Wow, I haven't done this is a while. This story was written for National Novel Writing Month, so I already have a good chunk of the story written. I just have to edit it. In any case, this is a crossover between Tales of the Abyss and Persona 3 Portable. I always liked this kind of idea, and I like playing around with it. Thank you for choosing to read my story. I hope that you enjoy it.

Disclaimer: Tales of the Abyss and Persona 3 Portable belong to their respective owners. I simply came up with the idea of a crossover.

Prologue

You can't run away from trouble. There ain't no place that far.

~James Baskett

It was a time in between times, when nothing moved, and people lay unaware, nestled safely within black and red coffins. Water was blood in this time that was nestled between midnight and a minute past, and everything in Iwatodai and the nearby Tatsumi Port Island had a green tint, except for the interior of the tower.

The tower rose into the air, the largest building in sight. Rising far up into the night sky, almost brushing the waxing moon that hung overhead, an overripe orange in the bloody night sky. A conglomeration of buildings and columns, of large gem-like structures haphazardly thrown together marred the skyline of the city. Only a select few saw the outside of Tartarus, let alone the inside, for the Dark Hour, the only time the tower was seen, was only experienced by a special few.

For only those special few could enter this time outside of time, and venture forth into the alien landscape and gaze upon the tower called Tartarus. But those who entered rarely survived their encounter with the Dark Hour, due to the monsters that lurked within.

They were called Shadows, and they lurked within Tartarus. These monsters fed on the minds of their victims, leaving behind only a hollow shell of a person, who cared not a whit for anything or anyone in this world. The Lost drowned in a sea of agony and apathy, afflicted by monsters no normal person could see. What could one do to protect themselves from these monsters, creatures that lived in a time outside of time?

It fell to those who held the Potential to solve the problem of the Dark Hour, to get rid of the malignant hour that blighted the bustling Japanese city of Iwatodai. For it was those who had the potential who could wield the power of Persona, and beat back the menacing Shadows. This was the purpose for which S.E.E.S was founded.

The Specialized Extracurricular Execution Squad was a group of students who lived in the Iwatodai Dorm for Gekkoukan High. Together, they fought to eliminate the Shadows, and to solve the mystery of the Tower of Tartarus. It was for this purpose that the group climbed the treacherous tower, and beat down the monsters that they faced.

On the 136th floor of Tartarus, a small group walked, moving forward through the halls. This was Tziah, the fourth block of the tall tower, and it was decorated in golden hues, with tall Corinthian columns, with crisp gold flooring. It looked like something out of a mansion; it was quite unsettling to the leader of the group.

Sixteen year old Misao led the way, naginata gripped in both hands. She had joined back in April, when she had first arrived at the dorms, and had joined with little hesitation. Koromaru, the most loyal of dogs, trotted by her side, teeth firmly holding on to the dagger he wielded, followed by young Ken, the youngest member of S.E.E.S. Ken who was rather small, but the spear he used and his persona Nemesis fully made up for any perceived weakness he might have.

And finally, walking in the back was Shinjiro Aragaki, beanie pulled low on his head. An ax was held in one hand, ready to cut through any Shadow that dared to provoke his ire. If one were to simply look at the brunet, they would get the impression that this was one man that you would not cross and come out of the situation unscathed. He was a fierce fighter, and Misao trusted him with her life.

She trusted all of her companions with her life.

This floor was quiet, more quiet than normal. One might have postulated that due to the fact that they group had just defeated a Guardian, the Shadows were staying away, but Misao knew from months of experience that that wasn't how Tartarus and the Shadows worked. The Shadows kept throwing themselves at you, no matter which one of their brethren you had just defeated. The fact that no Shadow had attacked the group yet set the leader on edge, waiting for an attack that had yet to come.

The others could sense her unease, she could tell. Koromaru's fur was bristling, as the canine looked around, looking for the enemy. Ken had a similar look on his face, a too serious look for the elementary student. There were times when Misao wished that Ken were living a normal life, free of the Dark Hour. But it was his decision to fight, and if he truly wished to due so, she wouldn't stop the boy. To be honest, she doubted that she was capable of changing his mind. The only thing she could do was support his choice.

Shinjiro's gaze also examined the hall of Tartarus for the enemy, but she could also feel his eyes resting on her back every so often. Misao could always tell when he was looking at her. Mainly due to the fact that when he looked at her, butterflies started to riot in her abdomen like they were being beaten with a stick. Which probably wasn't the best of analogies, but at the moment, it was all she could come up with.

"Fuuka, can you sense anything?" The girl inquired as the group moved along.

A ghostly voice answered quietly. "Nothing much… I'm getting a bad feeling though… You should hurry." Fuuka Yamagishi served as mission control for SEES. Her persona, Lucia, was close to unparalleled in it detection abilities. For even though the duo was down on the first floor of Tartarus, they could sense everything about the floor that the group was on, regardless of distance.

"Thanks Fuuka," Misao replied, silence reigning once more. Where were the stairs to the next floor? Where was the transporter? Where were the Shadows? There were too many wheres, and not enough answers, and when the group arrived at the crosswalk, they paused.

"Ken, take Koro-chan, and keep looking for the stairs. If you find the transporter, go down. I have a bad feeling about this. It's… too quiet." Misao looked down at the ten year old, who nodded solemnly at her. A grin spread across her face. "Thanks, Ken. I knew I could count on you."

Koromaru barked, reminding the girl of who Ken's companion was. Misao knelt down, and scratched Koromaru behind the ears. "You too, Koro-chan. Look after each other."

With that, the group split up, each pair going their down the branch they had chosen, quickly vanishing out of each other's sight. Shinjiro and Misao cut a steady pace, moving quickly. This was taking too long, and both of them knew what happened when things took too long on a floor of Tartarus. The girl had to move quickly to keep up with the taller man as he strode down the hall. It had become a common enough sight since Shinjiro had joined at the beginning of September: the bigger man striding along and Misao flitting about the man, talking eagerly to him. Only, in this case, both were looking for enemies that weren't showing themselves, a cold feeling caressing the backs of their necks, walking together in silence.

More than a few minutes passed, as the duo wound their way deeper into the passages. They had almost turned around when Ken relayed them a message, via Fuuka. "I've found the transporter; Koro-chan and I are returning to the entrance." With a few words more, the boy relayed to them how to reach the transporter.

"Well, shall we go then, Shinji?" Misao inquired, twirling on her foot to make an about face, a happy tone in her voice now that they knew the way out. The brunet nodded, and the duo took off, Misao showing the relieved glee that the way out was now clear, while Shinjiro had his normal, neutral expression on.

They had almost reached the crossroads, when it came.

"I sense Death!" Fuuka bleated, a panicked tone ringing in her voice. "Run!"

Shinjiro and Misao needed no more warning. The brunet grabbed Misao's hand and started sprinting, with Misao hurrying to keep up, practically getting dragged along by Shinjiro. This was bad. Nobody in their group wanted to meet the Reaper, not after what had happened last time S.E.E.S. had fought the giant Shadow. The halls in Tartarus blurred as the two ran in their desperate flight, stumbling and sliding and running as fast as their legs could take them.

Behind them, the roar of the Reaper echoed throughout the hallways, chains clanking and clinking as the deadly Shadow pursued the duo. Relentlessly, endlessly, it pursued its prey, those who dared to remain for too long on one floor of Tartarus, regardless of the intruder's purpose for invading the tower.

Once, S.E.E.S. had decided to fight the abomination. Once, S.E.E.S. had almost been wiped out. The group had never tried to fight that Shadow again, for they knew when they were outmatched. So even though Shinjiro and Misao were two of the strongest members of S.E.E.S, they still ran.

Ducking around a corner, the two barely dodged a shot. The wall was less lucky. A large gouge was torn out of a column Misao and Shinjiro had just run past. The Reaper was catching up. Shinjiro ran faster, a firm grip on Misao's hand, dragging the girl along. For while Misao was a fairly fast runner, Shinjiro's long stride was almost impossible to match, a side effect of being nearly a foot shorter than the man. Misao put on an extra burst of speed in an attempt to keep up.

They were so close, so close. The directions that Ken had given them cascaded through Misao's head as they turned corners and ran down halls. Two lefts, four rights, follow the path to the light… the sentence repeated over and over again in her head, and she mouthed the words, a mantra to keep herself from cursing. Misao didn't know how Shinjiro could be so look so calm. In spite of the fact that they were being chased, Shinjiro had somehow retained a stoic look upon his face, one that almost leaned into an expression of irritation, but never quite passed into rage.

Shots rang out behind them, barely missing their mark, a violent reminder of what would happen to the two if they stopped running. They rounded the last corner, practically sliding over the floor and crashing into a wall. The Reaper still shot at them, over and over and over again. Neither Misao nor Shinjiro saw the shot that hit the transporter. They were too busy trying to get there.

With a quick pull, Shinjiro slung Misao over his shoulder and picked up the speed, charging full throttle at the shining transporter that promised salvation, and with one last burst of energy, flung himself and Misao into the transporter and activated it.

There was a bright flash of light, one that blinded the two. In her mind, Misao saw an image of two people: a man with long fire red hair and green eyes and a woman with soft brown hair holding a knife. She opened her mouth to speak, but they were gone too quickly.

Everything was gone; only pure blackness and still silence remained.

Thank you for reading my story! Please have a nice day.

-Moonshine's Guide