...04/10/2009 Sunday; Dark Hour...
...FULL MOON OPERATION...
The air twisted the moment the Shadows charged.
The Strength Arcana lifted her arm in an almost elegant motion. The red rose pointed at the group like a silent judgment.
Around her, the void tore open.
Silhouettes appeared — enormous, twisted fists made of condensed shadow. There was no warning. They shot forward in rapid succession, ripping through the air with a violent howl.
"Dodge!" Mitsuru's voice cut through the chaos.
The ground exploded where the fists hit. The asphalt split open, forming jagged craters. Debris flew everywhere.
Bodies threw themselves aside as the fists punched through the space where they'd been just seconds before. The impact was brutal. The pavement cracked, collapsing into small, smoking holes.
Junpei didn't waste a second.
With a raw shout, he raised his greatsword over his head and charged straight at the Strength Arcana. His heels twisted against the ground as he spun his body, putting all his weight behind the upward strike.
But the metal bars around the flowers moved.
The collision rang out loudly as Junpei's sword slammed into the metal, sparks bursting from the impact.
The strike was completely blocked.
The recoil force shoved Junpei back. He stumbled, eyes wide.
"Dude… that thing moves?!"
Meanwhile, a shiver ran up Fuuka's spine.
She looked around the station.
Something was wrong.
The Fortune Arcana… wasn't there anymore.
The space where it had been was now too empty.
Her heart lurched.
"Guys…" she grabbed Hiro's shoulder, fingers trembling. "Do you see the Fortune Arcana anywhere?"
Confusion spread. Eyes scanned the alleys, the cracked ground, the shadows cast by the buildings.
Nothing.
Aigis stepped forward. Her eyes glowed as her scanner activated. Data streamed too fast to be read.
Suddenly, she snapped her head sharply to the side.
The silhouette.
Above.
"Sanada-senpai! Behind you!"
Akihiko turned instantly.
No time.
The Fortune Arcana appeared out of nowhere, materializing in the air right in front of him. Its metal body spun with perfect precision, the golden hind legs slicing through the space—
The kick hit dead on.
The impact twisted Akihiko's face, pain exploding like an electric shock through his skull. The world spun as his body was hurled backward, far too light against the strength of the blow.
He was airborne.
He crashed onto his back hard, air blasting from his lungs. His face throbbed, hot, pulsing with pain.
Minato saw Akihiko hit the ground and his heart stopped for a beat.
"Akihiko!"
He sprinted, sliding across the cracked asphalt, dropping to his knees beside him and reaching out.
"You okay?!"
Akihiko braced both hands against the ground. A low groan escaped between clenched teeth. He turned his head and spat blood onto the asphalt, the dark smear spreading slowly.
He wiped his mouth with the back of his hand.
"It's nothing."
Even with pain pulsing in his face, he took Minato's hand. The firm pull brought him back to his feet.
Akihiko touched the spot where the kick landed, massaging the side of his face, jaw tense with frustration.
"Thanks…" He breathed out. His eyes scanned the empty space. "But where the hell did that thing come from?"
Before anyone could answer—
"Guys!" Yukari's voice cut through the air. "They're doing something!"
Everyone turned at once.
The Strength Arcana floated a few meters ahead, her dress swaying despite the windless air. Slowly, she raised the hand holding the red rose.
The flower pointed to the sky.
Beneath the Fortune Arcana's feet, a circle formed on the ground — golden lines etching themselves into the asphalt like marks burning the surface.
A yellow glow began to rise.
The metallic body of Fortune vibrated.
Gears trembled.
The golden structure began to come apart — not in pieces, but like smoke dissolving into the air. The edges blurred. The bluish mask turned translucent.
Within seconds, the entire body became a faint outline.
And then— vanished.
The space in front of them was empty again.
Hiro stared at the nothingness, eyes wide in disbelief. His grip tightened around the kukri.
"You've gotta be kidding me…" His voice came out loaded with irritation. "That shit turns invisible?!"
Fuuka closes her eyes. And behind her, Lucia's form manifests — arms open, almost angelic.
The Persona's presence illuminates the space with a soft glow.
A green pulse bursts outward from Fuuka's body, like a sonar wave.
The ripple crosses the street, the buildings, the warped air of the Dark Hour.
In her mind, the scenery shifts.
The Arcana of Strength is a fixed, bright core. But the Arcana of Fortune… is a blur in motion.
It circles around the group, moving like a patient predator.
Fuuka frowns.
She can't lock onto an exact point.
But there's something else.
The energy surrounding Fortune doesn't come from itself.
It comes from Strength.
Fuuka snaps her eyes open.
"Kirijo-senpai!" Her voice comes out firm despite the tension. "I can't pinpoint the Arcana of Fortune! But it looks like, to hit it… we need to kill or stun the Arcana of Strength!"
Mitsuru stares at her for a second, absorbing the information.
"I understand."
Before hesitation can form, Akihiko and Minato rush forward together.
Akihiko accelerates, fists clenched. He lets out a strained shout and throws a punch straight at the bars encasing the Arcana of Strength.
At the last moment, as if alive, the bars shift again, sliding to intercept the blow.
The impact echoes.
But Akihiko doesn't retreat.
Instead of finishing the punch, he slams into the bars and wraps both arms around the spiked metal.
His feet drag across the ground as the Shadow tries to move.
"ATTACK HER!"
Minato is already in position.
Without hesitation, he pulls out the Evoker. The object spins briefly around his finger before he points it at his own head.
His eyes lock onto Strength's back.
"Orpheus."
The trigger is pulled.
A sharp crack splits the air, followed by a flash of light bursting from the opposite side of his head.
Above him, Orpheus manifests — elegant, ethereal, his harp resting against his body.
With a fluid motion, his fingers glide across the strings.
And he casts Agilao.
Flames form in the air, twisting like incandescent serpents before shooting forward.
They strike the Arcana of Strength's back.
Fire spreads across the flowers compressed within the bars, petals burning and turning to black ash.
The Shadow lets out a shrill cry — pain and irritation mixed together.
Her body contorts, the red rose trembling in her hand.
The blue mask slowly turns.
Eyes hidden behind it now fixed on Minato.
The Arcana of Strength slowly raises the red rose.
The tip of the flower points toward her own bars.
The metal begins to tremble.
Akihiko furrows his brow, still gripping the spiked cage.
"What…?"
The shaking intensifies.
Suddenly, the force doubles.
The bars contract and hoist him off the ground as if he weighed nothing. Before he can react, his body is slammed downward.
The impact against the asphalt explodes into a crater.
He barely manages to suck in air before he's lifted again — and slammed again.
And again.
And again.
Each strike opens new cracks in the ground. Dust bursts into heavy clouds. Pain spreads through his entire body, crushing bone, stealing the air from his lungs.
The world becomes a green and gray blur.
The bars begin to spin him in the air, faster and faster. Akihiko's arms tremble — muscles giving out.
His fingers slip.
He's thrown.
His body shoots through the air like a wild projectile.
Yukari barely has time to turn her head.
The collision is brutal.
The two are hurled together against a building's wall. The impact echoes through the street as a thick cloud of dust rises, covering everything.
"YUKARI!"
Minato takes a step forward, eyes wide, locked on the curtain of dust where they vanished.
The Arcana of Strength slowly turns her body toward him.
The red rose rises again.
Metal tears free from the bars like a colossal spear, fired straight at Minato.
The air splits.
But a silhouette steps into the path.
"NO CHANCE!"
Hiro appears in front of him.
The kukri spins in his hand like an extension of his arm. For a moment, everything seems to slow — the green glow of the Dark Hour, the metallic reflection, the spear's trajectory.
The blade meets the metal in a perfect diagonal slash.
The impact erupts into sparks.
The shock vibrates through Hiro's arms, but he forces the motion, diverting the strike to the side.
The bars ricochet.
Without losing momentum, Hiro is already moving.
He spins the kukri in his hand once and steps onto one of the bars still suspended in the air. His body propels upward with calculated precision.
The Arcana of Strength barely finishes shifting posture when Hiro comes down on her.
The kukri buries deep into the Shadow's shoulder.
A black liquid oozes from the wound, sliding down the white dress, staining the flowers below.
The Arcana lets out a shrill scream — distorted, filled with pain and fury.
Hiro doesn't let go.
The moment the blade sinks into Strength's shoulder, he uses the momentum to launch himself higher and hooks his free arm around the Shadow's neck.
His body swings around her, using the force of his jump to position himself on the Shadow's back.
Hiro locks his legs around her torso, tightening his grip so he won't slip. The Arcana's shoulder still pours out the black liquid where the kukri is embedded.
He reaches out.
His fingers find the handle.
The grip is slick.
He clenches his teeth.
With a shout that echoes through the station street, he yanks the kukri with force.
The blade tears through the Shadow's shoulder in a deep, widening cut. Black liquid splashes, scattering through the air like flung ink.
The Arcana lets out a shrill scream, warped with fury.
Hiro releases the Arcana's neck and begins to fall, but keeps the kukri buried in her.
The blade drags downward, slicing through the Arcana of Strength's back in a violent arc. The black liquid gushes even stronger, spreading across the flowers compressed within the bars.
The Shadow screams again — distorted, vibrating like metal scraped raw.
The bars thrash wildly.
Hiro rolls across the asphalt, feeling the impact scrape his shoulder and back until he finally stops on his side. The kukri is still firm in his hand.
For a second, he just breathes.
His chest rises and falls with difficulty. The air burns as it enters.
He lifts his gaze.
Ahead, the Arcana of Strength floats unsteadily, her torn shoulder spilling darkness as the white dress becomes more and more stained.
TO BE CONTINUED...