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Emma had just moved to London, and everything was going wrong.
They’d gone out for dinner, her and her family, and the world went dark. The moon appeared in the sky, hanging there like it wasn’t defying all known logic, and covered the city in a green hue. Coffins surrounded her. She’d been scared before, of haunted houses and scary movies, but this was downright terrifying. And it only got worse from there.
Something was approaching her. Something small and black and almost jelly-like, with two spindly arms and a mask over its face. Something moving so fast that she’d have no way to outrun it.
“Arthur, Agi!”
Something that was suddenly up in flames, showing no pain under the expressionless mask. Emma caught a glance of what had burned it; an armoured man with a sword, floating in the air, slowly shimmering out of existence.
“Are you alright?” And a boy, probably around her age, with a gun in hand. She was going to die. “You’re lucky I was here, or else that Shadow would have hurt you real bad.”
He’d put the gun away without using it. The fear still lingered. “My name’s Jamie, by the way. You?”
“Emma?” She hadn’t meant for it to sound like a question.
Jamie turned and motioned for Emma to follow. “I take it you’re one of us, then?”
“One of who?”
“A Persona user. We’re the only ones who experience the Dark Hour.”
Emma had no clue what a Persona was. Or a Dark Hour, for that matter. When she told Jamie he just laughed.
“I take it you haven’t been here long. The Dark Hour is the twenty-fifth hour of the day. It happens at 4pm over here.”
“We flew from Australia yesterday.”
Jamie let out a little noise of understanding. “1am, then. I take it you’ve never pulled an all-nighter?”
Emma shook her head. She’d only just realised that they’d walked a fair distance away from her parents (or rather, the coffins they’d been replaced with), and she was prepared for him to kill her.
He didn’t kill her. But he did bring friends. Two girls, two boys, and a miniature pony, of all things , were waiting for them. “You find another?” One of the boys asked, pointing at Emma. Perhaps the pony was for a demonic ritual and they were going to sacrifice her to their strange dark hour god.
“Her name’s Emma. Found her by the cafe.”
The boy looked her over, probably not intending to look as creepy as he did. Then he placed a gun in her hands. “Welcome to the team, Emma. I’m Mike.”
Jamie and Mike. Natasha and Cassandra. Persona users. Their pony was named Missy, and she was just like them. Just like her .
With some encouragement, Emma held the gun ( evoker, they called it) to her temple. It wasn’t loaded, had no chamber for bullets. It was still terrifying. She still pulled the trigger.
“ Morgan!”