A/N: My third attempt at writing a Persona story. My first left me unsatisfied, while my second had issues of me trying to establish a major AU AND crossover at the same time. Hopefully this will go a lot smoother.

This story is a crossover between Wildbow's Worm and Atlus' Persona 5. It takes place after the first three arcs of Worm, so you should have at least that much knowledge of Worm before reading. That said, I will be using information given in the second Parahuman's book, Ward. Do you need to read Ward to understand this story? No, but you'll appreciate it a lot more, and Ward is a fantastic web novel, even better than Worm in my opinion. If you get past the first few arcs, it picks up fast.

All that said, here's the story synopsis: Victoria Dallon was invulnerable. At least, that was what she liked to believed. She had a forcefield protecting her from all physical harms, after all. But she's more than a flying brick, and when she stumbles into a strange dimension born from humanity's cognition, she will learn just how damaged a person can become.

AKA what if some Worm characters became the Phantom Thieves?

Water. Why did she hear so much water?

Her eyes fluttered open, and the first thing Victoria Dallon noticed was that she was sitting on a soft chair. It was so high up, her feet weren't even touching the ground.

But I was sleeping. How did I get here? And . . . where is here?

The room she sat in was a banquet hall, with a ceiling higher than most houses. Golden chandeliers hung from it, illuminating the room. The ceiling itself was painted blue. That same blue covered the walls and fluffy looking carpet below.

As for furniture, the largest table Victoria had ever seen took up most of the room. It was made of mahogany wood, the same material of the chair she sat in. Gold trimmings ran across both table and chairs, with a violet tablecloth laid out that looked almost as soft as the violet cushions on the chairs.

Victoria shuffled on her chair, which was in the center of chairs lined up against the table. The movement caught the attention of the other occupants of the room.

"Welcome to the Velvet Room," one spoke with a soft, yet eager voice. He sat across from Victoria, with an indoor waterfall rushing behind him. That was where the water had come from.

He also looked like a textbook villain, with a bald head, long nose, and bloodshot eyes. The sight of him made Victoria's shoulders tense.

"This place exists between dream and reality, mind and matter," he said. "You may call me Igor. I am delighted to make your acquaintance."

"Did you kidnap me?" Victoria blurted. She tried to float off the chair, only for her breath to catch when nothing happened.

"Worry not," Igor said, that creepy expression of his not changing. "You are fast asleep. I have merely summoned you here within your dreams."

My dreams. So he was a Master, then.

Victoria clenched her fists, ready to leap across the table if she had to. "What do you want with me?" she demanded.

Igor clasped his hand together. "I am here to aid you in your journey, so that you may avoid the catastrophe that is imminent. But only those who sign a contract may enter this room." With his words, a clipboard floated down to the table, landing with a light clank. A pen did the same right beside it.

Victoria knocked both aside. "Do you actually think I'll fall for that?" she spat. "When New Wave finds out you're pulling this shit, you'll have an entire team on your head. So maybe you should back off and turn yourself in before that happens."

It was only because she was glaring at him that Victoria saw the flash of surprise on the man's face. It was gone after a moment, his usual smirk in its place.

"I see you are wary," he said. "Let us meet again in the future, of your own accord. Until then, farewell."

A bell, similar to that of a church, rang throughout the room. It sounded as though it were coming from far above, yet Victoria could hear it clearly.

"Wait!" Victoria shouted. For all her threats, she found herself struggling to stay in the room, even as it seemed to slip into an endless fog. What was the catastrophe Igor had mentioned, and why did Victoria need to sign a contact?

A blue butterfly fluttered across Victoria's vision, and her eyes shut involuntary. The last thought she had before waking was that she hadn't addressed the little blonde girl sitting beside Igor.

Her body ached.

Victoria groaned, putting both hands to her head. That was the only thing stopping her from running them across her arms and legs. A thousand pinpoints pricked on her skin, like her entire body had fallen asleep. Accompanying them was a minor burning sensation.

She shook her head, reminding herself that Ames had healed her yesterday. Any damage that bug bitch had done was long since removed.

She was still able to hurt me. The treacherous thought made Victoria groan as she began to get ready for the day. The Invulnerable Girl, a smaller version of Alexandria. That was her representation. She was supposed to be invisible. So how the hell had Skitter done so much damage to her?

A few minutes of grumbling later, and Victoria was ready for school. And honestly, for once, she was looking forward to it. No bank robberies, and no strange dreams with long nosed men.

What was with that dream, anyway? Her mind was half focused on making breakfast, while the other half recalled the room she had been it. It was so clear in her mind, as if a part of her had actually been there. She could even recall the wrinkles on the old man's head, as much as she didn't want to.

"Vicky?" Her sister's voice snapped her back into attention. Looking at her, you could hardly tell Amy had been knocked unconscious not even twenty-four hours ago. Her brown curls were neatly brushed over her forehead and down to her shoulders, and she was moving with the same amount of energy as she did everyday. That being too little for Victoria's liking, but that was still a work in progress.

"Hey, Ames," Victoria said. "Your head feeling better?"

A scowl flashed on Amy's face before she could hide it. "It is. We should get to school before we're late."

"Late?" Victoria pulled out her phone. "It's only . . . oh. School's starting in fifteen minutes."

"Yeah," Amy said ."Grab your breakfast and meet me outside?"

"Of course," Victoria said, glancing at her phone again. It was then that she noticed the strange app on it. Red and black, in the shape of an eye, with a star for the pupil. It had no name, and she had definitely not installed it. What the hell was it?

Another look at the clock had her forgetting about the strangeness of the app. A quick swipe deleted it, then she was grabbing her food and rushing outside.

Still, she couldn't shake the nagging feeling that she was missing something important.

"Vikare was the first superhero to start actively using his powers. Though Scion emerged five years earlier, it would take time for him to actively start helping people. Whether this was a sign in limitation from Scion, or something else, we don't know. Some believe that Scion was waiting for the first Parahumans to make appearances before falling into action himself."

Mr. Seeber took a moment to pause in his lecture, his eyes sweeping over the class. Victoria considered taking the chance to write down his words, but she'd already known everything he'd said. Not that hearing theories on Scion wasn't interesting, it just wasn't the material she was really looking forward to in her History of Capes class.

"Getting back to Vikare," Mr. Seeber said. "Who can give me the year he died?"

Victoria's hand wasn't the only one that went up, and he called on another girl instead.

"1989," she answered.

"Correct," Mr. Seeber said. "Many consider Vikare's death to be the end of the Golden Age of Parahumans. The time between his death and Behemoth's first appearance marked an age of hope and uncertainty among capes. As villains began to emerge, the perception of capes shifted constantly among the populace. We will be discussing all of this, and what it meant for the non powered population, throughout the next few days."

Mr. Seeber went on to give them their assignment for the night, and it wasn't long before the bell rang. Victoria was the first of the students leaving the room, making her way to the other end of the hall, where Dean was waiting.

Three weeks ago, Victoria was so pissed at her boyfriend that she had nearly broken off the relationship again. He had commented about not being able to take her costume seriously, and that led to an argument that Victoria couldn't even remember most of now. Regardless, she'd gotten over herself, and now they were as close as ever. A fact which Victoria proved by gently tugging on his arm.

"Hey, can we eat outside?" she asked. Dean, for his part, simply nodded, not seeming at all surprised by the request. Though with his power, he could probably guess what was going on.

"I'll grab lunch and meet you on the steps?" he offered.

In response, Victoria kissed his cheek, maybe using a bit of floating even though it was unnecessary. Hey, if she had to deal with the consequences that came from being publicly out, didn't she deserve some small benefits?

Their plan set, Victoria made her way outside. The steps weren't far from her class, and once she made it to them, she sat down to wait for Dean. With nothing better to do, she checked her phone, intending to catch up on texts.

She didn't get the chance. Instead, her focus was once again taken up by the icon with a black and red eyeball.

That app again. It had to be a virus, meaning she needed a new phone. Because she didn't have enough on her plate already. Still, she deleted it again, hoping it would stay away this time.

"Hey, sorry about that." It was Dean, settling down beside her. He'd gotten what looked to be a turkey sandwich for lunch. "You wanted to talk?"

Victoria nodded, drawing her knees closer to her chest. "I can't get yesterday out of my head. That stupid . . ." She paused, taking a deep breath. As much as she wanted to rant, it wouldn't help her at all here. "I've felt my forcefield go down before, but it never really mattered, you know? It would always pop back up and protect me. Then Tattletale found a way around it that I hadn't even thought of." She scowled. "Knowing her, she'll let every villain know how to beat me."

It took Dean a few seconds to respond. "I'm not sure she would. Despite her name, she seemed like someone who would keep secrets close to her chest."

Victoria shook her head. "It doesn't matter. I have a weakness, and if people figure it out, they'll try to exploit it."

Dean sighed. "You're not wrong. Couldn't you misdirect them, though? Like I do with my powers?"

Right. Most people believed Gallant was a Tinker. He'd been a Ward for a while now, and still no one knew the truth behind his powers. If Victoria tried a similar tactic with her forcefield . . .

"Your mom might have some ideas," Dean suggested.

Victoria made a face. "Mom . . . probably would. But she doesn't even know how I got hurt yesterday, and she still lectured me for an hour about letting them touch me. If she finds out I hovered in the middle of a swarm and gloated, I'll never hear the end of it."

"And Amy? What does she think?" There was something in Dean's voice that gave Victoria pause. He had brought up his concern over Victoria's sister before, but this time sounded different somehow. As if he was expecting something to have happened.

"She's been too focused on her own problems," Victoria said. "Being taken hostage and knocked out screwed with her a little. I'm going to take her to get some fast food, see if I can distract her as she processes everything."

"If I can do anything to help—"

"I'll let you know," Victoria promised. She grimaced. "God, yesterday really sucked for all of us. How the hell were they able to get away from practically every junior hero in the city?"

Dean put a hand on her shoulder. "We'll get them next time. Small-time villains like those never last long."

That was enough to make Victoria grin. "Yeah, you're right. Thanks, Dean. I—"

She was cut off by a scream, coming from around the school's corner. Hearing that, Victoria didn't even stop to glance at Dean before taking off. A heartbeat passed, and she rounded the corner, eyes narrowing at what she saw.

On the field beside the school, a boy, who couldn't have been older than 14, was on the ground, clutching his leg. Standing above him was a boy possibly older than Victoria, with similar facial features and the same brown hair as the kid he had clearly just struck. His foot was raised, ready to escalate even further.

The bully was no criminal, but he didn't need to be. As his foot began its descent, Victoria dove. Both kids cried out, then Victoria had ahold of the bully's leg, inches away from the younger kid's face. Tightening her grip, she lifted him into the air upside down.

"Bullying at the school Glory Girl goes to?" she hissed. "Are you really that much of an idiot?"

He spat. "Stay out of this, Dallon. This is a family matter."

Victoria changed her grip so that she was holding his shirt, flipping him around so she could meet his glare with her own. "I don't give a shit. You hit him, you deal with me. Unless you have a very good reason."

"He stole my friend!" He yelled, wide-eyed. "Ian stopped talking to me, blocked my number, and now I see those two talking at lunch behind my back? Fuck that."

"Fuck you!" the kid on the ground retorted. "You were an ass to both of us. What else were we supposed to do?"

"You—" The bully was cut off by Victoria shaking him.

"Save it," she said. "You have issues to sort out, but taking your brother outside to beat him up crosses a line. So stop."

"Or what?" he sneered. "You think beating up a few criminals makes you better than us? You act tough, but you're really just an oversized Barbie." Anything else he might have said turned into a gasp, as terror flashed through his face before he scrunched it.

The expression was enough to make Victoria pause. And it was then that her mind caught up with the rest of her body. Her fist was pulled up, moments away from slamming down on the kid's nose. A bully, yes, but still a kid. He probably wasn't even a part of any gang.

Victoria dropped him. Immediately, he scrambled up and ran. His brother was following him, despite his limp, and Victoria realized that she had subconsciously ramped up her aura.

"Victoria!" Dean was running around the corner, eyes wide. Not nearly as wide as Victoria's own. "What happened?"

Slowly, with an almost jerky motion, Victoria stared down at her hands. The one she had nearly punched the kid with was shaking.

Dean spoke again, but Victoria didn't hear it.

She was already gone.

If Victoria thought her day couldn't get any worse, she was wrong. After the incident, school seemed to drag on forever. Anything the teachers said had gone over Victoria's head, to the point where she wasn't entirely sure what her assignments for the night were.

Home wasn't any better. Amy had gone to the hospital—again—so Victoria had no one to talk to. Anytime she thought about calling some friends and heading out, she stopped herself. Going out didn't feel right, but there was nothing for her at home. That led to her lying in bed on her phone, turning over every few minutes. How the hell did some people manage doing this every day?

And then at night . . .

"Bombs?" Victoria blurted. "As in multiple, going off all across the city, hurting innocent people?"

Carol sighed, pinching the bridge of her nose. "That's what Director Piggot told us. The ABB seems to be the most likely suspect."

"Then why the hell are we in here," she flung her arms toward the door, "instead of out there?"

Carol raised a hand to calm her, even though she had stopped moving by that point. "Paramedics are handling most of the rescue, and we can't target anyone without more information. We're going to work with the PRT on this one, and that means waiting for the Director to give us more information."

"But—"

"No buts. Once we scope out the situation, I won't stop you from helping. But until then, the only one of us going anywhere is Amy, and she will only be at the hospital, helping the victims."

Okay, that did anything but calm Victoria. "Amy's out there? At least let me check up on her. Please, Mom!"

Carol tensed briefly, before exhaling. "Alright," she said. "But you better be home in two hours. Understood?"

Victoria activated her flight, floating forward to hug her mom. "Thank you! Two hours, okay. Love you!"

Carol smiled. "Love you too. Now get going."

She didn't need to be told twice.

It was worse than she could have imagined.

The corridor was filled with screams and moans, coming from every direction. There were so many new patients that some had to wait in the hallway, crowding around each other and giving Victoria a view of the damage done. She could have handled ugly burns, she'd seen them before. But while there were plenty of people with blackened, bubbling skin, they were somehow only the minor casualties.

A woman whimpered while picking at half her face—the half which had turned to crystal, and had fragments falling off of it. Beside her was a young boy with no legs. Or rather, Victoria realized with growing horror, his legs had been liquified, and were flowing like gel, sticking to his body with sporadic yanks.

He may have been lucky, considering an old man was clutching a chunk of leg that had fallen off him. Why he felt the need to bring it with him, Victoria didn't know. People rarely thought straight during shock.

These injuries and more flooded Victoria's senses, yet it was the prayers, the sobs, and the wailing that made her nearly thrown up. Rushing to an empty hall didn't help, since the distant groans would still reach her ears. The only thing stopping her from getting sick was Amy's appearance, as she walked out of a hospital room. As the door closed behind her, Victoria could see a young girl on a hospital bed being embraced by her parents. All three were crying.

"Amy!" Victoria was at her sister's side in an instant. Amy looked more tired than Victoria had ever seen her, and she had been there to greet Amy after two all-nighters at the hospital. The bags under her eyes were somehow getting deeper, and she was slow to look up at Victoria.

Amy blinked. "Victoria? What are you doing here?"

Victoria hugged her. "Checking on you, silly. Are you going to be here all night?"

Amy looked down, her skin pink from exertion. "I have to be," she mumbled. "People need me." She ended the hug, and started to step away until Victoria put a hand on her shoulder.

"Hey," Victoria said, the slightest smile on her face. "You're amazing, and these people are so lucky you're here. But you have to rest. Even if you just take a half-hour nap. No one will get help if you collapse."

Amy sighed. "I won't collapse. The night's almost over, anyway."

"Amy, it's . . ." Victoria pulled out her phone, "11:30." She almost put her phone away, except the strange app was back. And this time, it opened up, the icon expanding to take up her whole screen. She frowned, before turning her attention back to Amy. "You'll be up for hours if you keep going like this."

It hurt to see Amy deflate in that moment, especially because Victoria knew what she was about to say.

"I don't have a choice," Amy said.

Before Victoria could retort that, a nurse walked up to them. "Panacea," she said, "there's a group of critical patients in the West Wing. They were caught in the center of a bomb, and they need you as soon as possible."

Victoria hated the look in Amy's eyes. There was no alarm at the news, just . . . resignation. Like she had done this a thousand times, and knew she would do it a thousand more.

"I'll be there in a minute," Amy said. Then, after a pause long enough that the nurse almost walked away, "Thank you."

The nurse nodded before taking off. Amy, meanwhile gave Victoria a sad smile. Seeing it, Victoria slumped.

"Go," she said. "But remember, Amy, this is a hospital, not a racetrack. You can't rush yourself."

Amy didn't seem to know how to respond, so she didn't. Instead, she nodded, before taking off, leaving Victoria alone.

Victoria took a deep breath. A quick glance around the hallway showed that no patients had been moved to the hallway. It would have been far too optimistic to assume they were all being treated.

"Great," she said. "Way to help, Victoria."

With nothing better to do, she looked down at her phone. The app was still open, except now there were words on the screen. Amy Dallon. Hospital. Racetrack.

"Wha-" Victoria's question was interrupted by a wave of nausea, as black and red overtook her vision. The sensations were too much, forcing her to close her eyes.

Then she opened them, and her life changed forever.

A/N: A little convenient that Victoria used that analogy, but I'd argue it's not anymore convenient than Ryuji's "king of the castle" remark. As for the first Palace being a racetrack, I went through some ideas, and this seemed the most fun. I also have ideas on how I can incorporate cognitive selves and other elements into a racetrack themed palace. I hope you'll all enjoy them.