Velvet Heart Project: A Persona Academy Short

This is a story tied to Ld produce. Of course, this is innately different from their posts and not necessarily following the current plot line. But I digress.

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Fragments of data filtered ively through the complex series of devices that allowed for Tenebris' existence. Small blips and strange blackouts of data that had all but been associated with stronger shadows, ones capable of distorting the information around them and changing it. It was part of what made the lower levels so dangerous, not that they were unexplored, but rather that they were nearly entirely undocumented. Reapers rarely roamed in packs, but who's to say a Shadow Eater or some other capable figment of imagination couldn't distort that reality? Each floor was a gamble, each more likely more dangerous than the last. Of course, distortions outside of the control of any greater will remain present. Shadow labs, and safe havens that made for good rest spots. Tunnels that punched through floors upon floors and caves that outright escaped it. Tenebris was a fickle master indeed. But of course, who controlled it? There is no such thing as the lowest point on the pecking order. After all, everything responds to something. If we can not perceive them, then they are either so unimaginably beyond us that we'd be better off not looking or that they are so beneath us their existence was never relevant.

That is how it has always been. Those with stronger wills lead the weak, and those with weaker wills lead the weakest to whatever ends they may have in store, that we can not know. Only time can tell, but in a place strictly of the mind, time can not tell or be told. Instead, the constant presence of actions shapes the day. Molding each level, shifting each floor to its needs. If the strong desire something, they will have it. If the weak desire something, they must fight for it. Matter decides all, mind can not triumph over it. It never once has, for if you only wish for something to come true, it will never see the light of day. An unreachable ideal, stripped of all light and hope.

Pushed down further and further. Until the horizon can no longer be seen until the only thing that awaits is true uncertainty.

But what of the place between mind and matter? Where dream and reality collide?

A place for realizing one's ideals. For finding the power to reach them. Only those truest to their ideals can ever hope to reach such a place. Those who truly desire and have the power to change not only themselves but those around them. A coveted power, all who know of it seek it or already possess it. The power to stay true to one's heart, regardless of hardship, is one most immense indeed. Of course, this is the power of a Persona. The manifestation of the ideal self brought forth, for some a grand ruler, for others a lowly peasant. Its abilities are endless, yet so structurally limited.

But of course... there is more than one way to reach such a world. Not through forced entry or traumatic death. But to be chosen, amongst a sea of souls, one must find themselves whole. They must find themselves empty. An impossible status. Yet achieved by few. To attend to this room, this place between mind and matter. Is a great deal indeed, an honor among honors. It's impossible to reach for all. Except, of course, those clad in velvet blue. An elite group of chosen individuals, all subservient to the same game, the shadows practice. A pecking order of status, except theirs, has clearly defined peaks and lows.

Yet these heights escape even the strongest among them when subjected to the brutal depths down below. Those unexplored zones where mind and reality no longer matter. Where concepts become inescapable and irrelevant. Where no order exists, and only the truth of entropy can remain.

There was an uncomfortable quiet. Shadows weren't clashing with each other. The sound of footsteps hadn't yet begun. It was as if everything was dead. Yet simultaneously too alive. Like every inch of ground was aware of its existence. Every blade of grass could scream out in agony if it was crushed or cut. This held true, as all around, a large grove of shadows stalked. Hungry eyes, watching carefully, wondering if it would be just to pounce. Yet, not even one with chains moved. Seemingly petrified in place by an unseen force, keeping all things at bay. An unconscious effort of one grand strength.

Directly in the center of this Grove, there was a creature. Humanoid in stature. Platinum hair splayed out across the grass, hands crossed over top one another. Draped in a mixture of velvet blue and white, her outfit, a mixture between servant and master. Slowly, she stood up, bracing against the center most tree, she scanned the area. The prying eyes from before had long since left. Leaving her alone with her thoughts. Against her brace, a hollowed out section of the tree became clear. Wrought with curiosity, she reached in, a smooth glove gliding across smoother wood, grasping onto the edges of an almost pristine book.

This book was... familiar to her. It read, Le Grimoire, across the top. It housed a collection of monsters she was somehow, all too familiar with. She flipped through it, wondering if answers would reveal themselves to her, and out from within answers did. A singular note fell out from the center most point, folded an impossible number of times, it bounced off her arm, and onto the grass below. Slowly, she crouched down, grasping at the paper she began to unfold it, she reached to adjust glasses she did not have before reading it to herself.

"Don't forget Saville."

The note read, in a handwriting she swore was familiar, familial almost. No, she was certain it was. This note contained what must have been her name.

Her walk seemed endless, the floor unremarkable in every way. A vapid plain of unending darkness in every direction except directly behind her. Bits of grass sprouted from a wasteland of nothingness. True and utter darkness clouded each step, more unsure than the last with each footfall.

But far off in the distance, there was a light. A door of sorts. Hope embodied in form. She nearly threw off her book and broke out into a sprint, but that message echoed in her head once more. "Don't forget." She said it aloud to herself, advancing forward with a steady pace. The door was drawing closer and closer until her hand twisted it open and rapidly slammed it shut behind her. The violent noise made the very room itself shudder, glass rumbling as still water splashed against itself, her eyes finally coming upon the room she had stumbled into. It was a laboratory. But one long since abandoned. Bloodied chains occupied a test tube, and the water turned a meek maroon color, resembling rust more closely than blood. The air was stagnant but not entirely silent. The faint hum of old machines brought a fulfilling sound to her ears. As she explored the room, gloved hands gently grazing across stainless steel, she brushed against a board like surface. Keys pushed under the weight of her fingers, spelling out an unintelligible message into a long stream of old unintelligible data. She turned her head, meeting the clicking of keys her hand had just made, and she stared at the screen flushed with life.

She outstretched her hand once again, setting her book down beside the terminal, and she typed one message out.

"I will not forget.”

Credits

Artwork

Jonas Uosis

Matthew Butler

Persona 4 The Animation