Dear Reader,

In my many years spent observing humankind, I have come to the conclusion that strength is an oft-misunderstood idea. For many, strength is the ability to face the inherent terrors of one's existence with a brave face. That said, I have also found that the opposite may also be true. Knowing when to turn away when grief becomes too much to bear is also a form of strength.

If, son of man, you would prefer not to engage with concepts such as harassment and suicidal ideation, then please, I encourage you to tap into that strength, and proceed no further.

-P

When you were younger – much younger – you'd made the mistake of watching a scary movie about a woman that stood five meters tall and crawled into second-story windows to capture children. The only way to escape her clutches, you reasoned, was to encase yourself in a cocoon made of every blanket you owned and wait out the night in perfect silence.

Though you've long since stopped believing in ghosts, the complete and utter stillness of the sprawling celestial nightscape surrounding you brings those hushed, terrified nights to mind once more. Despite the seemingly limitless enormity of it all, not even your footsteps produce the slightest echo as you trudge towards the floating obelisk that looms in the distance. Like the heavy blankets you huddled beneath as a child, the void is possessed of its own muted weight which never leaves your shoulders.

Hayate…Koharu…Shigesato…their absence does little to alleviate the alien hostility that permeates the air, yet strangely, it doesn't bother you much. Although you'd be hard pressed to explain why, you feel as though they're still close by. Perhaps stepping through that portal separated you somehow. Either way, you're fairly certain that one way or another, you'll find each other again. With that in mind, you conclude that the only reasonable thing to do is continue your search for Souichiro Saito.

Before long, you reach another stone portal at the edge of the next platform. This time, you can feel a hum in the air as you draw near, setting off a small twinge in your head. A good shake clears it away and you step through, only to find yourself in the hall outside your school library. Golden daylight streams through the windows, and your arms are laden with books. But before you can get over the shock of suddenly being back in the real world, Souichiro rounds the corner accompanied by Chikara and Taishi. Upon spotting you, his curiosity piques, and he strides on over.

"Hey there! Did you need any help with those?"

Before he can come any closer, you summon Launcelot to run him through.

…Or at least that was your intent, but your Persona doesn't heed your call. Instead, acting of its own volition, your voice says something else.

"Ah! N-No, I g-got it."

What? Your mind is sending the commands to move and speak, but your body won't play along, making you little more than a captive observer.

Souichiro studies you, his brow furrowed and lips pursed in thought.

"…You're Katsuji-kun, right? First year?"

This can't be the same Souichiro you know. Otherwise, why would he have to ask? But if that's the case, then where are you?

"Y-Yes. T-T-Tetsuo Katsuji. And you're Saito-san, aren't you? You're running for Student Council President."

Now the pieces are starting to come together. This is another memory.

"Oh, so you've heard! I'm not very confident in my chances, but if my name is getting out there, I must be doing something right."

There's a hint of a gleam in the older boy's eyes that's closer to the Souichiro you know, but he reins it back in quickly.

"But that's neither here nor there. You seem like you're having a hard time, so please, let us carry a few of those for you. After all, I won't make a very good President if I don't look out for my fellow students."

"Well…if you say so…"

You look on as Souichiro takes a stack of books from your hands, passing a couple to Chikara and Taishi who accept them with slightly uncomfortable grimaces. A few other students come around the corner, and he flashes them a winning, toothy smile as they pass. One of them, a boy with a pair of shades perched atop his head, smiles and waves back.

"There we are," he grunts as he shifts a few reference books into a more comfortable position. "Much better now, right? So where were you headed with these?"

"J-Just my locker."

"Oh, well that's not too far, then," he says. "Let's head on over."

Although the stairs would be quicker, the four of you head to the elevators at the end of the hall and jostle inside. During the brief, silent ride, your mind churns. You recognize what's happening here, but the details aren't quite right.

This memory is also one of Nisekao's – you remember him telling you about how he got mixed up with that bully, Shibata, and his two cronies. But if that's the case, then why are Souichiro, Chikara, and Taishi here?

For that matter, why are they using your name?

The twinge in your head returns just as the elevator reaches the ground floor with a shudder and a ding. Chikara glances down at you with an expression stuck between confusion and mild annoyance, and jerks her chin towards the doors.

"C'mon already," she mumbles under her breath. Souichiro meets the remark with an icy glare that's gone as soon as you catch it.

"All right, here we are! Now, I've got track practice after school, so I can't today, but we should meet up again sometime, Katsuji-kun. Exams are coming up, after all. Maybe I can help you study."

A look of skepticism passes across Taishi's face, and judging from Souichiro's reaction, yours, too.

"Ah, c'mon now, Katsuji-kun, no need for faces like that. I'm only trying to be your friend."

With that, you exit the elevator after him, and emerge back onto the floating platform in Nisekao's Cloud.

"That was…"

You can speak for yourself again.

As you give your arms and legs a cursory shake just to see if you're truly back in control, you notice that you're no longer alone. You whirl about with a start to discover Hayate standing by himself in the center of the platform, fixing you with a guilty stare.

Before you can say anything, he speaks with a tone that's perfectly flat and devoid of emotion.

"I think most people knew what was going on when we saw you with him. He was using you as a tool to get elected, but even though I knew, I chose not to say anything. I didn't have many friends as it was, and I was afraid of making enemies. I chose ignorance, and you suffered. For this sin, I must atone. Will you forgive me?"

The request resonates. A lock slides open, and clarity begins to leak into the dim, starved recesses of your memory like slender rays of light breaching the cracks in a crumbling wall. With the dam breached, thoughts once left unsaid begin to spill out.

"If it had been you who reached out to me instead of him, I wonder if any of this would have happened at all? Come with me now. Be my brother in arms, and help me face what's ahead."

Hayate drops to one knee and bows.

"Of course. Let me be your strength of will."

You cross the platform, and place a palm on his shoulder.

"Then all is forgiven."

Nearby, there's a flash of light, and a new path unfurls into the darkness beyond, beckoning you onwards. The sight shakes you from your reverie, and you freeze as you think about what just happened.

Where did all that come from? That was Nisekao's memory, wasn't it? You turn to ask Hayate what he was talking about, but he doesn't seem aware of what just happened.

"Hey, you alright, man? Looking a little rattled there."

"But, you just…you were gone, and then you said…"

Flustered, you trail off as your thoughts collapse into a jumble of half-formed questions. Hayate tilts his head back at you.

"Gone? I've been here the whole time. Why don't we keep going? Souichiro's not gonna wait."

A sigh of resignation tumbles from your lips. He doesn't have a clue. The twinge in your head returns, urging you onwards.

"Yeah, let's…keep going then."

• • • • •

At the end of the path, another portal guards the entrance to the next platform. Just as before, its open mouth reveals nothing but empty space, but the tingling sensation racing across your skin says otherwise. The apprehension from earlier is slowly being smothered by a growing desire to satiate your own curiosity, to pick and prod at this strange, new connective tissue that links you, Souichiro, and Nisekao, and follow it to its source.

"You're coming in with me, right?" you ask Hayate, stopping just short of the threshold. He might not know what to make of all this either, but it'd be nice to know that you're not just going crazy.

"Yeah, sure. Is something up?"

"Last time" – you pause to reconsider – "you know what, why don't you just see for yourself?"

The two of you step through together onto the walkway outside Toshima High's front doors. The sky glows a bright amber, meaning that school has just let out for the day. Many of your fellow students stream past, but Hayate is nowhere to be found. Deep down, you suspected that this might be the case. These are windows only you are meant to peer through.

Immediately, you're struck by a rush of anxiety and a powerful need to leave school as quickly as possible. The shivers of dread running down your spine are visceral and real, and your emotions are also no longer entirely under your control. However, it doesn't feel like you're being puppeted about by some outside force. Instead, it's more like being put on autopilot with your body and mind executing a set of predetermined commands.

You hurry towards the front gates as quickly as you can manage, which, as it would seem, is not all that quick at all. Nevertheless, if you can just round the corner and disappear behind the wall, you'll be home free. Just a little farther – you can't deal with them again

Then you hear it. Three sets of footsteps approaching from behind, walking at a faster pace than everyone else – you can even recognize them by the sound of their shoes now.

A hand clasps your shoulder, arresting you in your tracks. It's over.

"Leaving already, Katsuji-kun?"

Souichiro's face looms overhead, dripping with smugness and turning your stomach hollow.

"Y-Yeah, I was j-just gonna go home today. M-Mom-"

Souichiro's smirk flattens instantly. He circles around in front of you and crouches down to eye level, cocking his head in mock confusion.

"Oh? This is the first I've heard about it. What about you?" he asks Taishi and Chikara, who've also come up alongside you. Predictably, they shake their heads no. "I thought we were going to study for exams."

"S-Senpai, exams were weeks ago…"

Souichiro places an arm around your shoulders and leans in close, causing you to recoil.

"So you're saying we should just stop? Maybe it's too far away for you to care about right now, but us? We'll be third years soon, Katsuji-kun. The entrance exams for university are going to be here before we know it. As your newly-elected Student Council President, I can't afford to look like I'm slacking off."

He stands back up and gives your head a demeaning little pat.

"So I'm afraid we're going to have to study again today. And don't worry – once we're done with our work, we'll even lend you a hand with some of yours – if it isn't too late by then, of course. Aren't you lucky to have a friend like me?"

"Y-Yeah, b-but…" you stammer, but Souichiro interrupts once again, making it impossible to get a word in edgewise.

"Great! Then why don't we head on over to the usual place in Ikebukuro? I know we've been there a bunch lately, but I just can't get over this craving for sushi, can you?"

The other two nod eagerly, and the way Chikara's nearly drooling at the suggestion implies that studying isn't exactly her top priority.

"Well, as long as we all agree, then that sounds like a plan! Can't study on an empty stomach, after all."

The three of them start to leave, but then Souichiro stops and looks back at you with a wicked curve in his lips.

"…We can rely on you to take care of the bill for us again, right, Katsuji-kun?"

The three older students stare you down, waiting for the reply that they've grown accustomed to. There's a dull ache forming in your temple where the twinge used to be, and your hands ball into trembling, useless fists. They did this every day for weeks. Preying on your naïvety, your desire to belong, forcing you to ask Mom for more money than she could afford to lend you day in and day out, yet she did anyways because she was so overjoyed to hear that you'd made friends –

"No!"

The syllable halts them in their tracks, and they slowly turn to face you.

"I'm sorry?"

Souichiro's bewilderment is worth savoring, if only for a moment before the implications of what you've just said set in.

"I-I can't today…I don't have enough money."

Hearing yourself talk like this is making you seethe inwardly. If you could only speak for yourself, there's so much you'd rather say.

"Sounds like an excuse to me," sneers Taishi as he stares down his thin nose at you. "You know, it doesn't seem like you're doing much to carry your weight in this friendship."

"You oughta be grateful to have friends like us," adds Chikara.

Souichiro heaves a mighty sigh and brings himself in close. You can still smell the scent of mouthwash on his breath.

"You know, I have to agree. I've been nothing but nice to you, Katsuji, but you won't even do me a simple favor? I'm starting to think that you might just be taking advantage of me."

That's what does it. No more of this. No more manipulation, no more gaslighting.

"H-How dare you. You're the ones taking advantage of me! You think that just because everyone loves you that you can do whatever you want! I wonder how many people would've voted for you if you treated them the same way you've been treating me?"

A tired-looking girl in thick glasses stops to stare at the commotion, and a few other onlookers follow suit. Their attention emboldens you to keep going and expose this bastard for who he really is.

"You're nowhere near as special as you think you are. If you were, you'd buy your own damn food for once!"

You roll up close to Souichiro and press a finger into his chest.

"I want you to leave me alone. Never talk to me again."

You glance back at the crowd to gage their reaction. To your horror, instead of reflecting your indignation, most of them seem to be waiting for Souichiro to say something, wearing expressions of ridicule and confusion.

They don't believe you.

Souichiro, sickeningly clever as he is, catches on instantly. He flashes you the barest hint of a smirk.

"I'm not sure what you mean, Katsuji-kun. I'm sorry if you felt like you were obligated to do anything, but that was never my intent. Seems to me like you might be blowing things out of proportion here."

Your throat suddenly grows dry. Everyone's hanging onto every word he says, and you feel like you're going to be sick.

"Maybe you just ought to go home for the day and settle down. I know exams were tough – all that stress must be affecting your mood."

That explanation seems to satisfy the crowd, and one by one, they disperse. Soon, the four of you are on your own again.

Souichiro scans the yard to make sure that everyone's truly left before he grabs you by the collar and hoists you out of your seat.

"You've got some nerve trying to make a fool out of me like that, Katsuji. Did you forget that you still owe me?"

"F-For what? You helped carry my books once!"

The older boy pulls your collar tighter.

"Yeah, and as far as I'm concerned, you haven't even come close to paying me back for my time. And now that you've pulled this little stunt, I'd say your debt just got a lot deeper."

He lets go, and you fall back, sputtering and coughing.

"If you don't want to be 'friends' anymore, then that's fine by me. But you fucked up, Katsuji, and I'm not going to forget it."

He gestures for Taishi and Chikara to follow him, and the three of them push past you towards the gates. You remain there on the walkway for a while longer, rooted to the spot by humiliation and fear.

You shut your eyes to blink back a wave of hot tears, and when you open them, you're back in the Cloud. Koharu is there in the center of the platform, studying you with sad, pitying eyes.

"I always thought we were awfully similar, you know? We just kept to ourselves, and tried not to bother anyone. But that kind of peace of mind comes at a price – it makes you a coward, blind to the suffering of others. When no one else did, I believed you, Tetsuo. But when it came down to it, I couldn't sacrifice my own comfort to stand with you. For this sin, I must atone. Will you forgive me?"

The breach widens. Cognizance expands, illuminating the jailed core.

"Where does one draw the line between being reserved and being isolated? Should being quiet mean that you don't need or want friends? You're right – I did like to keep to myself, but I still needed someone on my side. Please, don't turn away from me this time. Be my counselor, and help me face what's ahead."

Koharu bends the knee and bows.

"I will. I'll be your arcane might, and support you from the shadows."

You lay a hand on her shoulder.

"Then all is forgiven."

Another corridor of light reveals itself, a lone synapse firing deeper into the dream's core. The aching in your head pulses in time with it, kindling a dim fury in your breast. The nature of these memories no longer seems important – all that matters is reclaiming what's missing, regardless of the pain.

Your dogged pursuit resumes.

• • • • •

When you pass through the next portal at the end of the path, something immediately shoves you from behind once you reach the other side. Your legs suddenly unable to support your weight, you collapse forward onto hard porcelain. The scents of mildew, sweat, and stale urine fill your nose as you scramble to flip yourself over on the toilet.

You catch a fleeting glimpse of Taishi and Chikara's sneering faces outside the stall before the door slams shut and Chikara throws her weight against it with a dull thud.

"P-Please, just give them back!" you sputter. Your gaze falls into your lap, and you realize that you're wearing your gym clothes. "L-Lunch is almost over, and s-someone's going to wonder where we are."

"Really?" scoffs Chikara. "Oh, damn! I guess you'd better hurry up and make a decision, then!"

Panic overwhelms your senses, and you can't tell how much of it is coming from the memory and how much belongs to you. Did…something like this happen before? Flashes of a moment much like this one blink before your eyes like damaged film reel, but your brain has become far too addled to recall anything clearly, save for a throbbing, white-hot anger that remains your only through line. Your soul trembles with it. Anger at yourself, for your helplessness, and your captors, for their cruelty.

"Wh-Why…?" Try as you might, you can't keep the trembling from your voice, and hearing it echo from the locker room walls makes your anger swell all the more. "J-Just let me out and give me my clothes back!"

"I don't think so, Katsuji," sneers Taishi. "You still have a debt to pay."

Your teeth pierce your bottom lip, and you taste iron.

"What else do you want from me? Weren't the rumors enough?"

Those you remember plenty. Stories about your violent tendencies, disgusting habits, and deviant fetishes cropping up out of nowhere like weeds, and spreading just as fast. Naturally, no one would say where they originated, but it couldn't have been a coincidence that they started soon after your outburst against the Student Council President.

"Huh? Sorry, but I have no idea what you mean," he lies.

Even though there's a thin slab of metal separating the two of you, you can practically see the smug grin on his face, clear as day.

"But what I can tell you is that if you do what we say today, then you can consider everything settled. If you can do this one last thing, we'll forget you ever existed."

Such an awful thing, to disguise a threat with hope, but in your state, you'd even cling to a life preserver wrapped in thorns. And they know it.

"Wh-What is it?"

"All you have to do is enter the girls' locker room while they're changing after gym tomorrow. Give us your word that you'll do that, and we'll let you have your uniform back now. Actually do it, and we'll keep up the rest of the bargain. Easy enough, right? Should be right up the alley of a nasty little pervert like yourself."

You hadn't expected anything less, but your heart plummets all the same. Just another in a long series of indignities, with no real point other than cruelty for cruelty's sake.

"I-I'm not – I-I can't-"

Pointless as it is, you can't stop yourself from pleading, an act so meek and pitiful that it fills you with revulsion. They won't listen. They won't stop. Your head is pounding from the inside out.

"Sorry, what was that? It didn't sound like an answer." Taishi taps his foot impatiently for effect. "Hurry it up, Katsuji. We don't have all day."

"I won't do it."

Your response is barely audible, as if that would relieve you of the need to commit. A useless effort.

"What was that? Speak up."

At the very least, you won't give them the pleasure of watching you debase yourself.

"I won't do it!"

A pause. Then, Taishi sniffs.

"Tch. Fine then. Your choice. Dump 'em, Chikara."

From the stall next to you, there comes a splash, followed by the sound of a toilet flushing.

"There. You can have them back now if you want. We'll see you some other time, Katsuji."

As the sound of their footsteps fades into the distance, the thought of having to ask Mom to buy you a new uniform finally cracks your spirit. Frozen to the spot in the cramped little stall and wracked by waves of resentment, you remain there for some time until a booming voice interrupts.

"Hello? Is someone still in here?"

You blink to clear the tears from your eyes, and the memory is gone. Instead, there's only Shibutani, more defeated and smaller than you've ever seen.

"As the newly elected chair of the Disciplinary Committee, it was my responsibility to protect the wellbeing of each and every student, yet I failed my very first test. You came to me broken and defeated, seeking protection, and I denied you. After all, I knew Saito-san. He was my superior, a man of unimpeachable character – how could he be capable of the things you were describing? If I'd only known what would happen next, I would have never…"

He trails off and stares blankly into space.

"…No. Doing the right thing should require no knowledge of the future. I am responsible for what became of you, and that is where the truth begins and ends. For this, I must atone - even though I am unworthy. Will you forgive me?"

At last, the noise clears, revealing something hazy and formless, too bright and painful to perceive directly.

"I laid myself bare to you in a way that I'd never done for anyone else. After all, I couldn't trust the adults at school to believe me, and I could never burden Mom with more than she already had to shoulder. You were my last resort, senpai. For you to dismiss me like that – it felt like drowning. Still, the blame for this was never entirely yours. There's still an opportunity for justice to be served, as long as you're willing. Be my spear and shield, and help me face what's ahead."

Shibutani lowers himself to you.

"Without fail. I shall serve you as your weapon."

Your hand looks tiny as it rests on his massive shoulder.

"Then all is forgiven."

A new passage cuts through the sea of stars as straight as an arrow, pulsing like an artery of light as it points to the heart of the Cloud. He's close now, you can feel it.

Just a little further.

The pain is starting to spread to the rest of your body, but you have to keep going. You've come too far to stop now.

• • • • •

By the time you reach the next spire, you can barely stand due to the agony clouding your thoughts. Desperately stumbling towards the portal ahead, the nerves in your legs fail you at last, and you collapse a few meters away.

"Gggaaaaaaaahhhhh!"

Your defiant, maddened screams rend the stillness and die a fruitless death among the cosmos. Wordlessly, Hayate, Koharu, and Shibutani rush towards you, offering you their hands, but you wave them away. You'll reach Souichiro under your own power. You'll prove that you're not powerless. You'll never be that powerless again.

Thrusting one hand in front of the other, you begin the arduous process of dragging your debilitated body towards the portal. The closer you get, the harder it becomes to pull yourself along, almost as though there's an invisible force hellbent on denying your progress.

It doesn't matter. I just need to make it through. I need to know.

At last, you draw near enough to make one last push and heave yourself through.

When you open your eyes, you're in one of the disused classrooms in the old school building with your guitar in your lap. Your fingers, stained with red paint and wrinkled from spending too long in a bucket of soapy water, dance across the strings, lifting the airy melody of one of Dad's favorite songs into the dusty air. The sound caresses you in its familiar embrace, plucking the aches and pains off your heart like cobwebs and casting them aside. Tomblike in its serenity, it's become the perfect place to go whenever you feel like you want to curl up and die.

You make the mistake of glancing down at your shoes, scarlet and ruined, and the song falls apart, spiraling off into a slew of half-hearted twangs. The ache begins to creep back behind your eyes again.

Just as a rattling, defeated sigh passes your lips, the door behind you slides open. Your blood runs cold. You know who it is without even turning around.

How? How did he find me here?!

"What's the matter? Why'd you stop?"

Before, the mere sound of him would set your blood frothing. But the past few months have…changed you. Now, all you can do is sit there, mute and petrified, and wait for it to be over.

Souichiro struts around in front of you with a scowl on his face, and does the unthinkable - he takes your guitar from your hands.

Mortified, you gasp and reach up to take it back, but he deftly raises it out of your reach.

"You know, if you didn't want to be found, maybe you shouldn't have been making such an awful racket."

"G-Give it back, you p-piece of shit," you spit. How dare he. Just seeing him clutch the fretboard so carelessly in his greasy mitts makes you want to retch.

A smile creases Souichiro's face.

"Oh. Got your attention now, huh?"

He leans in, just close enough for you to bury your fist in his jaw. The older boy reels back, pressing a palm to his chin, eyes wide with shock. The surprise doesn't last long. His expression twisted with sudden rage, Souichiro darts up close and lifts you out of your chair with his free hand.

"Don't you fucking touch me, you disgusting little freak!" he shrieks, and tosses you against the wall. Your head hits the hard plaster, blurring your vision.

"Did you think you were being clever, going to Shibutani?"

Souichiro strides up to you and hoists you up against the wall at eye level.

"Did you think I wouldn't find out? That he wouldn't tell me?"

He loosens his grip, allowing you to collapse back down to the floor in a heap. He's not particularly strong, but in your state, even someone like him is capable of tossing you around like a sack of flour. That realization drains your brief surge of bravado like a vampire's fangs.

"Of course, Shibutani's a good dog. He gave me the benefit of the doubt right away. Still, the fact of the matter is that you don't seem to understand your place."

"Wh-What are you talking about? I still don't even know what you want from me anymore. I j-just want this to stop."

Souichiro kneels down to lock eyes with you, scraping your guitar against the wooden floor as he does. Seeing him handle it so carelessly makes you flinch, and the second-year grins, interpreting it as fear.

"Stop? I've already given you so many chances, but you never choose to do as you're told. In fact, you seem to be dead-set on spreading all sorts of filthy, filthy lies. How am I supposed to react when all you do is antagonize me?"

There was a time when a deranged claim like that would have driven you crazy, made you push back, or say anything at all in response. Now, the only thing you feel is numb, mutely riveted to the sight of your guitar flailing about in Souichiro's wildly gesticulating hands.

Unfortunately, he notices. A small sound of recognition escapes his lips as he traces your line of sight to the instrument in his left hand.

"Oh. I almost forgot that I was still hanging onto this," he says, his voice taking on a tone that sets your pulse racing.

"G-Give it back."

A whisper, almost a prayer.

Souichiro rises to his feet, holding the guitar almost lovingly.

"I guess when you get to the heart of the problem, I just can't have someone like you running around trying to smear my good name. Maybe you can't understand this, but I've got a bright future ahead of me, Tetsuo. If you're not going to play along, then I guess you need to be taught a lesson in respect."

It's over before you can even think about trying to stop him. With one swift motion, he slams your guitar down over his knee, snapping it in two. The sound of cracking lacquer splits the air like a gunshot aimed directly at your chest.

All at once, the air in your lungs vanishes. You keel over, gasping for breath and scrabbling wildly about to scoop the pieces into your trembling fingers, its halves held together only by a few remaining strings. Cradling its mangled fragments in your arms as you would the body of an injured loved one, you remember Dad's beaming face on the day you unwrapped it and lose your mind.

A howl, ugly and grief-ridden, rips its way out of your throat, the dying gasp of a heart that can no longer support the weight of its own life. Souichiro's torment, Mom's barely contained misery, and now, your memories of Dad, shattered and defiled – it's all become too much to bear, and something deep within your soul snaps, distorting it beyond recognition.

Watching you weep, Souichiro sniffs and turns his back to you with his hand on the door.

"Hopefully that gets the message across. Cross me again, and I'll make you wish you were dead. Although frankly…you'd be doing everyone a favor if you took care of that yourself."

With that, the door slides shut, and he's gone.

You remain huddled up on the floor for the longest time, but even after the shadows have traced their paths across the floor and the orange glow of sunset has given way to the deep blues of dusk, you're still unable to muster the strength to do more than trace the broken edges of your greatest treasure.

Idly, your hand drops to your side. It brushes up against your bag, and you hear the muffled sound of several small objects rattling around inside a plastic bottle. All at once, they become seeds – seeds of a terrible, intoxicating idea that carries with it sweet promise of escape. All you need to do is plant them, plant them deep inside where they can take root and free you from the inside out.

You feel yourself unzip the bag and dimly cast around inside until you find what you're looking for. You close your hand around it, and everything goes dark.

• • • • •

When you come to, you're lying facedown at the edge of another floating island with your friends surrounding you. As you pull yourself upright, you're startled to discover that the excruciating pain in your head has vanished. But in its place, there's a wound – not something physically felt, but a dark stain upon your heart that has you shaken to your core.

Koharu steps forward and speaks in a voice identical to your own.

"I'm sorry. That must have been quite difficult for you."

Hayate follows suit.

"However, it was a necessary measure to ensure that you could truly appreciate this moment."

Now Shibutani.

"The time has come to exercise the power you've been granted."

Then in unison:

"Will you put the wrongs you've witnessed to right?"

You stare across the expanse of glassy stone ahead of you, far into the distance where you can sense the presence of a powerful foe. However, when you think of him, what you feel isn't apprehension – it's elation.

Things are different now, after all. You're no longer that same weak, pitiful creature. With the power of Persona, you've overcome every other obstacle in your path and ground them into the dust.

What's one more?

Soon, your heart and mind are ablaze with searing obsession, consumed by one singular desire that burns away all other thought.

"I'll destroy him."