake up.

(Sleep paralysis?)

No…something worse. It's gotta be what happened to that talk show host. She got dared into trying lucid dreaming, and the next day, she's in a coma. Those can't be a coincidence.

I begin thinking of various courses of action to take, knowing that I have to save my friend. My mind reels into a desperate panic, knowing that if I don't do something, he might not ever wake up. Do I keep trying to wake him up, call 911, get Aunt Joanne…

(We go back in.)

…what?

(You said it yourself, that realm was a lucid dream, and he's in one now according to your reasoning. Plus, we heard someone else in there. That could've been him.)

So what, you're telling me our dreams were connected? That doesn't even make any sense!

(Out of all the things you've seen lately, this is what you're questioning?)

Shouldn't we get the paramedics instead?

(What're they going to do? It's been almost a week and they still haven't found out what's up with that other lady.)

I look down at Emile's body, my throat choking up. He may be sleeping, but he seems different than someone's who's in a normal rest. He looks weak. Helpless. Broken. It's almost a reflection of how I feel at the moment; he's in trouble and I'm powerless to stop it.

The memory of summoning Ixion for the first time comes back to me. I recall how that hulking shadow, despite being much larger than me, found its demise by my hand. With a steeled resolve, I return to my bed, lying flat on my back.

Do it.

{~}

As I open the door to the replica of the school, the pink wall twists and contorts into some sort of portal, and I step in, my sword pointed out in front of me. The portal feels like walking through a massive slab of jelly, and as I come out the other side I find that the building isn't as accurate to the school as I thought it would be. The walls and floors are built exactly the same, only the structure of the school itself seems to have no rhyme or reason, as if it's just one gargantuan maze. It looks to be devoid of any students, which is to be expected. I look up to the ceiling, seeing the welcome banners are torn and tattered, and the signs above the hallways dictating which hall is which have nothing but nonsense scribbled on them. Most shocking of all, however, are the massive posters of Emile's face plastered all across the walls, the captions reading, 'Swim Champ 2013 – Emile Truman'.

"What a guy!"

I quickly look around; I search for the source of the voice, but no one can be seen.

"He's so talented!" another voice agrees.

"I wish I was like him. He's so cool!" a girl swoons.

"There's no way I could swim as fast as him," a guy says, but with admiration as opposed to sadness.

The disembodied voices echo down the halls, making the place seem even more desolate and disturbing.

What is this?!

(I don't have the answers to everything, kid.)

As I turn the corner of one of the hallways, I hear a sort of slurping noise behind me. With my sword pointed in front of me, my arms shaking, I twist to face the sound. One of the posters on the wall had ripped open, and black goo is seeping out from the tear in Emile's face. The gelatinous mass drops off the wall and begins to move, slinking towards me. Two red piercing eyes open on the front end, and two thin gangly arms with spidery fingers reach up out of the substance. As it reaches for me, I stab the end of my blade into its center, hoping to vanquish the thing quickly. The arms retract in response and the eyes disappear.

"That was easy," I say to myself with a smirk.

As if the universe decided to give me the middle finger today, the shadowy mass splits in two and each part convulses and ripples, both of them lifting off the ground and growing into ball-like shapes. The two forms change color, becoming radiant blue with black stripes. One end suddenly forms a pair of lips and teeth, and a giant tongue flies out of the newly-formed mouth. The other end is now donning an emotionless mask, and the sides with the mouths turn to face me, letting out a small rumbling growl.

"Alright, that is the creepiest and most disgusting thing I have ever seen!" I call out to the emptiness of the school.

The first tongue creature flies forward, whipping its only appendage back and swinging it up towards my face. I sidestep and spin on my heel, slicing the edge of my sword into the back of the creature, opening up a black gash in its backside and spilling a sort of black and red goop into the air. The second creature catches me by surprise from behind and whips me with its tongue, the blow shoving me into the wall.

"I take it back – that is the most disgusting thing!" I say with a shudder.

I lift my left hand up to the air, a blue glowing card appearing from nowhere and floating down into my palm. The card spins on its corner, emitting a flurry of power. I search for something cool to say while in the moment.

"Persona!"I yell with a power in my stomach I didn't know I had. My hand clasps down, crushing the card in my grip and causing the sound of breaking glass to echo through the hall. A shockwave flies around me as Ixion takes physical form in the air above me. His snaps his fingers as he's done before and fire erupts around the creature, casting it back with a loud thwacking noise. As Ixion vanishes again, the second creature, having recovered rushes me from the side, meaning to use the same attack again. This time, I take it head-on, jumping forward with my sword pointed outward. The blade pierces the inside of the creature's mouth and exits out the other side through the mask's nose. The goo blasts out from both ends of the wound as the entire being explodes into nothingness. I take the opportunity to pounce on the other creature and finish it off with a downward strike.

(Feeling good?)

Never better.

The dinging sound of the PA system activating plays out and an unrecognizable voice follows.

"Would Tyson Rayne please report to the pool? Tyson Rayne, please report to the pool."

I smirk and continue down the hallway. "Guess where we're going?"

As I round the corner, another dark glob crawling against the floor spots me. It flails its arms as it slithers near, and I slam the edge of my sword down the middle of it, violently splitting it this time. As the tongue creatures take form, I summon forth Ixion and have him strike one down with Cleave while I slice the other one's tongue clean off. The dark liquid sprays across the walls and my clothes as the two creatures fall to our blades. I take off running down the hallway, keeping my blood pumping and my action streak going.

A couple hallways and slayings later, a downward staircase presents itself.

(Could be a trap.)

They always say that in movies and it always is.

(Then why go in?)

Because they always get out of it alive, too.

I take off down the stairs, and as I do so the PA system repeats the announcement once again but with more intensity.

Another dark creature dies at the end of my sword, and afterwards I feel a surge of energy inside me.

(Hey, kid. I've got a new skill.)

Tch…did we just level up?

(I don't even know what that means.)

This level of the school is considerably darker than the last, and the posters of Emile are more frequent, some of them larger than others.

"He's the best guy in the world, isn't he?"

I ignore the echoing voices as I rush down the hall.

"I wish I could be like him."

"Me too! He's like…not lame at all!"

"I wanna have his babies!"

(What was that last one…?)

Don't talk about it.

Another shadowy mass approaches, only this time it splits into three of the tongue creatures. The change in numbers catches me off guard and I suffer a lick to the face, but I dispatch them rather quickly. Suddenly, time stops in a similar fashion to when I make a Social Link, and four cards appear before me.

(Shuffle Time,)my Arcana voice announces.

One card is black with a large gray X across the front, two of them have red swords on them, but the fourth's face is decorated with blue trim and the portrait of a small female fairy donned in blue armor with her hand reaching out. The Roman numeral for one is underneath the portrait in white. The cards begin to spin around in front of me after flipping to their perfectly identical backsides, making it difficult for me to recall which card is which. I blink as the card I believe to be the fairy's reaches the spot closest to me in its pattern, but the card flips over to reveal one of the sword cards. The remaining cards vanish and the one before me shatters, then time returns to its normal speed.

(You've got a new weapon in here, kid. I'm going to guess you can swap them out.)

As predicted by Ixion, I willed the current wooden-handled sword to disappear and a new one spawned in its place, this one having a bronze handle and a slightly wider blade. I give it a couple test swings to get a feel for its weight before continuing through the maze of a school. The next glob to appear split into two different creatures this time, turning into floating hairpieces wearing red crowns and violet masquerade masks. The first one makes a screeching noise as its hair flails. A burst of fire pushes me backwards, a slight burning pain searing across my skin.

Oh, great. They know Agi.

I jump forward and retaliate with three successive strikes to the creature's "face", causing it to fall the ground and dissipate into a pile of goo. The second one ditches the fire spell and instead dives straight at me, ramming its crown into my chest and throwing me back. I quickly reach my feet and slice it across its horizontal center, cutting it open and causing it to squeal loudly. I find myself panting somewhat heavily, and I now realize that all this fighting it tiring me out.

(Can't stop now, kid. You gotta get to Emile.)

Knowing Ixion's correct, I push through the next couple floating crown things before finding another staircase. The PA announcer says nothing, but I find a large crack in the wall beside the staircase. A bright blue light filters through it as if it's drawing me in. I approach it and try to see what's beyond the crack, but it's so skinny it's like looking through a keyhole. A white light engulfs my vision without warning, and next thing I know, I'm in the hallway of the normal version of the school, only everything is in black and white, save for a student standing at his locker. I instantly recognize the color figure as Emile, taking notice to the long hair and ever-so-slight hanging of his head. As Emile retrieves his items, three larger boys walk past him, one of them purposefully ramming his shoulder into Emile's back. The other two laugh and Emile simply stares into his locker, but I can tell through the look in his eyes that he noticed. It's that hazed film over the eyes that shows that there's a soul trapped in there that's screaming for help and just can't do it itself. The scene begins to blur and change into the school's lunchroom. This time, Emile approaches a portion of the table with two girls, the both of them deep in conversation.

"How are you bodacious women doing today?" he says, as if expecting that to be an even remotely useable pickup line. "Ashley, I see you're as beautiful as ever."

"O-oh…hey, Emile…" the girl he calls Ashley says with slight annoyance.

"Mind if I sit with you two?"

The two girls give each other a sideways glance before silently agreeing to get up and move somewhere else, despite the protests of a disappointed Emile. The boy sighs and sits with his head propped up with his arm. To put salt in the metaphorical wound, a boy who I remember to be the bully I beat up for Emile just so happens to be a little further down the table with a group of his friends.

"'Sup, Emily?"

"Leave me alone, Joe. I'm not in the mood." The higher pitch in Emile's voices suggests this took place at least a year ago.

Of course, the brute wouldn't take that as an answer. "Heard you scored the lowest on the swim records again," he taunts. "Must suck being at the bottom."

"I said leave me alone," Emile retorts in a stronger tone.

"What're you gonna to? Tell on me?" Joe scoffs. He shakes his head and returns to his lunch, muttering, "Fag," under his breath. His friends chuckle alongside him.

Having enough, Emile turns to the bully and says, "Get over yourself."

Joe looks back at Emile. "Wanna run that by me again?" Being answered by silence, Joe continues. "Why don't you go back to your little girlfriend and complain to her about your shit. Oh, wait, sorry. Boyfriend."

Emile's hand moves in front of his eyes, as if reinforcing a broken dam. He says nothing as the other friends continue to tease him, picking apart every little thing about him, from his hair to how he apparently bumps into people in the halls to how he got humiliated by the teacher when he fell asleep in class. Finally, the scene fades to white and I've found myself back in the demented edition of our school. I take a moment to reflect on what I've seen, deducing that those were Emile's repressed memories.

That's what he meant by 'the usual'. People have been mocking him for years, and he normally ignores them and shrugs it off, but all that bottled up rage eats at him.

(He's a trooper.)

The crack in the wall now has no light coming from it. I look beside it and see one of the posters claiming that Emile had set some sort of record on the team.

"Maybe if I worked harder, I could be as good as him."

"Emile is so cool. He's everybody's friend."

"The pride of the school, ain't he?"

I listen to the voices as I trudge down the hallway, ignoring the rest of the monsters and finding the next staircase, determined to finish what I came here to do.

The next floor is, surprisingly enough, the exact layout of the normal school's first floor, only the torn posters are scattered across the walls and the world outside the windows is nonexistent, only appearing as inky blackness.

"Tyson Rayne, report to the pool."

I find the door easily enough, but that evil presence is even stronger here than it was outside.

(Get ready, kid.)

Deep breath…deep breath…

I throw open the door, the smell of chlorine burning my nose. The water is still and clear, but the lights at the ceiling flicker as if they're about to burn out.

"They love me, don't they?"

The voice of a high school boy ricochets off the wide open space, carrying from the opposite end of the pool to me.

"Emile?!"

All the way across the pool is Emile in a black swimsuit, on his knees, staring at the massive timer on the wall. The time constantly shifts, never staying on one for long. The boy is unmoving, being adored by the students in the bleachers, mouthing words that I can't hear.

"Listen to them, Tyson!" Emile says with sudden gusto, getting to his feet and raising his arms in the air. "They love me!"

"Emile…" I say with an increasing worry. "This is going to be hard for you to hear, but none of this is real. This is just a dream. And I'm here to get you out."

The swimmer's faces changes to one of confusion. "A dream? What're you talking about? How is this a dream?"

"Well, for one, we're having a completely audible conversation from two ends of a pool."

Emile ignores my quip and motions towards the clock. "Look at that, man! I did that! I did something worthwhile and they all love me for it! I couldn't be happier!"

He must see this way differently than I do.

"Emile, stop. I get it. You want to be respected and appreciated, but this isn't the way to do it," I reason with him.

"Why aren't you happy for me?" Emile says with slight anger. "You're my friend. You should be glad."

"I am your friend, which is why I'm telling you to snap out of it! It's just a dream! It's some kind of illusion your mind came up with to create your own little perfect life, but meanwhile you're actually in my room not waking up, and dammit, that scares me shitless! So wake up already and let's get out of here!"

I hadn't noticed before, but I wish I had now. Black clouds of smoke have begun to approach Emile, gathering around him.

"But…everything's perfect…" he says, now seemingly detached from what's occurring around him. "I've got all I wanted…this can't be a dream…there's no way…"

"I'm sorry, Emile," I console him, hoping I can convince him to leave with me before the clouds envelop him. "But we need to leave. This place is dangerous. I know it seems perfect here and way better than your real life, but don't worry. You've got me and Ally out in the real world. Whatever crap you face, we'll be there for you, even if everyone else steps all over you."

Familiar whispers increase in volume, echoing loudly enough to sound like a real voice.

Stay…stay…you'll be happy…stay…

The voices immediately remind me of the first nightmare I had here in Gode. This same thing happened with the dream of my mother, and I almost died in the next nightmare I had. My level of panic reaches a peak, and I realize that Emile's in incredible danger if I don't get him out of this dream right now.

"Emile, you gotta listen to me, we need to…leave…"

I trail off as I notice the cloud of black gas has collected around Emile so thick that's like a sheet of darkness, but the wall is keeping its distance, as if there's a bubble around him keeping it away. The clouds dance in their place, agitated.

"B-but…I'm happy here…" his voice says. Suddenly, his head snaps up, and his eyes become a deep yellow. His voice immediately drops multiple octaves; other higher-pitched voices layering overtop his own. "And I'm not leaving!"

The black clouds suddenly collapse in on Emile and spin around him like a twister. A sudden blast within it causes such a shockwave that the water inside the pool gets shot away from him, and I duck in cover as the gargantuan wall of water crashes on top of me. I look up as the rain subsides and realize I've somehow gotten into the empty pool, which has now become so large the walls tower over us. I look to find that Emile has drastically changed. He's now in a long purple king's robe, complete with golden crown and scepter. His throne is attached to a sort of parade float being held up by six muscular silhouettes that seem to be straining under the weight of the structure, but it looks more like they're bowing than lifting.

"Everybody will bow down and respect me, no matter what it takes!"the king yells in his multiple voices. He slams the butt of his scepter against his float, and the front end opens to reveal three massive cannons. "I'm done with being the target!"

Oh, son of a bitch…

The middle cannon fires and I force myself to run to the side out of range, only for another cannon to swivel and fire, the cannonball exploding on the ground in front of me.

(He's not Emile anymore, kid. Feel free to pound him into oblivion.)

Not like I have much of a choice!

I run forward, diving to the ground and sliding underneath the next cannonball. I jump up one of the silhouettes like a staircase and greet King Emile with a sword butt to the face.

"You dare defy my orders?! Those who don't submit aren't even worthy to be in my presence!"

This whole world is blowing everything way out of proportion…!

King Emile reels his staff back and gives it a strong swing in my direction. The force of the blow being stronger than I expected, I get thrown off of the float and land with a thud on the ground.

"I'll stamp out anyone who gets in my way!"

With another slam of the scepter, all three cannons lower towards me. As I get on my feet, I recall that Ixion had obtained a new skill I hadn't used yet. The card appears in front of me and I stab it through with my sword.

"Rakukaja!"

An orb of swirling yellow energy surrounds me as Ixion adjusts his glasses. The effect of this new skill isn't apparent until the cannons open fire, exploding on top of and around me, and I feel considerably less pain than I had from even his scepter strike.

"Agi!" I yell, summoning Ixion once more, this time to cast the fire spell on the front-left man holding the float up. I figure that if they can't move the float, it'll have much less mobility and it'll have a harder time hitting me. Luckily for me, the man disappears with a burst of black sludge, much like the creatures I fought on the way here.

(We've got company, kid.)

The black piles of gunk that form into the monsters have begun to sneak down into the pool, observing us and waiting for the right moment to strike.

(I think the fighting is going to attract more. We gotta finish this, and fast.)

"End him!"King Emile decrees. Upon command, the remaining five men holding the float charge forward in an attempt to ram me with it, but I counter by sliding under the float as it approaches me, and I manage to slice the ankles of the left-middle and back-right men, causing them to both topple over and explode in the black sludge. With King Emile in shock, I take the opportunity to strike.

"Agi!"

The fire blast envelops the king, but unfortunately he appears to be unscathed. He instead raises his staff to me, and the end of it opens up to reveal a spinning blade sort of contraption. The blades begin to twist and a wall of green wind blasts outward. Running around the float to dodge the attack unfortunately puts me straight into the range of the cannons, and they open fire straight at point-blank. I have no choice but to brace myself and defend. I grunt as the explosions rack me, sending me skittering across the floor. I somehow manage to hold on to my sword, however, and I see an opening clear as day. I whip my arm back and toss the blade through the air, and it spins and lodges itself into the chest of the front-right man. The toss was imperfect, though, and it's landed slightly to the left of its heart. Despite that, its reeling in pain is the opening I need. I cast Agi again, this time on the back-left man, and it falls over. With the weight now uneven across the float, the right-side men drop it right on top of the remaining left one. King Emile now topples off the float and onto the floor, enraged more than ever.

"You miserable peasant!"

King Emile snaps his fingers, commanding the two remaining men to abandon the crashed float and come to his aid, one of them still having my sword in its chest. His scepter opens up again, throwing the gale force winds in my direction, tossing me aside like a ragdoll.

I can't take much more…I'm exhausted…

(Me too, kid. I don't know how many more spells I can pull off. We gotta make this count.)

On instinct, I try to summon my other sword back into my hand, but I find that I can't do it. Devising a plan to retrieve the blade the sidekick has, I run to the right towards it. As expected, King Emile isn't all that bright and he continues to throw the razor-sharp gusts directly at me and instead manages to hit his own subject standing between us, who can't gather the strength to move out of the way. It disappears into black oblivion and my sword clatters to the ground. In a fit of rage, King Emile instead attempts to charge me head-on with a horizontal swing to my head. I duck and punch upwards into his gut, then sock him in the face as he recoils. With him stunned, I run over to retrieve my sword and take the time to dispatch the remaining subject, who remains kneeling despite the obvious impending threat. Now with just us two, I run after him and swing my blade; he blocks with his staff and bunts with the head of it, slamming my skull. I swing upwards at his arm, opening up a gash that spills out that black sludge. On my upswing, I flip the sword to a dagger grip and swing across his chest horizontally, and then flip my grip and swing again, creating a large X-shaped wound in his chest.

"What-…no…"

"Sorry, Emile…but this is for your own good."

I thrust forward, piercing my blade straight into his heart.

"AAAAAUGH!"

Everything around us slowly fades to white as King Emile falls to his knees, the black gunk spraying out all over the both of us in slow-motion. A sound like that of a power generator shutting down can be heard as the two of us collapse.

{~}

Emptiness. That's all I see now. I see an expanse of white, like we're in a realm of nothingness.

"Emile…hey, buddy…" I say as I try to help his unconscious form up. He's returned back to his normal state, now donning the t-shirt and black nylon shorts he had when he fell asleep. Emile groans and opens his eyes, which are thankfully their regular brown color.

"What-…what the hell happened…"

"It's a long story…"

"Tell me. I wanna know."

The determination in his voice catches me off guard. His eyes catch the cuts throughout my shirt and skin.

"I did that, didn't I?"

"…you remember?"

"Yeah…yeah, I do," he confesses. "I fell asleep, and everything was real fuzzy. But I kept walking around and, eventually, I found our school…but it was different. Everyone loved me and appreciated me, even though I didn't really do anything to deserve it besides breaking some dumb swim record. Nobody was mocking me or treating me like shit like they usually did. Girls were all over me like it was a normal thing. It was…perfect."

"And you decided to stay."

Emile sighs, seemingly holding back tears.

"Yeah…I did. It was so much better than my real life, that when I heard voices telling me to stay, I believed them. I had no reason not to." He looks up at me, his eyes flashing nothing but shame. "My dumbass choice almost got you killed. Dude…I'm so sorry."

"It's not your fault," I tell him with my hand on his shoulder. "It's tempting. I know it is. The same thing happened to me."

Emile's face shows shock. "It did? How did you get out?"

"I didn't. I resisted it in the first place. My Persona helped, I think," I tell him.

"Persona…that's what that guy in that suit was? Persona?"

"His name's Ixion, actually, but he's a Persona. That's not the point, though. Look, we need to get you out of here. Your body is in a coma and I think we're still dreaming."

"Tyson, wait," Emile says, both of us on our feet now. I look at him, seeing his apologetic face. "If this sort of thing happened to us, who's to say it hasn't happened to someone else? Or if it will again?" I never considered the idea, though if Bethany Jones had gone into a coma, too, then presumably the same thing happened to her. Emile continues as I ponder the thought. "If other people are going to suffer like I did, then we need to make sure we'll be there to save them. I couldn't resist that alone. We need to be there for anyone else this happens to."

"So what're you suggesting?"

"Those dark things that I had attack you…that thing that possessed me and made me…" he chokes down his next words. "That thing that made me hurt you. It told me things while it was inside me, like there was another brain in my head. I know what their plans are. They're called Shadows, and they won't stop until they consume every human mind they can get their hands on. They're cruel and vicious, but they're also smart. I doubt anyone will be able to resist them like you did. They have a way of manipulating things, like they know your darkest secrets or something."

"So…you're saying you want to get rid of these…Shadows?"

"In any way that I can, yeah. Nobody else is going to be hurt if I have any say in it."

SMASH

A warm blue light surrounds Emile. The two of us look up, witnessing the figure of a shirtless muscular man floating above him. Black scruff covers his lower face and he's wielding a two-handed iron blade in one hand. In his other hand is a shield, decorated with the symbol for fire. His hair is in a buzz cut and his legs have thick armor on them. His face seems perpetually angry and he's in a battle-ready stance with his knees bent and his back hunched.

Thou art I.
I am thou.

I am Capaneus,
He who was struck down by the gods
For believing himself to be superior.

Allow me to aid you in your quest
To liberate the world of evil beings.

As quickly as he appeared, Capaneus vanishes and a blue playing card not unlike Ixion's appears in his place. It spins as it floats down, eventually reaching Emile's open hands and fading away. Emile glows brightly, the light emanating from his heart.

"I-…what is-…"

"That is a Persona," I say, smiling out of pure awe. "Looks like I'm not the only one with one now."

Emile looks at me, shocked beyond words.

"Wh-…wh-what do I do with it?"

"Exactly what you told me you'd do. Fight the Shadows."

Everything once again fades to nothing.

{~}

Both of us awaken at the same time. We lay there in silence, the only noise being the soft hum of the air conditioner and the dryer in the laundry room downstairs. The silence continues for about ten minutes, the two of us allowing the experience to sink in.

"So how long have you had the voice in your head?"

I chuckle slightly.

"About a week now."

"So that wasn't just some psychotic dream. That actually happened."

"Yeah. It did."

"…well, now what?"

I roll over and wince as a sharp pain rides up my shoulder. I see no visible cuts, but my nerves react anyways.

"We sleep."

Emile Truman's new power places freedom within reach.

He has awakened to the Persona Capaneus,

The façade used to overcome one's hardships.