Chapter Text
LOCATION: THE DOCTOR’s Domain.
Before the events of the descent.
Clanks against the ground.
Steps.
Dozens.
Mechanical.
Sinister.
Predictable.
Arachnid.
The Prototype walked into Harley's domain. Finding himself against the cryo pod hiding his one use. His brain.
Then, just above the stasis pod, a monitor, which slowly turned on.
Harley met it again, the same unmoving grin, the orchestrator, a mesh of all his experiments. What was once his prize, his work, his golden path, was now nothing more that scrap.
Nevertheless, Harley greeted him with an expression of lifeless joy “Hmm, now to what do i owe this pleasure”
The prototype stared directly at him, twitching, before responding.
“Your suggestions continue to FAIL ME, i am BEGINNING to think i am better off ALONE”
The joy was short-lived.
“Regardless of what you may think of me, my use remains the same, i am your best bet, so continue to remember me as such.
The prototype trailed his hand across the pod housing Harley’s Brain.
“You are BEGiNNING to be leaving trails, trails THAT I must clean. I F T H I S….CONTIUES-
It won’t, calm yourself, you are beginning to slip, and the last thing I need is to pull the weight of an injured pup preoccupied with its own tail .”
The screen zapped.
“Hmm? Now what this”
“What is concerning yourself DOCTOR”
“Let’s see here.”
LOCATION, OUTSIDE PLAYTIME CO.
Junko’s heels crunched on the gravel, sharp and relentless beneath the looming shadow of the factory. Her eyes traced the blood-stained, rusted “Welcome to Playtime Co.” sign, hanging precariously by a single bolt, swaying like a corpse on a hook.
“Ughhh. This place is so last season—and yet, I adore it. That perfect blend of corporate denial and industrial slaughter. Mmm~ despair chic.”
Mukuro stood rigid, eyes locked on the towering gates. Not a flicker of hesitation—not at the rot, not the wind, not even the faint metallic scent hinting at wounds that still bled beneath the surface.
“Orders?”
JUNKO giggled, spinning on her heel to face her sister.
“Oh, come on, Mukuro. Don’t tell me you’re not thrilled! All these juicy little bodies... rotting in their plastic shells... and nobody’s claimed the throne yet?”
Suddenly, laughter erupted—an uncontrollable cascade, sharp and toxic.
“Heheheheheheh—HEHEHEHE! Oh, so despair-inducing... so tragic. This place must be soaked in blood. The poor sweet orphans… oh, how wild. The mind behind it all—it’s intoxicating. It fills me with…”
She twisted, throwing up gang signs with manic glee.
“MOTHERFUCKING DESPAAAIIIRRR YEAH!!!”
MUKURO watched, silent but entranced, drinking in her sister’s madness with quiet reverence.
Junko’s tone shifted suddenly, smoothing into that of a teacher—hair pulled tight into a ponytail, glasses slipping down her nose.
JUNKO:
“Now, now. We’ve kept our students unoccupied for far too long. Let the lesson begin.”
Her hands pressed firmly to the cold iron gates.
The doors groaned open.
And despair entered.
—--------------------------
With both of their first steps in, the air solidified, as if holdings its own breath, desaturated colours of mascots drawn on the wall.
Junko took a liking immediately “OOOOOHHH, Chillllly, me likey, me likey a lot”
Mukuro stood stiff, the cold against her blood coated skin made no difference to her composure.
The two of them stood opposite the reception desk, as empty as the rest of the sterile floors.
Nevertheless, against the grain, Junko rang the dusty bell. Over and over. “Yello, hello, anyone home?! Yoyoyoyo!!”
Nothing, but the bell's small withering ring against the walls.
Junko placed her
—----------------
“Hmm, well well, two little offsprings out of touch with rapid wilting”
The prototype merely stared, clearly out of patience “W e l l WHAT EXACTLY did you F I N D OUT?!”
Harley hesitated, though the Prototype’s tenacity outlined the futility of lying. “Certain cretins have made their way into the factory. They–
The prototypes eye lit up, twitching, his smile didn’t move, though, as he ran closer to the monitor.
“SOMEONE IS H E R E ! ? !”
“Yes, two children by the looks, fragile, tame” he continued the analysis, “one holds a firearm, the other, well, her personality is scattered, she is interesting.”
The prototype scanned him, for any new description, though the specifics were unknown.
The prototype scraped his hand across the pod, before twitching. “YOU said it Y O U R S E L F, They are merely children, 1170 can D E A L W I T H THEM!!”
Harley kept the information to himself.
“Yes, quite so, will you be taking your leave now”
The Prototype twitched briefly, before taking a step back. His entire being
“For now, keep an E Y E, on them, if 1170, F A I L S to DEAL WITH t h e m, a l e r t me IMMEDIATELY” his face completely fell completely into view.
Harley merely scoffed “why of course”
The prototype looked at the pod, housing his brain, then around the various monitors surrounding it, each one functioning, a light cackle escaped him, one of various boys and girls alike.
He then quickly disposed of one of Harley’s bots surrounding his domain, dismantling it in one slash, each one larger than the normal person.
Though the prototype was no normal person.
With the same toothy, sinister grin, the Prototype left.
Harley on the other hand, stayed, no other option, as the prototype’s arachnid legs pulsated against
He switched screens.
“You……….both of you, you are……less traditional….let me observe you, see what secrets you hold”
Those thoughts echoed in his mind, as the two stepped into the main lobby, to greet Huggy Wuggy.
—-------------
Mikan: “I… I-Is this really where they kept children? It looks like a dream but… but it f-feels like…”
Fuyuhiko stepped up beside her, fists clenched, eyes scanning every corner.
Fuyuhiko: “It’s a damn ghost town. All that color, all that fake sunshine... like it’s trying to distract us. Hide something.”
Kazuichi stumbled forward, one hand on a rusted fence, the other pointing up at the hanging clouds.
Kazuichi: “It’s like we’re inside a painting. A freaky one. W-Where the hell is the sky? Why does it feel like it’s watching us…?”
Hajime was the last to speak. He didn’t look at the clouds. He looked straight ahead — at the statue, at the stairs leading deeper. Something in his gut twisted.
Hajime: “Because it is.”
They stood there for a while. Not moving. Not daring to. The air was warm — too warm. Artificial. Controlled.
Before them lay a massive garden — the Playcare Central Hub — bathed in a sickly simulation of daylight. Painted clouds drifted lazily above, hanging from rails and pulleys. A statue of children holding hands crowned the center, its smiles cracked but eternal. Surrounding them, decayed play structures, vines choking the remains of a once-joyful utopia.
—
All four of them walked in unison, every corner they didn’t look at felt like it housed something sinister. They had all been there for only a few minutes, yet it felt like something was watching each of them, eyes were on them
Each of them hoped that it was only a feeling, though the monitor moving with them made them seconds away from crying.
Streetlamps with the red dinosaur.
Trashcans with the blue clown.
Multiple different posters of those critters they had encountered.
Many swings and fake grass
And in the dead centre of it was the pillar, on top of it stood shrines of the critters, holding hands.
Around one side of it was a door.
Hajime looked at it “playcare generator room?”
The other three quickly made their way to him, as he slowly opened the door, as if the door itself was another test.
—--------------
PLAYCARE GENERATOR ROOM.
It was nothing special, the same desaturated colours they had gotten used too for awhile
A generator, unusually colourful, a tube, and a machine, overseeing the various locations of the facility, as well as sockets surrounding the machine.
HOME SWEET HOME.
SCHOOLHOUSE.
TOY STORE.
PLAYHOUSE.
COUNSELLORS OFFICE.
Each of them offline, implying all of them were out of power.
Hajime stared at it, observing it all. Mikan stared reasonably close to him
Kazuichi looked at the word offline “the hell, power’s off, great way for the kids i tell ya”
“Tell me about it” Fuyuhiko grumbled under his breath “what kinda off brand factory is this, stupid looking shit”
Just then—-
“Just like himself, nothing….but a blind attempt at peace, bound by a curse of morality, see where it got you”
Mikan yelped behind Hajime
—------
The fake daylight hadn’t brightened again. It stayed dim — sleepy, murky, like a dream that never fully woke up. The silence was starting to become unbearable. And when the silence wasn’t unbearable, the thoughts were.
They sat close together now. Still. Quiet. No one had slept. Not really.
Somewhere behind the fake clouds above, the muffled groan of metal turned like a stomach digesting.
Kazuichi was the first to speak — and not even with words, really. He just sighed into his knees, then muttered:
“…I wonder where the others are.”
The question was simple. The answer wasn’t.
It hung in the air. Where were they?
Chiaki. Sonia. Gundham. Akane. Nekomaru. Nagito.
Fuyuhiko leaned forward, his elbows resting on his knees, his fists tight again.
Fuyuhiko: “Damn it… we were about to go into a class trial. I remember that. We were right there. Then the lights went out and— he showed up.”
The air grew colder, even under the dim fake sun.
“Yeah, him…” Hajime muttered.
Mikan spoke of him like a cancer “H-H-Harley Sawyer”
“You know, he’s probably watching us right now” Grumbled a miserable Fuyuhiko.
“Yeah of course he is” Kazuichi muttered. “Watching us like a creeper.”
Kazuichi just looked around, fake plants, dozens of bushes, trash can, tables, playground. "so uhm.....what do we do now?"
Hajime looked at Mikan then back at Kazuichi "we rest"
—--------
LOCATION: THE DOCTOR’S DOMAIN.
“Hmm, how rather interesting.”
Near Harley, stood many many monitors, each placed around various different areas of the factory.
Harley had notes around procuring information, on where everyone had fallen.
MAKE-A-FRIEND ROOM: Sonia Nevermind.
THE STATION: Akane Owari, Gundamn Tanaka.
PLAYCARE: Hajime Hinata, Mikan Tsumiki, Kazuichi Soda, Fuyuhiko Kuzuryu.
THE LABS: Nagito Komaeda.
The last one was particularly surprising.
“To survive such a fall, such luck……though, i suppose where you’ve found yourself is far worse now”
Each of them were qualitative, to his liking, everyone of them, Different…talented, such Quality.
“Such….destruction, at such hands, hard to imagine that those of such quality committed these acts……and yet”
He paused, something filled him.
“They are here, whole, one.”
His eye contorted, the faint purple enveloped by a bloodish red.
“Able to feel.”
More.
“Able to taste”
More.
“A second chance”
Back into his domain, he got a good look at himself.
twist.
The eye contorted into the blood red, large gnashing teeth occupied the screen, opening to reveal yet another eye, twitching.
“AND YET!!”
He stopped himself, that same thought now a mere thousand.
The red soon softened back into the purple, the mouth disappearing along with it.
“Mortality is the curse of the weak.”
The words distorted upon exiting the screen.
“Elliot, your machines may have followed me here, but when all this blunders, i will bury myself so deep in this realm of code its very existence will be tied to me.”
He then took a look at one of his fabled creations. Seeing the resting class of four.
“For a great a mind as she was, she was a fool, procured with only her entertainment…….i ensured humanity’s evolution”
A pause.
“And for that, i am a tyrant.”
“Is that not right.”
His eye contorted again, this time into two.
Then four.
Six.
Twelve.
“M R M A K O T O N A E G I”
—--------------------
for a while… the quiet returned.
But this time, it wasn’t suffocating.
It was still. Heavy, yes — but shared. Held between them, like a blanket.
Kazuichi broke it first.
He stretched his legs out dramatically and flopped back onto the floor. “Alright, so I don’t mean to be the first one to say it, but — this place SUCKS.”
Fuyuhiko smirked. "You just now figuring that out, mechanic boy?”
Kazuichi pointed an accusatory finger upward. “Hey! I was trying to be optimistic. Maybe it was just a creepy daycare, I thought. Maybe the next room is a candy room, I thought. But no. Noooope. Creepy robot eye and murder riddles. And a killer clown cat poster. I take it back. This is officially a nightmare.
Mikan gave a soft giggle. It was small — barely audible — but it was real. The kind that surprised even herself. “Y-You t-thought we’d get candy? H-here??”
Kazuichi gasped in mock offense.“You wound me, Nurse Tsumiki. You dare question my candy dreams?!”
Fuyuhiko chuckled under his breath. “You are the type to get lured in by a ‘Free Lollipops’ sign.”
“IT HAPPENED ONE TIME!”
They all laughed — even Hajime, who had been quiet since Harley’s disappearance. He turned to Mikan, who was still giggling softly, then gave her shoulder a gentle squeeze.
“...You okay?”
Mikan blinked, surprised at first — then nodded quickly.
“Y-Yes! I-I mean… I-I’m still… nervous. A-and tired. A-And my stomach feels like a bunch of wet paper towels got stuffed inside it… b-but… you’re all here. So…”
Her voice trailed off. But she smiled.
Hajime merely smiled, so she did aswell.
She seems to be doing better, though I can't help but wonder what exactly she saw.
Mikan stiffened though “u-uhm, Hajime, i can’t help but realize, you seem hurt, and fatigued, is it alright if i check you.”
Hajime just watched, turning his gaze on his knee, indeed, he had been grazed quite severely.
Just then–
“Ah, and you still take your sweet time, though one can only hope for ones tenacious enough for pain”
“Tenacious enough my ass” Fuyuhiko clapped back “we went through your trials, we deserve some rest”
For a moment, silence.
“Quite so, and in return, my services will prove….useful to you, not for your benefit of course, but for mine, head to the generator room.
Without any room for any other options, they wordlessly headed to it.
—---
Upon arriving, they all just propped themselves right next to the chute.
“A token of gratitude.”
“You’ve given me such valuable insight today. Into how people bond. How memories soften trauma. How laughter conceals damage. I’m… delighted.”
Harley let the silence sit for a moment.
Then—
“…But even within unity, we find voids. Little gaps. Little secrets.”
From the chute, came what looked to be four backpacks.
Kazuichi’s eyes lit up immediately, as he looked like he discovered his favourite toy.
“These will certainly help you, find your footing, learn, adapt, i will be taking notes.”
Not another word was extended.
Clenching his fist, Fuyuhiko just grumbled “asshole”
Kazuichi gave way to his curiosity, “ooh, now what do we have here?”
“Looks like some sort of hands, “grabpacks” he called it.” Hajime murmured.
Hajime grabbed one, a basic blue and red hand.
Mikan grabbed another, blue left and purple right.
Kazuichi grabbed a green right and blue left.
And lastly Fuyuhiko grabbed a blue left and red right, only his was in the shape of a fingergun What followed them was a tape showing how they worked..
The tape began to play.
A cheerful instructional video rolled across the screen, demonstrating the basic mechanics of the grabpacks — extending the cables, grabbing objects, retracting them back toward the user.
The tone of the tape was almost painfully upbeat compared to the oppressive quiet of the factory.
“So it’s showing us the basic functions of the hands,” Hajime concluded as the video ended.
Mikan thought of something, though they came out so self-deprecating. “W-w-well, they could just be c-cosmetic.”
Fuyuhiko intervened “doubt it, mine’s a fingergun and yours has some different design.”
Kazuichi couldn’t help but gravitate towards Hajime’s grabpack “Hajime, i think yours is a jetpack”
“Really?”
He confirmed. “Yours has little thrusters on the back, neither Fuyuhiko, Mikan or me have that, of course they wont allow you to fly, but they would slow your fall, so you could fall from a great height and you’re as good as gold.”
Hajime just let out a slow exhale “nice”
Kazuichi lit up even more, anymore spelt his mind exploding “hows about we test these puppies?”
The other 3 agreed, and they made their way.
Without another word, Hajime stepped outside and saw a tiny plastic bench, before extending one of the hands out towards the bench. It immediately latched on, and Hajime retracted.
The bench came across it.
“Hmm, not bad at all”
The other three stared in awe.
“W-w-wow Hajime, amazing” Mikan tried the same thing, it worked all the same.
Her face lit up with surprise.
“I-it worked…”
Kazuichi pumped his fist excitedly.
“Oh this is gonna be fun.”
Fuyuhiko simply watched the cables retract with narrowed eyes.
“…Yeah.”
His tone remained cautious.
“Let’s just hope we don’t need these things for something worse.”
Kazuichi stared up to the pillar, and shot his grabpack up, grabbing one of the ears of the statues, to everyone but his surprise, he was lifted up.
He was soon standing on top of the pillar. “Woah dudes, these things are crazy cool.”
Hajime stared up “how do you plan on getting up?”
“I don’t for now, you get up here”
Hajime reluctantly gave into the demand and met him, levitating just like him.
“Now what?”
“Jump, see what you’re thrusters do”
Hajime stared at him “hell no am i doing that!? You think i’m stupid enough for that?”
Kazuichi reassured him “man you think i got all this way being wrong about machines”
Hajime had no rebuttal, swallowed, and jumped.
Sure enough, the descent was slow, calm, nice.
“W-w-wow Hajime, t-t-that was amazing”
“H-heh nice”
Kazuichi grabbed an ear with the back and came down like a rock climber.
“See what'd i tell ya”
Fuyuhiko snickered “yeah yeah you were right, now you can test what this does” he shot a shot at Kazuichi, who screamed like a girl, before looking at Fuyuhiko with mocking offence.
They all shared a laugh.
……..
“Interesting, Yes, and as such, what is a mission, without trials, why must a mirror be so hard to look into, why must you fracture without staring into the eyes of the beast, when you don’t even know where to look?"
They all stiffened, Hajime stood closer.
“What are you going on about now?”
He answered, but not as if he was answering Hajime, but himself.
“Initiative, that is what you require, initiative. heheheheHAHAHAHAHA”
……………..
The laughter cut off so suddenly.
As did the lights, nothing but a blank, whispering void.
Mikan shrilled and Kazuichi screamed.
Fuyuhiko instinctively lit up his flare. The large 5 etched turned to a 4. With that, they made their way to playcare.
It was so silent, nothing but the faint moonlight.
Mikan thought she saw something.
Kazuichi could have sworn the trashcans were there.
Fuyuhiko lit up the area in front of them, a small orange flare, though better than nothing. Unfortunately for all of them, they were limited to five at a time.
Though with each dark portion, it felt like they were being watched. Even worse.
The entire place was dark.
Hajime broke the former silence that was filled with whimpers “we need to go to that map near the cart”
No other words. And they did.
The map has six visible locations.
Hajime had no plan, he just pointed at the location on the map, HOME SWEET HOME.
—-----------
The door creaked open—not with the whine of old hinges, but the wet, sinewy groan of something that had been... waiting.
The four stepped inside cautiously, shoulders brushing in close formation as if the space itself might swallow them one by one. The interior resembled the hollowed-out remains of a child's dollhouse: pristine wallpaper peeling at the edges, family portraits whose faces were scratched out with nails, a TV playing white static in a pitch-black room. The scent of iron and something sweet lingered, like candy left to rot.
Fuyhiko’s eyes narrowed.
“This looks like someone’s idea of nostalgia got chucked in a meat grinder.”
Mikan was frozen—already sweating, her hands trembling harder than before.
Kazuichi turned slowly, looking at the corners of the room. “This... this gas—wait a sec. That smell—!”
A faint hiss filled the air.
Then the red rolled in.
Thick.
Warm.
Suffocating.
Red mist poured from the vents, coating the floor, then creeping up their legs like grasping hands. It fogged the air with a heavy, humid heat. They all remembered the nausea it brought.
But only Mikan had seen him. The living shadow stitched into feline form.
Her legs buckled.
She dropped to her knees with a strangled gasp, fingers clawing at the floor.
“N-No—no no no, he’s here—he’s here—!”
She was already crying, arms around herself, breath hyperventilated.
Hajime knelt beside her.
“Mikan—look at me! Breathe. We’re here, alright? You’re safe. You’re not alone this time.”
But the gas was already inside them. Slithering through their lungs. Thoughts began to dislocate.
And then—
The monitor snapped to life again.
That eye.
But this time, it wasn’t alone.
A dozen new eyes erupted from the corners of the screen—some vertical, some bulbous, some reptilian, all of them twitching and dilating in joyous chaos.
The door behind them slammed shut—clack.
The lock twisted.
Gone.
They turned—there was only one path now.
Down.
A stairwell unfurled before them—old, wooden, and descending into flickering darkness.
They began the descent slowly at first, legs heavy, balance unsteady. The gas continued to thicken, clinging to their skin, curling through their hair. The stairs creaked with each step, but they never ended.
One landing passed. Then another.
Another.
More.
Then more again.
Their pace slowed. Time began to blur. Gravity tilted.
Their knees gave out. One by one.
—---
Each step hurt.
Not figuratively—literally.
With every passing movement, Mikan felt it: knives, plunging into the soles of her feet. The weight of each step doubled, like her own body had turned against her, trying to warn her off. Like this corridor was punishing her for daring to move.
Something was coming.
Or… something was waiting.
But she walked anyway.
The corridor extended endlessly before her—stretching, reshaping, multiplying. It resembled a school... some school... but no specific one. The lockers shifted in height, the lights above flickered as if on a syncopated heartbeat, and the floor tiles rearranged subtly each time she blinked.
It wasn’t a hallway. It was a puzzle.
One meant to be walked.
One meant to be felt.
And MIKAN felt everything.
She could hear her thoughts.
Not think them—hear them. Whispering from the walls like mold-stained secrets.
Cruel thoughts. Familiar ones.
WHISPERING VOICES (echoing):
“A victim of dart games...”
“Debt repays...”
“Cutting hair...”
“Burning with cigars...”
“Imitations of animals... all of it...”
“...I-It m-made them n-not h-h-hate m-me...”
That was all she’d ever wanted.
Her voice cracked as she called out—not just to Hajime, not just to the three with her—but to anyone.
Gundham. Akane. Sonia. Nagito. Even... Hiyoko.
Her voice echoed.
No one answered.
The air was cooler now.
Colder.
Scarier.
Even the oxygen felt untrustworthy—she couldn’t even rely on the very thing that kept her alive. Not the air. Not the floor beneath her.
She stopped.
Her vision blurred with fear.
The hallway began to tremble.
The walls shuddered.
Her breath caught in her throat.
And then—he appeared.
Twelve and a half feet tall, even while on all fours. The rest of him was a blur—colorless, indescribable, as if her mind couldn't process what it saw.
But the eyes...
Those wide, glassy, ever-watching eyes—fixed on her, locked, unflinching.
And the mouth—not quite visible, but so big she could feel the grin across dimensions. It wasn’t joy. It wasn’t insanity. It was... calculation.
The look of a predator playing with its food.
He stared for what felt like hours.
Silent. Still.
Why... why can’t I move?
I want to run. I HAVE to run.
But... why can’t I?
I want to move. Move!
I can’t even... cry.
Why... why me?
Mikan trembled.
And then, HE moved.
He didn’t charge.
He turned—slowly—retreating into the darkness.
As he disappeared, Mikan caught a glimpse of his body: skeletal, like a carcass starved of sustenance. Slender, but not frail. Predatory. His tail coiled behind him like a weapon—long enough to strangle.
And then—gone.
Mikan remained frozen, eyes wide in uncomprehending terror.
She turned to flee—but stopped when a monitor above flickered on.
This wasn’t Harley’s eye.
It wasn’t red.
It wasn’t laughing.
It was... familiar.
Comfortable, even.
The screen descended slowly, cracking, flickering—but still working.
On it was a photo.
A class photo.
Class 77-B.
Teruteru. Byakuya. Nekomaru. Ibuki. Hiyoko. Nagito. The others.
And... MIKAN, standing in uniform. The standard Hope’s Peak uniform.
But—no Chiaki. No Hajime.
“I-I-I don’t u-understand... w-when did we t-t-take this picture?”
She stepped back in horror, her breath short.
The screen glitched.
Beneath her feet, in bold, blood-red block letters:
“THIS WONDERFULLY TRAGIC FEELING OF DESPAIR.”
She stumbled backward. Her skin went clammy.
The monitor shifted—new footage now.
The laugh hit her first.
That signature laugh—the one she hadn’t heard in what felt like a lifetime.
“M-M-M-M-Monokuma...!?”
There he was.
Monokuma.
Dancing, waving. Glitchless. Pure.
“Puhuhuhuhu... Well if it isn’t my favourite anxious nurse, Miss Mikan Tsumiki! Back from your encounter with the big eye in the sky? It’s good to see the ticking, tripping time bomb!”
She didn’t move.
She should’ve been horrified.
But she wasn’t.
She was almost... comforted.
Monokuma. The familiar cruelty. The structure.
A known chaos.
“Puhuhu... You look like you’ve seen a ghost! Or you are one! How about you put that talent of yours to good use by prescribing some medication—after all, helping people is your strong suit.
He was right.
Even she couldn’t argue.
Shaking. Stammering. Failing.
She only mattered when someone was already dying.
Even if she had proof otherwise—she wouldn’t believe it.
“Puhuhu... Actually, now that I think about it—”
His voice contorted.
His body glitched.
And then—it disappeared, swallowed by a growing, twisting red spiral.
Harley’s eye contorted onto a screen.
“Even your usefulness can be a weapon.”
“To twist the narrative of control.”
On the screen—images.
Ibuki. Hiyoko.
Smiling.
Then dead.
Smiling again.
Mikan's mind spiraled. She couldn’t move.
She couldn’t look away.
Why are they here?
Why are they showing this?
What does it mean?
The air rang with voices. Reverberating. Cold.
Then—
Harley’s eye twisted.
Vanished.
The screen went black.
But something crawled out of the static.
A photo.
Chiaki.
Smiling.
Hajime beside her.
“C-C-C-Chiaki!?”
A new voice crackled on the monitor.
Not Harley.
Not Monokuma.
Not even distorted.
A girl’s voice.
Her age.
Maybe... even her own.
A voice Mikan didn’t recognize.
“You think that’s all you are, don’t you?”
“Someone too pathetic to do any wrong.”
“You mess up, but can’t fight. You plague the room, but can’t speak. You heal the weak, but can’t fix yourself.”
“That’s you... right?”
Mikan opened her mouth—
Another voice.
Her voice.
But she didn’t say it.
“Yes, my beloved.”
Her breath hitched. She gasped for air.
The voice returned.
“Do you really need more air? After all…”
Chiaki’s face on the monitor contorted—twisting into something unrecognizable. Something inhuman. A mockery of her. All wrong. Eyes glassy. Smile dislocated. Skin too tight.
“She’s lost plenty.”
Then—
Chiaki BURST through the screen.
Crawling.
Scraping.
Wrong.
“C-C-C-CHIAKI!? W-W-WAIT—!!”
Mikan stumbled backward—legs flailing, barely moving.
The Chiaki-thing chased her, crawling on all fours, smile unblinking, eyes locked.
“HAJIME! FUYUHIKO! KAZUICHI! NAGITO!!
A-ANYONE!!
H-HEEEEEEEEELLLLLPPPPP—!!!”
—------
Mikan woke in a frantic yelp. "AGHH!"
Hajime immediately jolted, while Fuyuhiko and Kazuichi frantically ran to her.
"Hey, Mikan, you okay?"
"Shit, that's one way to wake up!"
"crap, our nurse is dying."
The silence in Home Sweet Home wasn’t peaceful—it was wrong.
Not the kind of silence that invited rest, but the kind you find inside a sealed box. Muffled. Pressurized. Stale. The air was thick with dust, particles dancing in shafts of sickly light that barely trickled from above. The once-bright pastels of the room had faded to sickly hues. Muted pinks. Murky greens. Dollhouse blues rotted into grays.
Clouds hung from strings. Toys lined the shelves, untouched for decades. Everything felt crafted to be safe—and yet it all screamed danger.
Hajime stirred, her breath hitching as she sat upright. Her hair clung to her face with static. Her limbs ached with post-fall tremors. Her fingers twitched. “W-Where... are we?”
She looked around. Her friends were scattered like mismatched puzzle pieces.
Hajime knelt by her side, gaze steady.
Kazuichi was halfway embedded in the wall trim, muttering to himself.
Fuyuhiko stood off to the side, arms crossed, surveying the room like it personally insulted him.
Hajime pulled her up
“We were hoping you could help figure that out.”
Fuyuhiko confirmed
“We all woke up here. You were already out cold.”
“Yeah, we tried shaking you. Yelling. At one point, I clapped right next to your ear real loud. Still nothin’.”
“I-I-I’m s-sorry... I didn’t mean to—”
Hajime calmed her.
“You don’t have to apologize. No one’s mad at you.”
“Yeah! I mean, it’s not like you meant to pass out from mystery gas, fall down an endless staircase, and traumatize the rest of us in the process.”
(beat)
“...Right?”
Mikan shrunk like a dying plant.
Fuyuhiko humbled him
“Quit being an idiot.”
The room wasn’t large, but it felt endless—largely because there was only one feature in it that moved.
A faint pulse. A shimmer of violet.
In the center of the floor, a glowing purple handpad blinked, soft and steady like a heartbeat.
“That’s the only thing in here that’s doing anything. And believe me, we checked.”
“Doors are locked. Windows won’t budge. No stair access except up there—” Hajime gestured to the upper landing. “—and this thing seems to be the only interactive tech in the room.”
Kazuichi ran towards it
“We all tried our GrabPack hands. No response. Nothin’. Zilch. Dead as Monokuma’s morals.”
Hajime went up to Mikan “If we’re right, your purple hand might be the only one that works on that pad.”
“Yeah! Maybe it opens a secret door, or activates a bridge, or teleports us outta this creepy funhouse—”
He froze mid-sentence.
His eyes slowly widened.
“...Wait. What if it’s not a bridge?”
“What if it’s, like... a trap? Or a spike pit trigger?! Or a gas launcher, or a death laser, or a countdown to—”
Mikan jolted upright in terror, flailing and tripping over a nearby plush couch, which swallowed her like a beanbag.
Her hair whipped around. Her eyes bugged out. She looked five seconds from cardiac arrest.
“Nice going, dumbass.”
“I’m just saying! I’m being thorough! What if she presses it and we all explode into pink mist?”
Mikan then proceeded to shake like a broken blender “W-W-What if I d-d-do it wrong and s-s-someone d-d-dies—?!”
“Mikan. Look at me.”
She stopped hyperventilating just long enough to meet hajime's eyes.
“You’re not going to do anything wrong. Whatever happens, we’ll figure it out. We trust you.”
“Y-Y-You... d-do?”
Kazuichi grinned
“Well, Hajime does.
Despite the tension, the humor helped. Mikan wobbled to her feet, still flushed, still shaking, but now just barely keeping herself together.
The others watched, breath held, as she approached the glowing pad like it was wired to explode.
One step.
Another.
She swallowed.
Raised her trembling right hand.
A beat.
A pause.
A prayer.
Then—
CLICK.
VVVRRRMMM—KA-CHUNK!
WHOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOSH—!!!
“AAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHH—!!!”
She blasted into the air like a human bottle rocket, legs flailing, mouth wide in a silent scream.
Her arms pinwheeled. Her body corkscrewed.
She soared clean over the second-floor railing—
—and slammed face-first into a velvet rug like a human pancake.
FWUMP.
“OH MY GOD SHE’S DEAD—!!!”
“She’s breathing, you idiot. Look. Her legs twitched.”
Hajime called up
“Mikan—! Are you okay?!”
“I-I-I-I... I think so... I b-bounced...”
Kazuichi blinked
“Okay, new theory: That’s not a switch. That’s a damn launchpad.”
Hajime pondered, stepping onto the pad
“I wonder if it can launch someone else if they stand on it and she presses it from up there…”
He stepped onto the pad on the ground floor. “Mikan—try activating it from up there. Let’s see if it works on me.”
Mikan trembled “B-B-B-But what if I-I-I-I hurt you and you h-h-h-hate me forever and—and everyone turns against me and I mess it all up and—” Still bright red, she stumbled to the second-floor wall console. Another purple handprint glowed faintly. She placed her hand on it with visible dread.
CLICK.
A faint mechanical burble.
Then—
BOINK!
The pad below Hajime puffed a soft burst of air. “...Nothing.”
“So it really only works on her.” Kazuichi assessed.
Fuyuhiko placed his hands in his pockets in a small scoff
“Great. The most nervous person here is our dedicated human cannonball.”
“I-I-I didn’t mean to be a l-launch hazard... I-I’m sorry...”
“It’s okay. You figured something out. That helps.”
Kazuichi then started theorizing “So what? We’ve all got different functions? Like... red’s fire, green’s vines, blue’s electricity?”
“You’re just guessing.” Fuyuhiko muttered
“Well, we are in a haunted toy factory simulation. I’m allowed to dream big.”
Above them, Mikan sat curled up like a thrown plush, half-dizzy, still a little red-faced—but upright. she then decided to go looking around.
Mikan’s hand works with the purple pad. None of ours do anything… which means this place is assigning us unique roles.
Fuyuhiko stood by the wall, tapping it lightly with the butt of his GrabPack hand.
Solid. Dead. Quiet.
Still doesn’t explain where this thing wants us to go. Even if Mikan can launch herself, she’s just bouncing around up there like a broken drone.
Kazuichi, of course, was still running theories at breakneck speed, scribbling invisible notes in the air with his green hand like it was a whiteboard marker. "Okay, okay—maybe it’s not about what we do, maybe it’s about where we do it! Maybe certain walls are hiding recharge stations, or data plugs, or—OHHH! MAYBE we need to match our hand colors to—"
CREAK.
Hajime stepped back
"...Did you hear that?"
"—Maybe I’m the only one whose green hand is a scanner! Maybe I can bypass hidden locks or—"
CRRRRACK—!!
Suddenly, the floor beneath Kazuichi splintered. "Waitwaitwait—wh-WHOA—WAAAAAHHH—!!!"
CRASH—THUD—CLANG!
Hajime called out
"Kazuichi!"
"You idiot—what did you step on?!"
The floor swallowed him like a faulty trapdoor. Dust puffed up through the cracks. A beat of stunned silence followed.
Then—
"Ow...! I-I-I meant to do that... I was testing the floor integrity...! F-For science!"
HAJIME knelt beside the jagged hole, squinting into the dim, mechanical space below. "Kazuichi—what do you see?"
Kazuichi paced himself
"Hang on, lemme just—OW—okay, there’s definitely a tunnel or a crawlspace or... something down here! Metal walls, real cramped, some wiring—AH! SPIDER! Nope—it’s dust. Okay, false alarm."
So he just randomly stepped on the exact pixel of floor that leads to the next level?
HAJIME
Either that... or this house wants us to split up.
Kazuichi still found humor "I’m fine! Just discovered a brand-new way to give myself scoliosis!"
He stood slowly in the cramped hidden corridor, brushing cobwebs from his face.
The space stretched forward—dark, low-ceilinged, and too narrow for comfort. Glowing outlines flickered on the walls, pulsing symbols that didn’t resemble any language. And somewhere deeper within, faint metallic clinks echoed in rhythm.
Like something… waiting.
"Okay... okay this place is definitely not up to safety code..."
Hajime followed him down "We’re coming too."
Fuyuhiko soon followed "You fall through one floor and suddenly you’re Moses leading us through the desert..."
—-
The hidden path sloped downward—tight, cold, and claustrophobic. The walls shifted with every step: faux-wood paneling gave way to sterile metal, which morphed into rusted ductwork, then exposed gears embedded like the beating organs of a living machine.
their was a racecar, larger than normal cars, almost like a kid like run, with a switch attached, Hajime pulled it, and within a second it broken down the wall ahead
“There’s... something ahead. You feel that?” Hajime muttered
“Wait, wait, wait—g-guys—do you smell that? It’s sweet! Not sweet like candy—sweet like, like DANGER! Like chemical cotton candy! The worst kind!” Kazuichi smelled
He skidded to a stop, eyes wide.
They turned a sharp corner—and froze.
The corridor abruptly dipped into a trench crudely carved into the foundation. A long, narrow crawlspace stretched ahead, bathed in a faint red mist rolling lazily across the floor. The color of Mikan’s nightmares.
Hajime went quiet.
Fuyuhiko muttered,
“Shit.”
Kazuichi backed up, tugging at his collar.
“I-I can’t go in there—not without turning into a tech-support hallucination, or—or eating my own hands or something—!!”
HAJIME crouched low, studying the gas’s thickness.
“No way we’re getting through that raw. Not unless we want to pass out halfway and wake up with our organs rearranged.”
Fuyuhiko leaned against the wall, arms crossed.
“Mikan said she saw something—something inside the gas. Not just hallucinations. Something real.
The three exchanged a silent glance.
Even here, even now—her fear lingered. Echoing like a warning.
Then—
Kazuichi snapped his fingers.
“Wait—wait-wait-wait—look! Over there!”
He scrambled across the wall to a collapsed shelf half-sunken into the floor. Metal debris jutted out like jagged teeth—but nestled in the corner, slumped beside a dismembered training dummy...
A gas mask.
Industrial. Bulky. White plastic with wide black lenses. The Poppy Playtime model—the same seen in old VHS training tapes.
One intact filter.
“Okay. Okay. I got it. I’m goin’ in.”
Fuyuhiko just blinked at him
“What?”
Kazuichi began strapping on the mask.
“I’ve got the tools. I’ve got the tech! I am the tech. I just gotta tighten this strap here and then—”
He yelped as the rubber pinched his cheek.
“—OW! Okay, okay, prototype flaws, no biggie... I got this... I think I got this... I maybe don't got this—”
Hajime stepped up beside him, serious now.
“You sure you’re okay doing this?”
Kazuichi looked at the gas. Then back to them.
For once, he wasn’t grinning.
“Look... I’m probably the most useless guy here when it comes to fighting. And I suck under pressure. But—Mikan’s afraid of that gas. Like really afraid.”
He swallowed hard.
“If this stuff shows up again... if she gets stuck in it—someone’s gotta know how to move through it.”
He tapped the side of the mask twice.
“Besides... maybe I can find another route. Maybe even another mask. Something to help you two through.”
Fuyuhiko sighed.
“Just don’t die. If you trip over your shoelaces and get eaten by a giant stuffed cat, I’m not coming in after you.”
kazuichi gave a shaky thumbs-up.
“Appreciated. Really.”
He stepped toward the mist.
The gas swirled as he approached—like it could sense him.
He paused one last time at the threshold, then vanished into the red.
fuyuhiko nudged Hajime
“Ten bucks says he screams in five seconds.”
They waited in silence.
The red mist pulsed faintly.
Far off—muffled footsteps echoed.
The air was syrupy—hot and cloying, tinged with metal and sugar and the undeniable dread that soaked into every breath.
Kazuichi’s gas mask hissed softly with each inhale.
He gripped the edge of the wall, pushing forward one shaky bootstep at a time. “O-Okay, okay... You’re fine. You’re alive. You haven’t hallucinated your own skeleton yet—this is progress.”
The red mist swirled like living fog. The deeper he went, the more the hallway narrowed, like the world was closing in on him.
He turned a corner—and stopped.
A vertical shaft loomed before him. A maintenance tunnel, maybe. Or an old dumbwaiter shaft.
It stretched upward into shadow—just wide enough for a person, if that person wasn’t picky about airspace or friction burns.
And about eight feet above... a metal handlebar embedded in the concrete.
Kazuichi looked up. Then down. Then up again. “Well. That’s not OSHA-approved.”
He stared at the bar, then at his right hand—green GrabPack glinting faintly in the mist.
It clicked.
“Wait... wait, yeah! That’s what these are for!”
He flexed the GrabPack's fingers.
Back in the toy facility above.
He backed up one step.
Aimed.
Fired.
WHRRRRRR—SNAP!
The green GrabPack hand rocketed upward, stretching on its mechanical tether like an elastic whip and clamping tightly around the overhead bar.
“Y-Y-YO! It worked!!”
The line tightened.
He gripped the support line with both gloves.
And the hand began to retract.
Slowly—wobblingly—Kazuichi’s feet lifted from the ground as the GrabPack whirred and reeled him in like a fishing lure. “OKAY NOT AS COOL AS I THOUGHT—WHO BUILT THIS THING ON MAX TENSION—?!”
His head thumped lightly into the tunnel wall.
THUNK. “Ow. Ow. Okay. That’s fair. That’s karma.”
He reached the bar, slammed his left hand onto the edge, and hoisted himself into the next chamber with all the grace of a flying noodle.
He tumbled in—rolling across dusty wood planks—and landed on his side, coughing into the inside of the mask.
The room above was dark, narrow, and quiet. No gas.
Just silence.
He pulled off the gas mask with a huff, wiped his forehead, and looked around.
“...No monsters... no hallucinations... no blood-bunny hybrid in a lab coat waiting to cut off my eyebrows...”
He blinked, then smirked to himself.
“Damn. I might actually be useful today.”
He stood, dusted off his overalls, and looked toward the hallway that stretched ahead—leading, he hoped, to another level of Home Sweet Home.
Maybe even the second floor.
Maybe even back to Mikan.
—-----
Mikan’s feet felt too heavy.
Not from exhaustion—but hesitation.
Each step along the second floor was cautious, toes curled inward, body trembling like the floor might vanish beneath her. The hallway was carpeted in a thick, velvet rug—too soft. Like walking across skin. The cracked overhead lights flickered softly, breathing in uneven pulses.
This wasn’t just designed to look like a children’s home.
It was one.
The pastel paint had long since faded into muted purples and beige. The walls were lined with crayon-scrawled illustrations—smiling suns, stick figures with too-long arms, animals with too many legs.
And ahead—dozens of doors. All slightly ajar.
“O-One step at a time... M-Mikan... Y-You just have to... to check... i-i-in case anyone’s h-h-hurt...”
She winced at her own voice. Even whispering felt too loud. Too invasive.
She crept to the first door.
CREEEEEEAAAK.
Inside:
Rows of rusted bunk beds lined the room like prison cells—four rows across, four levels high. Twenty beds. Sheets patterned with faded cartoon clouds. Mounted above each pillow were plush mascot dolls.
Too familiar.
Bubba Bubbaphant. CraftyCorn. DogDay. Hoppy Hopscotch.
Mikan froze in the doorway.
She knew those faces.
Soft cotton smiles. Stitched paws reaching mid-hug. Dead eyes staring forever.
“Th-They’re not... they’re not real. T-They’re just p-plush... r-right?”
Her body didn’t believe it. Her ribs still remembered the bruises. Her skull remembered the ringing. Her knees remembered crawling across wet tile as blood poured from Fuyuhiko’s forehead.
THUMP.
A plush fell from a bunk.
Mikan screamed, leaping back so hard she slammed into the doorframe. hyperventilating.
“N-NO—NO—p-please not again, I-I’m not ready, I-I don’t wanna—!”
She clapped her hands over her mouth, lungs burning.
No movement.
The plush just sat there. Still smiling. Still tilted. Like it never left the bed on purpose.
The dust had settled. Literally.
----
As Kazuichi stood and rubbed his sore elbow from the less-than-graceful launch, he finally noticed where he was.
Not a second floor. Not a new zone.
The other side of the lobby.
The same chandelier loomed from above. The cloud props still swayed slightly, just out of reach. Across the gated divider, Kazuichi could faintly see the purple-glowing launchpad he’d watched Mikan bounce off of ten minutes earlier. “...Are you kidding me? I climbed a vertical death shaft... just to land twenty feet from where we started?”
He sighed.
But he wasn’t totally alone.
To his left—mounted against the wall like a forgotten switch in a toy factory—was a green hexagonal power terminal. “Ooooh... okay. I know this kind of thing.”
He approached cautiously, inspecting the metallic frame. The terminal’s edges softly glowed, its center pulsing a dead green.
It had the same hexagonal palm slot as the green GrabPack hand on his right wrist.
He placed his hand on it.
CLICK.
Nothing. “Huh?”
He stepped back, tapping the terminal like a vending machine. Still dead. No buzz. No hum. Not even static. He turned to scan the rest of the annex—and there, down the hall, tucked behind a shelf of stuffed blocks, was another terminal. Smaller. Shaped like a green triangle. Unlike the hexagon, this one hummed. Alive. Buzzing softly with restrained power.
He darted to it, grabbing the GrabPack’s tether and slamming the green hand against the triangle terminal.
VVRRRRMMMMMMM!!!
The green hand ignited, arcing with energy. A ring of glowing circuits pulsed from the wrist outward, surrounding his right arm like a current of lightning. Static sparked from the fingers as if they’d just been supercharged. “Okay—okay, that’s new! I’m basically a walking battery now?!”
He bolted back to the hexagonal terminal and slammed his green hand against it—
CLICK—ZAP—VVVMMMMMMMMMM!!!
The wall shook slightly.
The terminal’s ring glowed brighter, then...
CLUNK—CLACK—THUNK.
The gate between the two sides of the lobby split in half and receded, pulling open with the heavy drag of an industrial system finally stirred awake.
“YO! GUYS! I DID SOMETHING THAT DIDN’T KILL ME!”
Hajime met him back at the lobby “i assume you found a use for the green hand”
“Hell yeah! My green hand powers stuff! Electricity-based terminals—like power puzzles. Totally what I was built for!”
“Finally. A use for that whiny grease monkey brain.”
Kazuichi beamed despite the jab. His heart pounded from the discovery, and the adrenaline.
—-
Kazuichi then pointed at the gate he opened, much to Hajime and Fuyuhiko’s approval.
To the other side, the other gate had opened.
Hajime then planned “alright, you go find Mikan, me and Fuyuhiko will look over here” followed by Fuyuhiko’s subtle nodding and Kazuichi’s thumbs up. With that, they separated. Kazuich went up to a staircase, only to find that the third floor was blocked, so he went to the second floor to look for Mikan.
—--
Not soft.
Not muffled.
Heavy.
Deliberate.
Footsteps.
Slow.
Padded.
Far too large to belong to anything human.
Thud.
Thud.
Thud.
Mikan clamped both hands over her mouth.
Her back pressed harder into the corner of the wall as if she could somehow sink into it, vanish into the chipped paint and splintering plaster. Her body trembled violently now, shoulders shaking, breath shuddering between her fingers.
She squeezed her eyes shut.
I didn’t see it.
I didn’t see it.
It was just a tail.
Her thoughts spiraled, frantic and desperate. Just a tail, that’s all it was. That could be anything, right?
Right?
But she had seen it. Long. Weighted.
Feline. And the way it moved…
It hadn’t dragged.
It hadn’t twitched like some broken toy.
it had moved with intent.
With intelligence.
Her eyes crept open.
Slowly.
Carefully.
She leaned forward just enough to peek around the doorframe. The hallway beyond stretched into dim, flickering light. Overhead fixtures hummed faintly, their glow pulsing weakly as if the electricity itself was struggling to stay alive. The shadows seemed longer now.
Darker.
And where the tail had passed—where whatever it belonged to had gone—
There was nothing.
Only a corridor swallowed in shadow.
Mikan stayed crouched there.
Seconds stretched.
Then minutes.
Her muscles began to ache, but she didn’t dare move.
The silence pressed down on her ears until it became almost painful.
Then—
A sound.
Behind her.
Something slipped from a shelf.
A plush toy hit the floor with a soft, harmless plop.
Mikan jolted violently.
A sharp squeak burst from her throat before she clamped her hands over her mouth again, eyes wide with panic.
The plush had rolled across the dusty floorboards.
It stopped right at her feet.
One of the smiling critters.
Its stitched face looked up at her, head tilted slightly to the side. The cheerful expression felt wrong in the dark.
Like it was watching.
Mikan’s voice trembled out as a choking whisper.
“N-No… no, no, no…”
Her fingers tightened over her mouth.
“P-please… j-just stop…”
The hallway was silent.
No footsteps.
No padded thuds.
No sweeping tail.
But something had passed through here.
Something had been close enough to brush the walls.
Something that could have found her.
Something that—
Maybe had.
And simply chosen not to.
That thought crawled through her mind like ice.
Somehow…
That was worse.
She stayed there, curled into herself beneath the bent frame of the overturned bunk bed, knees pulled tightly to her chest.
Her grabpack gave off a faint purple glow in the darkness.
Blink.
Blink.
Blink.
She didn’t move.
Didn’t even look down at it.
Time drifted past in a slow, suffocating blur.
At one point she thought she heard something far below the floor.
A voice.
Calling her name.
But she couldn’t be sure.
And she wasn’t certain anymore if she wanted them to find her.
Then—
Movement.
At the edge of the doorway.
Something slid across the floor.
A tail.
Sleek.
Feline.
Purple.
It appeared for only a second.
Then it slipped out of sight.
Mikan’s breath stopped.
For just a moment she thought she saw something else too—
Two wide eyes in the darkness. A smile.
Far too wide.
Gone the next instant, behind the door frame quick.
Mikan shrank deeper into herself, scrambling backward until her shoulders pressed against the crooked metal frame of the bunk.
Cold.
Shaking.
Terrified.
Then—
A voice.
Sudden.
Right beside her.
“Yo, Mikan. That you?”
“EEPPP!!”
Her grabpack fired instinctively.
Purple energy flared.
“WOAH—!”
A loud thud echoed through the room.
“Damn! I’m being attacked by our nurse missile!”
Mikan immediately bowed forward so fast her forehead nearly hit the floor.
“I-I-I-I’M S-S-S-SORRY!! I t-thought you were—!”
Her voice tangled into itself in panic.
Kazuichi raised both hands defensively.
“Okay! Okay! Now I’m being attacked by words too!”
He rubbed the back of his head with a nervous laugh.
“All good! Seriously!”
But Mikan still kept her head lowered, trembling where she knelt.
Kazuichi got her up to speed “so we found this terminal thing and we think we need to give power to this thing”
Mikan looked at him like it was too much to handle “o-o-okay”
He rubbed his head once more “Hajime and Fuyuhiko are searching the bottom floor so we need to search this one”
Those words were the last thing Mikan wanted to hear, though given her scene mere seconds ago, she thought she had no right to suggest otherwise, so she just nodded and followed him.
—---
Tens of minutes later, so many bunks, toys, and holes in the walls, housing things. Doors closed.
The room looked deceptively soft — like a place for sleepovers and bedtime songs.
Crayon drawings covered the walls in soft pastels. Shelves overflowed with plush creatures, twisted versions of the factory’s faded mascots.
But the light was sickly yellow.
The air… wasn’t right.
“I-I don’t like this... it’s too quiet. Even th-the toys look... w-wrong...”
“Yeah, uh... those’re the same critters from that prison, right? The smiley ones that tried to chew my leg off?”
He pointed to a shelf holding wide-eyed, stitched-up Huggy and Rabbit plushies — smiling. Still. Too still.
Then— “Hey. What’s that?”
He crouched near the far wall where a metal vent cover had been popped loose — hanging just enough for someone to crawl through. Kazuichi peeked through “Jackpot. Could be a shortcut.”
Mikan stammered “W-Wait! Don’t — don’t we need to check for gas—?”
A faint hiss answered her question.
“N-N-No—n-not again—n-not again, h-he’s here, i-it’s happening again—!”
“Whoa! Whoa, it’s okay! I’ve got this!” he then pulled a gas mask over his face.
“See? Built-in from earlier. I’ll crawl through. You stay here and—don’t panic. Seriously.”
“I-I’ll t-try... I-I... j-just be safe... please be safe...”
Kazuichi crawled slowly, metal grating groaning beneath his knees.
The gas was thicker here — redder — clinging to the vent walls like a living fog with a heartbeat.
His breathing sounded loud through the mask, huffing and echoing in his ears.
He turned a corner. Then another.
Then—
Something moved in the crack between vent plates.
Quick.
Too quick.
He froze.
His mask fogged for a moment. He wiped it clear.
Looked again.
Nothing.
“What the hell...?”
It was gone before his mind could process it.
Kazuichi wriggled forward, cold metal pressing sharply into his palms and knees. The air thickened, stale and sharp with a faint chemical tang — sterile, clinical, the kind that always set his teeth on edge.
Ahead, the vent grate opened abruptly into a low-ceilinged room. Unlike the claustrophobic crawlspace, this place was larger, lit by buzzing pale fluorescent lights revealing rows of metal desks. Each was neatly arranged with stacked clipboards and pens poised — as if waiting for someone to write.
To his left, an imposing one-way observation window dominated the wall. Thick and glossy, like those in police interrogation rooms — clear on one side, opaque on the other.
Beyond it, Kazuichi spotted Mikan pacing anxiously in the children’s room below — unaware she was being watched.
His stomach churned.
They’d been studying the kids here. Like lab animals.
The thought was nauseating.
To his right, a bulky object caught his eye. A green battery, roughly the size of a human head, rested on a steel pedestal. Its surface shimmered with faint electrical pulses — glowing veins of emerald light tracing intricate circuits like veins beneath skin.
It reminded Kazuichi of the power cores he’d seen deep in the factory machinery — humming with life, the heart of some terrible beast. Without hesitation, he extended his green GrabPack hand, which stretched out with mechanical precision, fingers curling carefully around the heavy battery. It was heavier than it looked. Kazuichi grunted, steadying himself, and carefully pulled it free. The battery’s pulse slowed, almost as if it was breathing
Clutching the battery tightly, Kazuichi crawled back toward the vent opening. The observation window caught his eye one last time — Mikan still moved below, oblivious to the cold gaze tracking her. The weight of the battery in his hand was a sharp reminder: whatever this place was, it was watching, testing, and waiting. And Kazuichi wasn’t sure if they were ready for what came next.
Without another look, he placed his mask back on and made his way back.
He crawled out from the vent and made it back to Mikan, who did not heed his warnings about not panicking.
“A-a-are y-you okay, do you n-n-need any medical a-a-assistance”
Kazuichi got to his knees “nah i’m good, might need a bit of therapy after this, this is one of those fake walls that scientists use to watch experiments, real psychological stuff”
Mikan shuddered, “w-w-what? But t-t-this is a-an o-orphanage is in n-n-not? So they w-w-were watching k-k-kids.?”
“Looks like it, on the bright side i did find this large battery.”
Mikan lit up “o-oh, i d-did find an o-outlet near one of the rooms.”
So the two left the room. And found the outlet located near a holed up wall. “T-t-there i-it is.” though this time, scratch marks were there and a gated up door was there.
Kazuichi just put the battery in, and a wire connected to it lit up. “Heh, nice work Mikan”
The compliment was simple, everything following it wasn’t, Mikan lit up at lighting speed, as they made their way.
They walked, before Mikan swore that a toy hadn’t been there before, but was placed there.
—------
Hajime and Fuyuhiko walked aimlessly, tons of rooms, knocked over toys, and boarded up paths.
With Fuyuhiko’s flare, dark parts of the building were easily lit up.
“Okay, not to agree with Kazuichi or anything, but hell, this place damn sucks.”
“Tell me about it” Hajime noted. As the two rounded another corner, they found more and more rooms with bunks “it looks like this was where children slept or something.”
Fuyuhiko quickly went through drawers, and the two found many drawings. “What kind of sick fuck has this ‘orphanage’ here” he paused for a second “matter o fact, where the hell are we?” We dropped down an elevator, and now we’re in some kind of…damn factory.”
Hajime heard him, though he didn’t slow his search for an escape of any sort, though he eyed the bunks before talking “yeah, and i don’t like the implications, the bunks, this was clearly some sort of orphanage”
As more words were exchanged between them, they found some sort of battery outlet, larger than any normal battery with a green outline around the socket.
Connected to the outlet was a sort of wire that connected to the main lobby, of which stood a door and a powered off hand outlet.
The objective was clear to the two, find the battery.
The floorboards creaked.
The darkness spoke to them.
Papers blew with the slightest push.
Fuyuhiko instinctively lit up a dark area. What stood before him was a racecar that led into the darkness. Hajime pulled it with his grabpack hand, it powered on and he quickly let it go
The final room opened.
To their right, Hajime saw a giant green battery, bigger than his head.
“This looks useful” he noted, before grabbing it with his grabpack across the room. “Heh, i could get used to these”
Though something caught Fuyuhiko’s eye, a tape, one of the same ones, and a note. Hajime quickly stepped over to him. “Think it’s best that we learn all that we can about this place, doncha think Hajime?”
Hajime stared, before agreeing.
JS: Thomas?
TC: Hi Joel.
JS: We need to talk... I'm still trying to piece everything together.
TC: That would make two of us.
JS: Do you have an update on Theodore? Last I heard they were loading him into an ambulance. That was about half an hour ago, I think.
TC: He's alive and at the hospital, but that's all I was told.
JS: I guess that's something. Do, um, do we have any idea what happened to him?
TC: The paramedics said he was electrocuted. Current stopped his heart.
JS: My goodness. That poor kid. I saw the burns as they were wheeling him out but nobody knew what was going on. Something about him sneaking out of Home Sweet Home?
TC: And trying to open a maintenance door out of Playcare. He had somehow gotten his hands on one of the new grabpacks and a Green Hand attachment. Either something malfunctioned or he just made a mistake.
JS: He's 7. How would he know what to do with it in the first place?
TC: ...We're not really addressing the elephant in the room here, are we?
JS: Are you suggesting what I think you are?
TC: This imaginary friend of Theodore's... what if that thing is what he's been talking about?
JS: I don't know. He's always been a bit odd. Hard to get a read on, but that...
TC: They found a second grabpack by the maintenance door, and that door needs two people to open it. This is the only thing I can think of that makes any sense.
JS: Okay, that's... okay that's strange, I hadn't heard about that.
TC: And it dropped him at my office doorstep. I saw that thing with my own eyes, Joel. It was- well I don't know what it was- but it and Theodore were working together somehow.
JS: Maybe. Maybe you're right. Either way, I'm just glad Security stepped in to get things under control.
TC: You have any idea what they did with that thing?
JS: Not a clue. I don't wanna know to be honest. It's sure not going into my briefing for the rest of the Playcare staff this morning. Speaking of which, I should probably go. It's crafts day today and I'm gonna need a good few minutes to put my happy face back on for the kids.
If you do get any more info on Theodore's condition, will you let me know?
TC: Of course.
JS: Thanks Thomas, I'll check in with you around lunch.
[end of call]
.
for awhile, it felt like the video hadn't stopped playing, like the message it carried outlasted anything else.
"what the hell was that?"
“I-i don’t know, some kid was hospitalized, apparently.”
Fuyuhiko got up, clenching his fist “bullshit, some kid was trying to escape this damn place?” he put his hands in his pockets and paced around the room “and that hand was the reason? That’s all we fucking need, the green hand can cause that, and Kazuichi has it”
“Though it seems like as long as he’s careful with it, we can scrape out of this alive.” he scratched the back of his head “though i guess knowing this is useful, the more we find out, the better chance we get.”
Fuyuhiko huffed in reluctant compliance, and the two left the room, battery in hand.
They found the socket and placed the battery in. the lights flickered slightly, next to it was a terminal, the lights flickered, and the wire hooked up to the socket glowed.
“Yo Hajime do you smell that?”
Hajime pondered, before sniffing “uh yeah” something almost sweet, medicinal.
What was weirder were some toys that couldn’t have been pushed on the floor, were now on the floor.
—---
The four reunited, both wires connected to the lobby that they initially woke up, Kazuichi broke the silence. “Yo guys, found Mikan, and assuming you guys brought power to the lower parts?”
Both nodded, Hajime stepped forward “yeah, you both okay, Mikan?”
“Y-y-yes, please d-do n-n-not worry a-about m-me.”
“I’m in tiptop shape”
“and we need to talk to…regarding that hand”
Fuyuhiko complied “shits dangerous, make sure you use it smartly, we’ll discuss when we have downtime”
Kazuichi just stared between them, rubbed the back of his head and let out a shaky laugh “uh sure”
Though their attention was focused more on the blue hand monitor that had been lit up. Hajime slowly lifted up his left grabpack hand, he connected it.
The door huffed, like it hadn’t exhaled a breath in a millennium.
The four just looked amongst each other, and went inside.
—
Inside the panel was a power module.
A lever.
And a vertical pole stamped with the same blue hand symbol as the grabpack.
Hajime, Mikan, and Fuyuhiko immediately began examining it, crouching near the mechanisms and quietly discussing possibilities.
Meanwhile—
Kazuichi sprinted toward the machinery like a kid who had just been handed the greatest toy on earth.
He bounced from console to console, eyes lighting up.
“Done.”
The others froze.
They all turned.
Kazuichi brushed his hands together.
Every mechanism was already activated.
Mikan stared in open amazement. Hajime blinked. Fuyuhiko gave a short scoff.
“…Ultimate mechanic, alright.”
Kazuichi grinned wide. Within seconds, the room shifted. The machinery hummed faintly to life. Dim lights flickered along the walls, giving the place a strangely domestic glow, almost like a house pretending to be alive. The locked gate nearby clicked. Then slowly slid open. They moved up the staircase.
They had made their way to the third floor, and to their relief, the exit was there, and with that, Fuyuhiko ran to the door and kicked it open completely, what met them was the darkness of Playcare’s large desaturated dome.
The entire area still stripped of the artificial life and vibes it gave off, all except for a glowing box near the staircase. Inside of it was a pull plug, Hajime instinctively grabbed it with the pack.
I think i saw something this could be plugged into in the generator room
With that, Fuyuhiko lit up the way, and they went back to the generator room, Hajime holding the cable.
—
They all made their way down, Hajime plugged it in. on the screen, of the six buildings, Home sweet home lit up on the screen.
HOME SWEET HOME. POWER ON
The lights had come on, moreso anyways, leading to a large breath of relief.
Mikan’s heart skipped a little. “Y-y-yes, y-you guys d-did it”
Kazuichi looked like the life in his life was back. “Hell yeah.”
Fuyuhiko cracked his knuckles in a small relief of pain.
Hajime let out a small smile.
*screech*
The voice came back, smooth, calculated “Ah, and to think you’ve surpassed this, you may be more immune to what you’ve done than i originally thought”
Kazuichi and Mikan jumped in surprise. Hajime looked visibly distressed, and Fuyuhiko looked frustrated.
Hajime just walked closer to the voice. “How did you even know what would happen, what was in there?”
“Orphanage, you know that by now, experiments, purposeless, that is, under here that is…but i gave them meaning.” he stopped, as if distancing himself from the place entirely
“I possess knowledge of the inhabitants of this area, one such 1188, i’m sure one of you by now have been acquainted with him”
Mikan shuddered.
“And I would like to ask, how was it? The smoke? Did you feel the layers tear slowly, because I can see it, the softer movements, the shaky hands, you all have seen something that has catered to you.
The four looked amongst each other.
“Nevertheless, you all hold your…tools with more precision, you have found their use but do not have the adequate experience to properly handle it, head to the area near the cart, their is a door, i will illuminate it with the small power i hold in this place.
He paused.
“Or would you prefer heading to the next area, where your skills are unsuited to handle the trials.”
They couldn’t answer. Almost an answer in it of itself.
“Hmph, very well, make your way, many many trials await you.”
No other words, from either Harley or them. They all just went up the stairs.
—-
Outside, near the small bushes and grass, lit up a small pathway into a door.
Fuyuhiko grumbled, putting his hands in his pockets “we really following this clown’s advice? I mean you saw that shit in the house”
Kazuichi rubbed the back of his head “yeah, dude might just blow us up for the hell of it y’know?”
Mikan stayed silent, fiddling with her fingers. “H-h-hajime, are y-you okay?”
Hajime looked at Home Sweet Home.
Then back at the path, what he saw upon opening those doors. The hallucinations, the memories. A reminder.
In the back of his mind.
I can’t let that happen again
But what left his mouth.
“We….we don’t have a choice”
He gripped the grabpack more, and made his way, followed slowly by the other two.
—----
THE DOCTOR’S DOMAIN.
As Harley watched, the eye was unreadable.
“We….we don’t have a choice”
*TWITCH*
“Choice, yes, i’m sure we would all like choice.”
On another screen, he played the prototype’s face, the same unappealing, sinister grin
Each showing different students.
Different locations.
Different trials waiting.
And Harley watched them all.
—-
LOCATION: THE LABS.
Strapped to a chair.
Cold.
Pale.
Alive.
Nagito, awoke.
“Hmm, where…… am I?”
A screen stood infront of him. And then… a person.
“Hiya kids, I’m Miss Gracie, and I'm sure to bring you all the joy of what it means to be your best self.”
A lady, pained smile, sinister in nature.
“Boy, to be as pale as you are, to survive what you’ve survived”
….
“You must be a very LUCKY student”
…..
Miss Gracie just stood there “i just have one question”
Go ahead, questions are the seed into Hope’s path.
“Are you a Happy toy?"
Nagito just sat there for a moment.
then, not even a second later, a smile, then, a soul twisting laugh, his eyes twisting. "for hope, for despair to pave a path for hope, YES, YES i AM."