Silent Night [Plot Topic, Closed]

Those were the words that clearly described the House of Cards' closure. The yellow police tape roughly applied to the wood-nailed entrance served as a stark reminder of its wretched end. There was nothing to see here. There was nothing to listen. No more drinks are to be had and no more rave parties to dance away the daily grind. It was a soulless husk with the taint of debauchery disappeared into the rustling meaningless night. It was meant to be the end.


The tape was ripped aside while the wooden barricade was burst open. The singular figure walked inside and peered through the blackness that was the House of Cards. There was no life here. But it was obvious inside the entrance that a battle took place. Walls were gashed. Pillars sheared off to the side. It was as if a force of nature caused such damage. True, a demon could easily cause such devastation. But a Persona wasn't out of the question. Yet how many could actually pull all of this off in one night with guards swarming them? Footsteps began to slowly swarm behind him, but their owners also had skeletal masks preserving their anonymity.


They wordlessly began to scatter throughout the entire establishment. He watched silently as they began to do their work. When the hooded criminal began to search through the remains himself, he chanced upon something strange. A skull? No, it was metallic. It looked very much like a canine's likeness, but why was this here? It seemed so out of place in the House of Cards with how dented and damaged it was. Did Invidia have that kind of hobby? Or was there more to it? It made him wonder. Was this related to the Psyche-Terrorists who ruined this place? Heretic couldn't make heads or tails of the matter.

In the midst of his thoughts, a woman of the group approached him. "Sir, the security tapes and the logs are gone. We believe they took an effort to cover their tracks."

The Heretic paused. A displeased blast of steam leaked out of his mask. They took an effort to hide themselves? Something didn't quite feel right. Were these the same Platinum Playhouse members from the television broadcast? Maybe they wished to stay in the cover of anonymity a little longer and pose as entirely unknown criminals as an advantage. It was a reasonable decision. Many Psyche-Terrorists benefited from deception. But what led them to finally make a debut with the SMILE TV Station? "Bring me the server logs. Give me the list of people who logged in."

She bowed and disappeared in the mass of bodies searching for a clue. As he watched her leave, his eyes found themselves surveying the grisly blood stains on the wall. The stench of iron and rot was stuck to the place where the former District Head died. Monsters. Barbarians. All of them. The sooner they find them, the better. They are the problems that must be dealt with. After all...