Masquerade Ball [Cadet Dungeon/A Team]

T's confidence wasn't entirely misplaced. Had this been an ordinary combatant he would've easily shattered them with his relentless bombardment, but the blasts and bullets weren't enough to deal with this beast, driving it back with force and even severing a few tendrils yet ultimately failing to put a dent in it or its resolve. With an earthshattering roar it dove forward and opened its gaping maw with the intent of snapping it around T's entire body while Maria flanked him to the side planning to drive her Demon Weapon into his back. Even if she succeeded, however, the monster would swiftly shake her and Andraste off as it hoisted him into the air between its piercing fangs and wildly thrashed his body around until it went limp.

Bakasura:

Action:

Passives:

Maria/Lisa:

VC Gained:

Exp Gained:

Item Gained:

Shuffle Time!:

The twisted Persona T summoned began to fizzle and crackle. Eventually, it dissipated in a smog of green. The green miasma that was present in the room began to dissipate. Soon every infected staff of the studio began to collapse to the floor one by one. Eventually they would find themselves to be in some kind of studio stage, just to be expected of its original purpose. As the room was littered with still breathing bodies, there was still the ringleader who fell face first to the ground. Through the open entrance of the room, the teams can hear footsteps beginning to resound closer and closer to them. Now all there was left...

The knight clutched his chest while using the Holy relic to help himself up. He had been knocked unconscious by T, he wondered what would have been of him were not for Azami jumping in to secure the victory. He looked at the she-dog, giving it an acknowledging nod in respect. Such powerful beast of war... But everyone present fought with the utmost ferocity in this fight. Though Albrecht was not satisfied, it was a win but he could do much better.

"Good job, cadets." He congratulated everyone present, now standing on his two feet. The Wild Card seemed to take the lead for now, knowing his part was done the Knight felt silent and simply watched from the back. His job was to slaughter the enemies of Order, nothing more, nothing less.

"Lion, your sanity slipped away for a moment today. Are you sure you don't need to relax?" The holy relic finally spoke for once.

"I saw a crimson angel.. it demanded for blood, and so i felt a desire, a thirst for blood."

"...Crimson angel... That seems familiar."

The abomination held T tightly within its grasp, fangs covering half of his body completely and holding him in place with odd precision, his final ramblings falling on deaf ears and instead prompting her to bite down onto his mask midway into his speech with as much force as she could muster. Still, it wouldn't shatter just yet, continuing to persist against the unrelenting force until finally the twisted entity faded away and she crushed the now hollow facade with one final clench. Jerking her head back and grasping the defeated terrorist's leg with one of her inner tendrils, she'd hurl him down onto the floor uncaringly and send the shards of the now broken mask crashing down with him, feeling her master's hand move down her back and releasing a cacophonic howl to the skies above. She howled fiercely with laughter, a horrific cry which would almost seem to shake the walls of the Domain thanks to its gradual disappearance, her screeches eerily similar to those of the Demons who had devastated the city during the Eternal Divide... or, rather, those of the humans if the Psyche Terrorist's revelations were to be believed.

Yet none of it mattered to her as usual. She had gotten what she desired and cared not what memories her mangled appearance and distorted guffaw would conjure up. Slowly the beast would shrink down to its previous size and in time the terrifying force would transform back into the tiny shiba that her comrades were all too familiar with. She continued to laugh and howl still though, not caring for T's identity or for whoever else was approaching them, madly ensnared in her own pride even as her terrible shrieks and cackles died down into pathetic mewling. Her body could no longer move by the time the transformation was fully complete; it was entirely numb save for an all-consuming aching in her bones, her mind barely left on the brink of consciousness, but the dog still continued to smile and weakly wag her tail with little care for the proceedings to follow or her own well-being.

Azami:

Action:

As the mask was wrenched off from his face, the prim and proper attire on his body began to dissipate. Eventually every inch would sear off of his person as if it were like a mist wafting higher into the air to vanish from the naked eye. What laid in front of the Cadets was an idol. If there were anyone who were versed in some level of it, they would be able to tell he was Cela. The famous pop idol who once performed for the City several nights ago. But now, he laid there comatose and unresponsive. It was easy to tell he was alive, but he was not waking up any time soon.

Finally, the footsteps reached their destination with a multitude of service members arriving on the scene. Orders were barked out and followed to the T. Soon, the mass of unconscious bodies were beginning to be filed out of the room on stretchers. At least after Azami's laughter subsided, it was clear they hesitated for a moment. With the number of people here and outside, the nearby hospitals were going to be put on double duty at this rate. Eventually, two notable people at last made their entry into the room. Out of the two, the shorter one seemed disgruntled, but satisfied with the result. Though he really wanted to have a go with the boss.


"He is... your Majesty," Maria answered him while heaving an exhausted sigh. She wiped the cold sweat from the back of her neck. Out of any enemy she faced, T was by far one of the most dangerous Psyche-Terrorist in her career, if not the most terrifying. She was sure many within the Cadets would tacitly agree. Julius walked towards Cela. There was a severe, yet calm expression. He knelt to examine his face, as if trying to sear the Jest's facial features into his memories. He finally relented and grabbed him, more or less accept the task to deal with him.

It would seem there would be an end to that. At least until Lisa piped up,"Brother, I--"

"I'll have a word with you about your reckless choices at another time. Privately." The light on his glasses flashed to hide his eyes. While he seemed remarkably aloof, there was a tight tension surrounding him and it focused towards the Princess' direction. It silenced her smoothly like a knife through butter. For the first time, she seemed squeamish and quietly uncomfortable. But her esteemed sibling didn't seem to notice it...

The battle was over as soon as the panicked woman stepped away. They had won. "T" had been struck down. Though, the battle was not over for nearly everyone. Susan stood with her weapon trained on the collapsing bodies as they fell and continued to do so until the world around her was stripped away. The mirrors fell to walls, and the area became... normalized. The gas had ceased. But the battle was not over, she could not believe it was over. Susan stood with a shuddering chest, struggling to control her breathing as her hands shakily clutched her weapon, still pointed forward. Her face was flushed and wet. She had never stopped sobbing since she started, although the muffled cries did give way to heaving gasps of air and hiccups. The businesswoman went to touch her face to ensure that these tears were actually hers. Of course they were. But the battle was not over. She could hear them. She heard the cackling, maddening laughter that bounced across the walls and turned swiftly to face it.

It was a demon. It was a monster. She had run from it, it had chased her. It killed everyone behind her, it was her fault for leaving them. She killed them herself, she left them to die. And it had come for her at last to fini-
N-no... n-no this was an ally. Her finger gently squeezed on the trigger of her P90 in anticipation of one last surprise, one more thing that would come to claim them as everything else had that night. He had been one step ahead from before the "game" started, he would have one last trick in store. She could not believe he did not, of course he did. Troubling thoughts crept into her mind slashing through the fog.

Susan knew what the trick was. It was the people, rather what they had done. The gas. Where they ever even threats? Was this whole endeavor an illusion itself? They had hurt people, they had injured them badly, some may even be dead and she did not know. All along this could have been a mirage. After the vision Susan could no longer tell the real from the unreal in her panicked state, everything came into question. She remembered terrible things, long ago and recently. Was this it? Did she use the superiority of maneuver to harm innocent people? Susan could no longer be certain. Everything fell to question. But the trauma outweighed her personal reservations. She had... sh-she had watched people burn to death, she was certain. She had witnessed defeat. She had been shot in the head, was she even still alive? After the gunshot she... n-no... b-before... w-was it before or was it just minutes a-ago...? Susan clutched her hand over her ear in a vain attempt to drown out the cackling that taunted her.

...but she had perked up at the sound of footsteps. The businesswoman quickly brought her hands to her P90, hugging the wall in an attempt at cover as the doors flew open.

Cli-click.

She had pulled the trigger. She had actually pulled the trigger. ...but her weapon was empty. Susan had never changed the magazine. She stood frozen in horror as she had realized what she had almost done. If she were in the right mind she would have killed innocent people. A look of horror overcame her face and she dropped her gun to dangle from her shoulders by its sling. She choked on the sounds that wanted to erupt from her throat, boring a hole into the ground with her gaze before eventually collapsing into sobs. With her head wound, obvious bruises around her wrists and neck, and erratic behavior she would be among first to receive attention from medical personnel.


With a short time of question Susan's sobs would cease and she would be taken by shellshock, carrying a vacant expression as she drifted toward Prince Julius as the obvious authority figure in the situation and one she considered a direct supervisor to herself.


Her voice was quiet and empty, this time she did not ask for dismissal before departing. Even with the current events Susan understood that something was wrong, that she needed help, and that medical professionals would be able to grant her this. However this type of damage could never be healed. It would fester on her soul like an infected sore, it would never go away. As she dreamily walked toward a group of people in white shirts and cross insignias on their arms as she basically recognized she would shed her equipment, pulling her sling over her head for her gun to clatter onto the ground, stripping herself of her tactical vest to fall, both of which would be recovered by the police immediately. Susan was met by local EMTs that would continue assessing her condition, though a vaguely humanoid shape would manifest behind her as she walked. Half a skeletal visage, half a ghost. And it would whisper her thoughts to those that carried the Potential to hear it.

There was no pride in this. Not for Cecilia. Normally victory on her missions brought some sense of relief, perhaps temporary, but still a wave of reassurance potent enough to keep her moving without issue until the doubts next started to set in. Tonight though? Cecilia didn't feel any relief or any joy, she just felt... empty. Hollow, used-up, weary. Unlike Albrecht she didn't stand up and regroup with her allies following the conclusion to the fight, instead stuck on the floor looking up at the proceedings in vague horror and sorrow, silent save for her exhausted panting as she watched T's unmasking. As a resident of Suzie Q she instantly recognized the face of Cela, yet there wasn't enough energy left in her to be shocked at the reveal, nor could she feel any shame for her district when her own personal indignation was so overbearing. Why? Why was she so weak? Why couldn't she've kept on fighting, why did her body have to give out after all that? The insecurities piled up one after another in her mind and spilled out in the form of tears, but the pink-haired girl refused to show any further signs of frailty, wiping the water from her eyes with her last scraps of stamina and keeping her face pointed downward at the ground to hide her expression.

It was only when Julius's voice called out to them that her gaze refocused on the group. She forced herself up with her hands, unable to fully push herself to her feet but still managing to prop her body up enough to get a better view, the girl choking out a raspy request for answers with desperation evident in her otherwise blank eyes. "T... or Cela, or... whatever. He made us... see things. Made us look into what he claimed was Endymion's past. People were -- he said they were the Demons, that they were the ones responsible for everything that happened. That was just a lie, wasn't it? Some sick illusion he conjured up to make us second-guess ourselves... I'm right, aren't I? It had to be another twisted joke!" The longer she drew out the query, the more it began to sound like pleading, not that she'd ever acknowledge it herself. She had faith in the queen; she had to have faith in the queen. And having faith meant trusting that the truth of Endymion was already within their grasp, no matter the ramblings of some mad jester.

Yet regardless of what Julius's response was, those concerns would soon become secondary. Her focus sluggishly drifted over to Shiina and after taking a second to process her words she realized what she was requesting. The previously dull eyes lit up for a brief moment with a golden glow and with a sudden rush of strength, Cecilia pushed herself to her feet, staring daggers at the Wild Card and sputtering out a spiteful shout.


She wasn't going to the hospital. There was no way in hell she'd let herself exit from this building a victim, not after everything she had endured. Her mind flashed through the worried faces of friends, of family, of relatives and comrades and she bit down tightly on her lip while forcing her body forward towards the exit. There wasn't a physical scratch anywhere on her, it was all just in the mind, scars on the soul that could easily be mended once she had recovered enough to summon Svalinn... None of that was enough to warrant a stretcher, not for her. She'd been through worse and she'd continue to be through worse -- it was a fact she had accepted when signing up for the cause and she wouldn't betray that resolve so easily. Walking past Shiina and heading onward to the doors, Cecilia would shake her head as she moved by her, uttering one final statement at a level only just barely above a whisper.


The praise was genuine but half-hearted. Scorn oozed from the tone of the otherwise innocuous words, partially aimed at Shiina, but in truth mostly fixaed inward. Unless stopped by orders or by physical intervention she'd proceed out of the building, stumbling her way through the doors and into the night without regard for whatever else happened from that point on, even losing interest in Julius's answer to her prior questions. It didn't matter anyway, did it? Their duties remained the same no matter what: Cecilia was just another tool, made to serve, not to speculate. And so as long as she drew breath, as long as she could still keep fulfilling that purpose...

"Naturally. It would take more than sheer numbers to overtake Alex and I. But it seemed a significant portion retreated back inside. I assume it was your handiwork. Excellent." Julius gave a small thin smile towards Shiina. He remained confident, even at the face of adversity like all Cadets should be. The Captain of the Cadets was a role that didn't just lead, but needed to serve as the bedrock for morale as well. He turned grave as it seemed his fellow co-workers had met the consequences of overcoming insurmountable odds. Susan, he understood that she was a mere shaky civilian who tried her best. It was to be expected that she would find the job taxing. But Cecilia? What happened here?

Maria looked on worryingly towards them, just as even she seemed apprehensive of what just transpired... An undeniable truth was presented in front of them, no matter whoever said otherwise. Even within their fragile minds, they knew it was true. While Susan moved on without even allowing him his input, he at least gestured a medic to tend to her. But he had enough of an opportunity to put a reassuring hand on Cecilia's shoulder.


"Calm yourself, Cadet. This is what the enemy wants. No matter what he claims, you can't allow him to gain any leverage over you. Head home, if you must. But don't let what occurred here hang over your head, understood?" He was sympathetic, but had to stand firm. Even after what Cecilia said, he didn't seem at all phased. Yet. As he watched even Cecilia filing out, he turned to speak to Maria. "The next morning we will have an examination. Please send this announcement to everyone. See to your comrades if you can. You're all dismissed."

She nodded stoically at him. Then gave him a small bow in farewell to his Majesty while also exiting as well before gesturing Albrecht to follow her. Julius sighed at the situation at hand and looked towards a cracked mirror on the wall. Little did he know, it was the original piece T used to enter the studio. As he continued to look towards the reflection, he was looking even deeper. But it made him wonder, what was exactly the purpose of this night? Was it to test the Cadets? Or did it have another goal...? Something never felt right at all.

SQ Gained:

Arcana Shard Gained:

Both Cecilia and Susan were broken. More than just their wounded bodies, but their spirits too. In different ways, but still shattered. The others seemed to stand their ground better. Though he didn't blame people to be shook after what had happened today, they were normal people taking upon the role of warriors, it is only natural they would have such reactions. Conversely, among the fellow cadets (Other than Lisa and Maria) Shiina picked his attention, she was unbroken much like him. She had proven to have the skills, but now she showed the spirit of a warrior. He wondered how far could she go. Quietly he listened to Julius words, they were about what he expected but he did not disagree with the Prince.

"Very well my liege." He spoke before turning to the other cadets, the ones who were still present. "Have a good night." He nodded at them before following the nun.

The battle was over physically. T went down and was unmasked. To the sight he saw, the idol’s eyes would narrow slightly. Being in the show business himself, he knew this face before him and had to wonder many things about the situation. Things he could not ask here, not when there were others to worry about. The unconscious ones were getting up, but it seemed that some were either getting wrapped up in their pride or the chaos of tonight and breaking. He saw it with the dog, Susan, and Ms. Hunt. Each break causing what occurred to hit harder and harder and yet the idol did not show just how much the matter weighed upon him. He remained calm as he listened to conversations pass by and people get carried out of the area.

While the Prince and some others remained strong in the situation, he wondered just how well this group would hold up in the end. Would they become a strong force to be reckoned with or would attacks like this drive them right over the edge? He had to wonder as his eyes drifted over to the broken mirror in the corner of the room. A strangely ironic depiction of the situation. He would stare at the mirror lost in thought only being brought back to reality when one of the medics on scene questioned if he needed help.

He’d give the woman a soft smile and shake his head no before shifting his weight and heading towards the exit giving Maria a light wave before bowing to the Prince and leaving quietly. He supposed he should rest up for the night.

Takeru watched as it all unfolded before him, having only recently managing to regain consciousness after the beating the horde dealt.
His ears were still ringing as well for quite a while.

By all rights, he should be freaked by what had transpired, except...
He didnt feel it at all.
No, that wasn't right.

It was more like the inputs of emotions were all screwed up in him.
The happiness, joy, fear, and immense emotions of the like were in him, hell, they were visible on the outside.

Except it all felt fake.
Like a mask.

Maybe it was just the adrenaline rush going through him, but beneath that mask was something else.

He couldn't figure out why this felt familiar... somehow.
Being attacked by a horde of people, faced by a enemy of power, a group of significant force...

Truth... yes truth.
Why did it seem... familiar somehow?

"Ahhh... what the hell? I... I dont know why I..." he began to mumble as he began to walk out.

As he did so, there was one word that lingered on the tip of his tongue for the rest of the night.

"Confess..." he muttered to himself.

It would take quite a bit of time for him to digest and fully react to all of what transpired.

T's words had left more of an effect on him than he would have cared to admit.

EXIT.