The train hummed through the otherworldly depths of Mementos, lights flickering across the velvet shadows as the Phantom Thieves rode in silence. But it wasn't the usual kind of silence—the focused anticipation before a mission. This one was laced with heat, unspoken thoughts, and a fragile closeness that hadn't been there before.
Ren sat at the head of the group, his gloved hands resting on his knees. The seat beside him was empty. It hadn't been when they boarded, but slowly, one by one, the others had drifted to different positions—as if unsure how close was too close.
Makoto sat diagonally across from him, her brows furrowed, eyes flicking toward him now and again, only to look quickly away when she realized she was staring. Her spine was rigid, but there was a light tremble in her hands.
Ann, beside Makoto, had her arms loosely folded over her lap, fingers tracing idle shapes on her tights. Her lips were slightly parted, as if tasting a memory. She didn't speak, but Ren caught her stealing a glance at him—then at Makoto—and then back again, a storm of questions behind her blue eyes.
Ryuji, in her new feminine form, leaned back against the cool metal of the train, legs crossed with a strange mixture of old swagger and new awkwardness. Her golden eyes kept darting to Ren's, and then away, biting her lip as if she didn't know what to do with the weight in her chest.
Yusuke sat like a statue, as elegant as ever but now undeniably altered. Her hands were clasped in her lap, long lashes lowered, as if deep in meditation—but Ren felt the pulse of something in her, a sensual creativity just barely restrained.
Haru and Futaba huddled near the back. Haru's voice was soft as she asked quiet questions, the corners of her mouth tilted in gentle concern, but every now and then she clutched the sleeve of her coat like something in her heart had been stirred. Futaba leaned her head back against the train wall, eyes closed, headphones around her neck, though she wasn't listening to music. Just listening. Feeling.
And Morgana—now female, now far quieter—sat nearest to the front, her tail twitching with unease. She hadn't said much since the last dream, but Ren could feel something inside her shifting too.
"Something's wrong," Ren finally said, breaking the silence.
They all looked at him.
He reached into his jacket and pulled out his phone. The Metaverse app had begun to glow again—not red, not blue, but an eerie silver light, pulsing in time with his heartbeat. It hadn't behaved like this since the collapse of the Metaverse months ago.
Futaba sat up straighter. "No Palace keywords. No specific target. Just… an entry point?"
Makoto frowned. "That shouldn't be possible. Not without a cognition to lock on to."
"But it's Mementos," Haru added softly. "Maybe... something else is taking form there. Something deeper. Older."
Yusuke opened her eyes slowly. "Or perhaps… something that has already awakened. A reflection of us."
The words hung in the air.
No one said it, but they all felt it. Their dreams. Their changes. The bonds growing stronger, more intimate. More consuming.
And now this.
As the train slowed, the tunnel ahead warped with a strange, pulsing energy—veins of silver and violet twisting like nerves through the stone walls. This wasn't the Mementos they remembered. It had transformed.
Just like them.
The doors hissed open.
Ren stood first. "We go in together."
One by one, they followed. No hesitation, but no banter this time either. Only silence, and the whisper of thoughts none of them were quite ready to say aloud.
They stepped into the dim corridor of the new Mementos—an unknown layer untouched by light. It wasn't just shadow that filled this place now—it was desire. Twisting through the air, thick and warm. A reflection not of corrupted hearts, but of human longing.
They weren't just investigating a distortion.
They were walking through a mirror of themselves.