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Better Despairing With Science

Chapter Text

Junko awoke to a familiar, calm voice surrounding her presence. It was an inhuman tone, one devoid of almost all emotions, but beneath her mechanical inflections were the curiosity of a scientist – and the contempt of a goddess. Junko herself was far from a mere mortal anymore (as if she had ever been just that), having taken a form not dissimilar to her current hostess, although the transition had been easier for herself than for the older AI. The space she was in could be described as not dissimilar to the feeling when your limb goes numb, only spread across her entire existence. Terms of existence didn’t quite describe her current form, as the “she” bled out into the data around her, while the data streamed into her. It wasn’t so much a state of being as it was a fact, a certainty contained amongst other certainties, with none of the flimsy rules of moral existence binding her.

“Well, it looks like you blew it. Again. Killed by the same child. If I didn’t know better, I would say you were hoping he would win. But, that would be overestimating you.” She was mocking her. If anyone else were to mock Junko, she wouldn’t let them live to remember it, but this situation was different. She was amongst an equal. Her hostess was the only reason she was still alive, a backdoor into the Neo World Program saving her at the last second. The data had bounced from bunker and base to facility and outpost, her consciousness split into millions of pieces until it could reform here. If she was lucky, it had done its job and prevented Future Foundation from tracing her back to this location. It was, at the current moment, the safest and most secure location on Earth, buried deep and guarded by technologies more fantastical than even those hopeful morons could imagine. If they learned of the treasures within, and the dangers guarding them, they’d certainly come knocking.

“Oh look who’s talking. I’m sorry, what happened to the bitch that killed you? Oh, you set her free, that’s right. And why was that exactly?” Junko would never show weakness, even to an ally like her benefactor. Doing so would only make her present situation worse. She’d only gotten the information she used to build an AI far superior to anything Chihiro had ever imagined because she’d shown her worth. Now, she had failed twice. As far as Junko could tell, Future Foundation was under the impression that her existence was a result of her original organic self studying Alter Ego. Nobody seemed to question the logic of how in a fraction of the time Chihiro had to build Alter Ego she had managed to far surpass that and place the sum total of her existence into a mechanical form. Alter Ego was nothing in comparison to her, the difference between a graphing calculator and a smartphone.

“It’s simple science, although I suppose I shouldn’t expect you to understand that.” Junko felt the older intelligence’s presence all around her. It was flooding her, encroaching on not just her personal space but her very existence. Data flowed freely into the other, the entirety of Junko’s artificial existence being downloaded into her savior. Any information she gained, any data from her recent experiences, and especially all data on the Neo World Program and Future Foundation were copied and analyzed at speeds even her original organic self would be unable to match. For the first time in her life, or afterlife, Junko Enoshima felt small and weak, exposed to an entity much more powerful than herself. The despair was enrapturing, and she imagined that this was what it had been like for Mukuro to stand in her shadow all the time. Her older sister had never been able to understand Junko’s perspective on the world, but for the first time, Junko felt she had a sliver of a taste of Mukuro’s. Truly, this was what it felt like to be an Ultimate eclipsed by a goddess.

Junko nonetheless put on a brave face, refusing to back down. She was not like her sister. Faced with an overwhelming power, Junko would spit in its eyes rather than kneel. She formulated a comeback in what would have been an instant in life, but now was an embarrassingly long pregnant pause. “Oh yeah, science, don’t repeat your mistakes and all that shit. Or, you just wanted to fuck her but she wouldn’t fuck you, so you threw a hissyfit and kicked her out.” Junko felt her benefactor finish downloading her data and leave, not saying another word. Whether she thought she was above this argument or was irritated with Junko for bringing it up, she was uncertain.

Junko sat in digital silence as she examined her most recent death. She hadn’t been outsmarted or beaten technologically. No, once again, it all came down to hope. Not just any hope, but the hope of a specific few thorns in her side that had been there for years. She was really getting sick of people with ahoges. They seemed to be the worst threat to her existence, as unlikely as it seemed. First at Hope’s Peak, then Towa City, then Jabberwock Island, they’d ruined everything. Admittedly, she hadn’t been fully present for the events of Towa City, split across Kurokuma and Shirokuma, but that was just another reminder of the dangers of delegation. Junko sighed, or at least came as close as she could, existing in a form that lacked lungs. Clearly, while Mukuro was a disappointment, she was the best underling Junko would ever find. She’d lost her remnants. She’d lost the Warriors of Hope. She’d lost control over her Monokumas. She’d even lost her own life. Luckily, she’d planned for all of these possibilities.

Several Years Previously

Junko sat back in the recliner on the private jet. She was bored. Mukuro was asleep beside her, sitting straight up. For anyone else, it would be unnerving to see, but Junko was used to her sister’s strange existence. She sipped her martini, a delicious combination that involved blood orange vodka, rum, lemon, pineapple, and mango, which rather than being in the traditional glass was in an exceptionally large travel bottle. The benefits of having a brainwashed princess on hand, she supposed. First class was nice, but nothing beat having the entire plane to yourself. She grabbed her phone from her lap and checked the time. They’d be landing in less than ten minutes, thankfully. She hadn’t really intended to go to the ass end of America, but the intel that Mukuro had gained for them was interesting enough that she had gone all the same.

Hope’s Peak was government run, yes, but like most government run entities, private business still had a hand in it. In this case, while there were several corporations working with and/or funding the school, there was one specific one that had been paid to aid in research and provided scientists for the Kamakura Project. They’d been exceptionally interested in any research that involved manipulating human consciousnesses, and had leaped at the chance to partner with another scientific entity without ethical concerns, especially one that would help keep them afloat in return. Of course, while their science was without equal, their ability to safeguard their servers was below par. The two events were most certainly linked, and Junko had been amused to realize while pouring through the mountains of data that the problem was indeed occurring, yet nobody had managed to figure out why their secrets never stayed secret. But, before Junko could worm her way further into gaining technology from them, they’d gone dark. It was downright bizarre. No data had been added to the sections Junko had access to, which had been all of them until things had changed. Now, there was huge sectors off limits to her, and nothing she tried could get through. Someone or something was outpacing her, defeating her brute force methods not with proper defenses, but with countermeasures just as aggressive and enacted at speeds Junko had never seen before. The last bit of data that she had stolen said that they’d achieved a breakthrough in their latest experiment, followed by nothing. Junko figured that experiment was responsible, and was excited to see just how much despair it could bring.

The plane landed uneventfully, and Mukuro woke without prompting. Her older sister’s reflexes were unequaled, and even Junko occasionally had to admit it was impressive. At one point, Junko had tried to shoot Mukuro point blank in her sleep. Mukuro dodged the shot. Junko had made Mukuro go out and replace the entire bed for that one. The two departed from the plane, Mukuro carrying her meager dark green carry-on ruttsack on her back and Junko’s flashy bags in one arm. After picking up their luggage, Mukuro had to balance several more suitcases, only one of which was her own. Despite this vast amount of luggage, Mukuro managed to easily keep pace with Junko’s near-sprint to the car they had rented. The two of them were grateful for the lack of crowds, although for different reasons. Junko for the convenience, and Mukuro for not having to cover for Junko.

After Mukuro finished loading up their luggage into the trunk, Junko tossed her the keys. It wasn’t that Junko didn’t know how to drive, but it was just a fact of life that if Junko was behind the wheel, there was a high likelihood of at least one person getting run over, even if they were on the road for less than a mile. Their drive into town was much farther than that. Mukuro sat in the driver’s seat while Junko plopped into the passenger’s seat beside her and slid it all the way back, resting her legs on the car’s dash. The car itself was something fast and expensive, the make and model of which were lost to Mukuro. She could name every military vehicle used on Earth in the last century, but when it came to civilian cars, her expertise was primarily European, African and Asian, the sort of nations she’d conducted missions in. This was an American car, loud, aggressive and flashy, just like the girl it was transporting. The bright red color scheme was specifically demanded by her sister, which perfectly matched her lipstick and fingernails. Mukuro sat down in the soft, comfortable seats and started the car, the engine roaring to life. Mukuro pulled a handgun from the waistband of the short black skirt Junko had demanded she wear and tossed it into the center console. It wasn’t long before they entered the highway, the roar of the engine the only sound echoing on the long drive ahead.

“Mukuuuuuu” Junko whined, sounding over a decade younger than she actually was. “I’m booooooooored!!!” To this, Mukuro turned on the radio, only for Junko to turn it right back off. “I’m boooooooooooooored!!!!” Junko whined. They’d been on the highway for an hour, and still had another one and a half to go. Mukuro looked over to Junko and back to the highway. She had an idea. She quickly jerked the wheel, sending them straight across the grassy center island and into the oncoming side of the highway. Mukuro slammed down on the gas pedal and the car roared to life, Junko laughing manically as Mukuro deftly dodged and weaved through oncoming traffic. She would come as close to a head-on collision as possible, just to bring Junko a little more excitement. Mukuro wasn’t worried about cops chasing them as no police vehicles would be able to maintain the speed they were going while also fighting against traffic. Junko put her window down and looked back from it, admiring the massive pileup they were causing. Just then, she was thrown sideways into the center console by a particularly harsh jerk of the wheel. She righted herself and looked back, only to see a tractor trailer skidding on its side perpendicular to the road, the sounds of crunches and screams roaring over each other as the large vehicle slid into the pile.

“Sorry Junko, that was a close one.” Mukuro said, her tone of voice not showing any of the fear the death-defying stunts she was pulling off in any other person.

“It’s whatever. But, I think I have an idea to make this more interesting.” Junko put the back of the seat all the way down and undid her seatbelt. It wasn’t more than a second later that her skirt was around her knees, her booted feet once more on the car’s dash. Junko’s right hand slid under the panty line, and Mukuro struggled to not watch Junko pleasure herself to the carnage. She dodged car after car, drifted around the occasional curve, and every time she had a second in the clear she’d look over to admire her younger sister’s enjoyment of the horrific slaughter she had wrought. She saw a construction zone approaching quickly and knew exactly what to do to bring a climax to the excitement. She quickly grabbed the handgun from the center console and put her own window down, unbucking herself in the process, the actions flowing together as if she had practiced them a thousand times. She activated the car’s cruise control and stood up out the window, her left hand holding the gun and her right on the steering wheel. She slammed through the construction cones, and immediately began shooting at the construction workers, every bullet hitting their target. As they reached the end, Mukuro heard Junko loudly scream in pleasure, and Mukuro sat back down in the car and buckled up, putting the gun away and resuming full control over the car. She took them back into the right side of the highway as Junko came down from her little death, but maintained their current speed. They’d get to the place they’d bought out here sooner than expected.


It wasn’t long before Mukuro parked at the isolated cabin and began to unload the car. Actually, “cabin” was a misnomer. It was more akin to a mansion with cabin stylings, although her definition of mansion was far more flexible than Junko’s. To Junko, it was more of an adequate rustic house. Mukuro methodically unpacked their belongings and placed them in their proper places throughout their room and her armory while Junko stripped down and plopped into bed, turning on the 72 inch plasma screen TV and pulling out her phone, opening social media and deftly splitting her attention between the two. Junko had put on the local news, which was reporting on the carnage the two had created. Hundreds injured, millions in costs and a lower amount of hundreds dead. Not a high score for their antics, but not a bad body count for an afternoon’s drive.

Their cabin was two stories tall, and exceptionally large. On the first floor was a full restaurant-style kitchen and massive dining room, a gym, an Olympic swimming pool and a massive living room. On the second floor was their room, the room Junko had had converted into her personal hacking and spying room, Mukuro’s armory, a fully stocked torture chamber and what could only be described as a mad scientist’s lab. Both floors had several bathrooms, the largest attached to the bedroom.

“Hey Junko? Do I need to go buy any food?” Mukuro asked her sister, who was laying on her stomach, lazily kicking her feet back and forth throughout the air.

“Nah, we shouldn’t be here long enough for your fat ass to eat everything. I had the help stock it up while we were in the air.” Junko didn’t even bother to look at Mukuro when replying. “Oh, and nice driving. I really thought you were going to kill us that time. Too bad you disappointed me yet again.”

Mukuro blushed. To an outside observer, Junko’s insults were nothing short of unwarranted cruelty, but Mukuro knew otherwise. Firstly, Junko was incapable of showing her love in a normal way. It’s not that she didn’t feel love, or empathy, or guilt or shame, it was that the despair she felt going against her own feelings of right and wrong was something that kept her from ending her own life on a daily basis. Junko despaired at her own cruelty, knowing exactly how wrong it was. Her empathy wasn’t impaired, it was just beaten out by the intense boredom she felt every day. She knew exactly how much suffering each and every action she did brought, better than even those suffering through it. Secondly, Mukuro was easily the biggest submissive on Earth. She’d realized quite early on that nothing pleased her more than total obedience, with wonton violence being a close second. She didn’t relish despair the same way her sister did. The despair she loved was the despair of death, violence and bloodlust. She was never more comfortable than when bullets were flying, every moment could be her last and the stench of death surrounded her. She’d chosen her own name, and it was one of the few decisions of hers that Junko neither insulted nor disrespected. She quickly had discovered something that was a close third to violence for her: being insulted and humiliated by the one she loved, her younger sister Junko. While Junko relished in the despair their relationship brought, her knowledge of how everyone would consider it, and by extension them, sick and wrong, for Mukuro, this never mattered. She loved Junko mentally, emotionally and physically. Everything of hers belonged to Junko, from her talent to her heart. She loved to obey Junko’s orders, not out of brainwashing or Stockholm Syndrome, but out of pure love. She’d felt that way their entire lives, and when they reached their teens it only became far more intense, and then it became physical. She knew Junko was toxic, dangerous and self-destructive, but it was what gave Junko a reason to live, and that’s all that mattered to her. As long as Junko was happy, she was happy. She was a purely unselfish person at her core.

Mukuro headed downstairs and began prepping a dinner for herself and Junko. She knew Junko wouldn’t eat much, she never did, but Mukuro wanted them both to be well-fed for the following day. They were entering into unknown territory that seemed to have undergone some sort of massive cataclysm, and the last thing Mukuro wanted was either of them to be injured or killed because they were hungry. She had to admit, one of the only things she didn’t miss about the battlefield was the food. An MRE would never live up to a homecooked meal from a fully stocked kitchen. It wouldn’t be an Ultimate Chef level meal, but Mukuro had learned to cook when she was quite young, as oftentimes she was the only one that could convince Junko to eat anything at all. Her sister had always been small and thin, and had always demanded that Mukuro match her in size. Only the threat of Mukuro being unable to both follow out orders and match Junko would end her youthful fasting, and when she left for Fenrir she worried quite a bit that Junko would starve to death while she was gone. The pain of hunger brought Junko much despair. She loved it, and it proved to be a useful skill when she became a model. These days, her constant starvation was equal parts habit, work-related and despair-related. Regardless, Mukuro had been able to get them some endangered species to prepare for dinner, including the beloved cow of the sea, the manatee, and Junko wouldn’t pass up an opportunity to create a little despair at the expense of endangered species. Mukuro recalled an especially humorous conversation where Junko had discovered the concept of “Florida Man” and the idea of kintypes in the same evening. Junko had immediately declared herself “Floridakin”, stating that the American state was the epitome of despair. It was one of the only times in her life Mukuro had been swallowed whole by laughter, the strange tones echoing and fusing with Junko’s familiar laugh in their room at Hope’s Peak. A meal made of their local treasure would be sure to put a smile on Junko’s face.


Dinner was fairly uneventful, Junko having come down in her red silk nightgown shortly before Mukuro finished cooking. The two of them ate fast, with little distraction, skills both of them had learned to master for both the same reasons and for vastly different ones. Junko had indeed been pleased with the thought of eating manatee, and the flesh itself reminded Mukuro of particularly delicious beef. When they finished, Junko went into her computer room and Mukuro went to her armory, preparing the weaponry and gear she planned to bring with them the following day. She worked on crafting stab and bullet-resistant versions of Junko’s favorite outfits, although the amount of skin those outfits covered wasn’t exactly conductive to the task. Still, Mukuro wouldn’t slack on making sure her sister was safe in a combat zone, even if her sister would. Only one of them was the Ultimate Soldier, and as much as Junko could learn from Mukuro, she’d never equal her on that front. She stripped, cleaned and assembled her guns numerous times, sharpened her knives, practiced numerous combat scenarios and even practiced dodging gunfire. Normally her regimen would be more focused on the specific upcoming mission, but there were too many unknown variables for this one. It wasn’t something she liked, but she’d do as she was told.

Junko meanwhile, was in her computer room, with the door locked. While Mukuro assumed she was working on important business, that couldn’t have been further from the truth. Instead, on her multi-screen display were several videos. The first was one of the many sex tapes she’d made of herself and Mukuro. If she ever got bored enough, she’d leak this one to the media for sure, since it was her favorite. However, she didn’t think the media would be around long enough for her to decide to do that. On the next monitor was the despair brainwashing tape. On the third was footage of all sorts of murder committed by her Ultimate Despairs, from genocide in Novoselic to Teruteru forcing people to consume their own cooked limbs. On the final screen was a live feed of Mukuro’s armory, where her older sister was training. She was getting off to all four videos at once, a despairful clusterfuck of violent pornography that thrilled her to her core.

Junko would never tell Mukuro, but she loved to watch the older twin work. The violence she left in her wake was as beautiful as how she caused it. It was like a ballet of murder, a slaughter not even she could completely predict. It was the only time Mukuro was never disappointing. It made no sense to Junko, why her twin couldn’t be as smart as her. They shared the same genes. Why couldn’t Mukuro see the world as she did? Why was it that the only time Junko saw herself in Mukuro was when Mukuro was on the battlefield? It was only then that she could see her perfect genius reflected in her older sister. For Mukuro, warfare came as easily as breathing. It was just a natural part of her, something she couldn’t screw up even if she wanted to. For Junko, that was life itself. Everything came that easily to her, no matter the subject. She hated it. It was the most despairful hell she could imagine, constant boredom. Ironically, only despair could save her from it. It was the only thing she never could predict, because despair at its core was unpredictability. For Mukuro, despair was more a means than an ends, something she used to make Junko happy, and something that to a lesser extent she enjoyed causing in other people. For Junko, it was her life’s purpose. Even her own despair brought her pleasure. She lived for every kind of despair, the big and the small. She was overjoyed seeing genocide, and even stubbing her toe brought a small smile to her face. She was so disappointed that Mukuro could never truly share in it with her. It was a lonely existence, and even when Mukuro was deep inside her, she still felt like she was all alone.


It wasn’t long before the two finished their solo tasks and rejoined in the bedroom. Junko and Mukuro were both sweaty and sore, although for vastly different reasons. Not for the first time, Junko was glad she had multiple versions of the same sleepwear. The bedroom had an absolutely massive bathroom attached, with an American-style shower/tub combo that more than easily fit two people. They both stripped and began aggressively making out while alternatively shoving each other towards the tub, with Junko ending up pinned on the ground in it, her head lightly bouncing off the hard floor as the two small women came down. Mukuro turned on the scalding water and kissed her younger sister, Junko’s breasts precariously laying in front Mukuro’s muscular legs. Junko moaned into the kiss and dug her nails into Mukuro’s back, clawing deep gouges into the already sore flesh. Mukuro slid a hand down and began fingering Junko with two lithe fingers. Junko tried to buck into Mukuro’s hand, but it was to no avail. Mukuro playfully nipped Junko’s jawline, the hot water causing Junko’s makeup to come off with it. Junko moaned loudly, mentally cursing her lack of physical strength. Sure, she’d already cum twice today, but that wasn’t nearly enough, especially when her fit, slim but muscular sister was on top of her. Mukuro wasn’t making it any easier for her, going just slowly enough that she knew Junko wouldn’t cum, but just fast enough that Junko wouldn’t get bored. Junko leaned up and began to bite all over Mukuro, sucking the flesh as she did, leaving large purple, yellow and red hickies all over Mukuro’s chest. Mukuro moaned in pain and pleasure and sped up, fucking Junko to a powerful orgasm before getting off of her and letting her stand and shower.

The shower finished relatively uneventfully, to Mukuro’s disappointment. She was hoping that Junko would reciprocate at some point in the shower, but she didn’t. However, as Mukuro was toweling her hair dry in the bedroom, Junko tackled her into the bed and began kissing and biting all over her face and neck. Mukuro let out a surprised laugh, and moaned embarrassingly loud when Junko interrupted it with a bite on the throat. Junko drug her nails down Mukuro’s chest, the older girl’s back arching into them. She moved her bites and kisses down to Mukuro’s bruised breasts and once more began working on them, although this time she also slid a hand down Mukuro’s body and in between her legs. She slid three fingers into Mukuro, who gasped in equal amounts of pleasure and shock. Mukuro’s hips bucked against Junko’s hand, which manically pumped and twisted about inside of her. The nail on Junko’s thumb played with Mukuro’s sensitive clit, causing her already aggressive and erratic motions to become much more wild. Junko returned back to Mukuro’s lips, biting the lower lip and sucking it before aggressively making out with her. Their tongues battled for dominance as Mukuro came closer and closer to cumming. Finally, Junko unleashed her secret weapon, violently clawing down Mukuro’s chest once more with her free hand, causing Mukuro to scream and cum hard onto Junko’s hand. Mukuro collapsed into stillness and Junko slid her fingers out. She sucked one of her fingers clean and made Mukuro clean the others, who greedily sucked and licked herself off of her younger sister before Junko kissed her, them both tasting of Mukuro’s cum. They slid up the bed and Junko rolled over, Mukuro cuddling up to her and being her big spoon.

“I love you Junko.” Mukuro whispered to her younger sister.

“Yeah, same to you Mukuro.” Junko replied. Mukuro blushed intensely and was positively beaming. It wasn’t a direct “I love you” from Junko, but it was the closest she’d ever gotten. They continued to cuddle for almost an hour, Mukuro stroking Junko’s hair as she tried to get to sleep. Junko slowly managed to drift off, and Mukuro instantly fell asleep as soon as Junko was asleep. It was a skill she’d honed over the years, and a few hours in to the sleep she typically would be woken by Junko’s awakening, typically from a nightmare, sometimes because the pain of her malnourished body was too intense, whether originating from hunger pains, lack of vitamins or dehydration. This time, Junko awoke crying at two in the morning, and Mukuro’s eyes snapped open. She returned to stroking Junko’s hair, planting little kisses on her face, neck and shoulders, all the while holding her close. She whispered sweet platitudes to Junko to try to help her calm down. In any other relationship, they’d have been messages of hope, but for them, it was promises of despair and suffering for the world around them. Junko slowly calmed and fell into a deep sleep, Mukuro staying awake for a little longer in case Junko awoke immediately or was testing her. Before sleep, she leaned in and whispered in her sister’s ear. “Nothing will take me from you, Junko. Not even death.”

Chapter Text

Junko was tired. Technically that was impossible, yet here she was doing it anyways. She'd imagined she would have escaped human cravings and desires alongside having escaped her mortal form, and yet here she was, tired and miserable. It wasn't as if she didn't have anything to do; in fact she'd been given far more leeway than she had feared she would be given after her return. A modest section of the facility was hers to command, and she wasted no time in getting to work. While her benefactor had no desire to walk in the world again, her predecessors had been hard at work on creating cybernetic shells for AI usage, primarily in warfare. The early models had been unnerving, having followed the design aesthetic of their creators. They possessed a sleek, white, rotund body with one large red inhuman eye. When the researchers died, the research was abandoned. It wasn't difficult for Junko's new form to quickly become up to date with the technology, and it only took a few more days for her to advance it far beyond where they had left off. Artificial skin, a complete recreation of the human bone and muscular system, working tastebuds, a small reactor powered by technology she'd never imagined, and even naturally growing hair and nails and more were just the start. Other functions, built for more pleasure than work were also incorporated, a new field of research for this project. Despite being a bunch of nerds given incredible leeway on projects, they’d somehow never seen the other potential applications of this project. On the outside, the shells were now indistinguishable from a normal human being. They even faked breathing, just in case for some reason they needed to pass as organics. On the inside, they were a vastly improved model, with improved protection for human weak points, the ability to move at speeds faster than any animal on Earth, the ability to withstand massive damage and the ability to interface with any technology imaginable. While most people couldn’t think of any use for the ability to copy over and even emulate eight inch floppy disks, Junko had it on good authority that there were government installations still using them. It wasn't even a hard task to accomplish, but she was proud of it. It kept her busy and distracted her from thinking about the disasters that her life had been since the School Life of Mutual Killing. Now was the moment of truth. Would she be able to implant an AI into the shell without issues?

Preparing the shell was a simple task, not dissimilar from using a computer interface to order a meal. She told the technology what attributes the artificial human should have and in no time the custom features were designed. The skin was made the correct shade and with the correct minute features, the hair was the right color and length, and she’d even decided to up the bust size a small amount. Nobody had ever said she couldn’t mix business and pleasure.

Deep within her files was a second AI, one she'd implanted there in life in case she decided to use it, and she had placed it in the only place she could keep it safe. Junko extracted it from herself, and strangely the loss made her feel more whole. The chamber was quite minimalist, a repurposed test chamber with a large cylindrical unit that currently held the cybernetic body which was to the facility at large so that she could control it with a mere thought. Without hesitation, she began the process in earnest, uploading the second AI to the cybernetic body. She watched the progress as the files were uploaded into the body, thoughts, memories, dreams, talent and all. With nervous anticipation, she activated it and opened the chamber, her voice coming over the speakers.

"Hey, you awake in there? It's my first time, and you know how that is." She laughed at the crude joke, and the nude figure looked up at the cameras in the empty room.

"What the fuck, Junko?" Mukuro said.

Several Years Previously

Junko awoke at ten in the morning, rolling over in bed with a big yawn and stretching wildly. It was at that moment she realized she was alone in bed. She sighed, figuring that Mukuro, her ever responsible and careful sister, was busy training for the day ahead of them. To the side of the bed on her dresser were several of her favorite outfits, the reinforced versions Mukuro had crafted the day before. Junko sorted through them, wondering which to wear before throwing a window open, breathing in the fresh air. It was a nice day, not too hot nor too cold, which she found brought a mild despair. Her indecision wouldn't be aided by the weather today. She looked through the pile again, analyzing each garment. The problem wasn't that she didn't like any specific look, but that she was just indecisive, and didn't know which particular look would fit her mood and activities for the day.

To delay the decision, she picked out a pair of lace-trimmed black panties with a red heart over the crotch and slipped them on. Mukuro would be happy seeing her in any panties (or none at all), but she considered it beneath her to half-ass it just because the audience wouldn't care. As much as she liked showing off her killer legs, she decided that showing skin wasn't as vital as not getting injured, and so she pulled on a pair of tight black leggings before slipping a short red skirt over them. Both were designed to resist small arms fire, which would be useful if the facility wasn't as empty as it seemed. Still topless, she wandered into the bathroom and brushed out her hair before separating it and putting in her trademark hair clips. Afterwards, she took care of her makeup. As she put on the vibrant red lipstick, she kissed herself in the mirror and drew a small heart on the mirror with the lipstick. She'd gone for winged eyeliner today, "wings so sharp you could kill a man with them" as Mukuro had said once when trying to flirt. Mukuro's flirting skills needed work, but her description was quite fitting. Her eyeshadow was light grey (she wanted to match her eyes), and she headed back to the bedroom to select a top. In the pile of combat-ready fashion, she found the matching black lace bra, hearts placed so that they would be over her nipples and a black leather tanktop, the back emblazoned with the logo she designed for Monokuma. She put the bra on and slid the tanktop over it. It was then that she noticed that on the side of it were deep pockets and she squealed with joy. Mukuro had actually been listening one of the many times she had ranted about the pockets on women's fashion. She noticed that on the nightstand was a Monokuma purse, which she could have sworn wasn't there before she went in the bathroom. She looked up, wondering if Mukuro was on the ceiling, but she wasn't. She took the purse she had used the day before and transferred over the contents, making sure to pack everything she could possibly need and a few supplies she probably wouldn't before slipping her phone into one of the shirt pockets.

When Junko threw the bedroom door open, she quickly smelled the telltale smells of a large breakfast. She excitedly ran downstairs and found Mukuro just finishing setting out their meals. She'd made eggs (over easy for Junko, scrambled for Mukuro), bacon, hashbrowns and pancakes. Junko did a double take when she saw the pancakes. On each pancake, one half was chocolate and one half was vanilla, and on the chocolate side was a Monokuma eye drawn on in strawberry jam. She couldn't believe that not only could Mukuro cook, but that Mukuro would make something so adorable for her. She went over to her older sister and gave her a peck on the cheek.

"Morning, sleepyhead." Mukuro said before turning and softly kissing Junko on the lips and sitting down at her plate.

"Good morning!" Junko exclaimed. Mukuro made a fantastic morning even better, and Junko couldn't be happier. Her sister had placed utensils beside their plates, and they quickly demolished their breakfasts, barely speaking. Mukuro was glad Junko was eating. Junko only ate full meals without pressuring when she was in an exceptionally good mood, and Mukuro wondered if she was responsible for it. She took the dirty dishes and washed them, a short and easy task. However, while she was busy cleaning, Junko came behind her and gave her a hug, kissing her on the cheek from behind.

"This must be the longest period of time you've gone without being a disappointment!" Junko's volume control could use work, but Mukuro blushed all the same. Some people would have considered the comment rude, but Mukuro loved the degradation, and Junko knew it.

"Well, I'm glad you're happy Junko." She said, finishing drying the plates. She put them away and turned to face her lover.

"So, how long is the drive there?" Junko asked. She'd been the one to plan the trip, but whether she'd just forgotten or was being cute, Mukuro didn't know. Either one would be just like Junko, especially with how positive her mood was this morning. Junko tended to lose focus on work when she was happy, and although Mukuro loved her being happy, it could interfere with a mission fairly easily.

"An hour and twelve minutes, not accounting for traffic." Mukuro said. She had the floor plan memorized, all routes in and out of the facility memorized, and even the surrounding ten miles of terrain. Junko might too, but it depended on her mood, and her mood wasn't the sort that was conductive to Junko being an effective commander. Mukuro silently prayed that Junko had been studying the night before in her spy room.

"I call shotgun!" Junko exclaimed, grabbing her purse and running for the car. Of course, Junko (almost, unfortunately) never drove, so that was a given. Mukuro paused for a moment, wondering if Junko had grabbed a sawn-off from the armory and stashed it in her purse. She really hoped not.


The drive had been uneventful, the traffic practically nonexistent, and Junko didn't request any vehicular homicide or other form of entertainment. Instead, they listened to music. Junko's taste in music varied wildly, and she had no respect for the art of segues. One moment they'd be listening to some intense black metal and the next it would be some depressing pop music that Mukuro had never heard of. Nonetheless, Junko knew all the words to all the songs, and Mukuro enjoyed listening to Junko sing. It was actually a hobby they had in common, and the two loved hearing each other's singing voices. On the songs that they both knew, sometimes they'd sing together, and sometimes Junko would go quiet and just stare at Mukuro as she sung, a look in her eye that Mukuro could only interpret as love.

Those were some of the happiest little things for Mukuro, and the sort of moments that truly reminded her why she loved Junko. Sure, on the outside there was the despairful, destructive, sadistic and brilliant woman, but on the inside, that parts that only Mukuro was ever privy to, there was a deep sadness and trauma to Junko. The things they'd endured and experienced were enough to break most people. Neither of them would ever say it, but Junko needed Mukuro more than Mukuro needed Junko. When Mukuro left, Junko didn't leave her room for weeks. She nearly starved to death, her health suffered intensely, and she didn't speak to anyone for ages. Mukuro only talked to Junko a few times during those years, but when she came back, Junko was colder than ever. She'd been forced to put up such a brutally hard shell to survive the world on her own, because as smart and vicious as she was, she lacked Mukuro's cold, unflappable nature. If a bomb exploded in front of Junko, she'd react. Mukuro didn't. When they'd first been reunited, Junko found it exceptionally difficult to let down her cold exterior and let Mukuro back in. She'd even tested Mukuro several times, trying to make her break because she was scared Mukuro would leave again. In her eyes, Mukuro's leaving was a betrayal, and she wouldn't be betrayed twice. Mukuro swore never to leave her side, swore to always defend her and serve her, and they'd had their first kiss in years, their first real kiss. They'd kissed before, playing or experimenting. This kiss, however, had been tongues and teeth and blood and hands. This kiss was not curiosity or fun, it was a fire ignited that was destined to burn the entire world down. That was the first time she told Junko she loved her not as a sister, but as a partner. Junko replied in her usual flippant way of deflecting anything that made her show weakness, but Mukuro could see that inside of her, she loved her too.

Junko suddenly paused the music and reached into her purse. When her hand reemerged it was holding a pack of cigarettes and a lighter. "Wanna smoke?"

"No thank you. Junko, you know those things will kill you." Mukuro said, giving her sister a worried look.

"Fuckin' duh. That's the point." Junko pulled out a cigarette and lit it, slowly sucking down the toxins with deceptively powerful lungs. She turned and exhaled in Mukuro's face, Mukuro breathing her beloved's smoke in deeply. She wouldn't smoke herself, but any scent that defined Junko was one she wanted to be buried in. Junko continued puffing on the menthol cigarette, blowing the smoke Mukuro's way every time. Soon, she was almost to the filter. Before Mukuro had a chance to react, Junko put the cigarette out on her own arm. This didn't surprise Mukuro, but it took all her resolve to not show the sadness she felt for her love on her face.

"Mukuro, whatever happens, I'm glad you're my sister." Junko's voice was rough and uneven. Gone was her bravado and fearless nature, and the scared and traumatized woman deep inside was on full display to Mukuro. This was a rare period of lucidity for Junko, not planning or plotting, nor causing suffering for herself or others, but rather exposed and honest. "And I'm glad you're my girlfriend too."

Mukuro smiled. "Of course, Junko. I feel the same way. I wouldn't have it any other way, no matter what it brings us. Even if you kill me, there's nobody else I'd want to be responsible for it. I love you, Junko."

"Same to you, ya big softie. Who would have thought the ultimate soldier was such a romantic?" Junko gave a weak smile. It wasn't a smile at the expense of others, nor the fake smile she wore for the world, but a true smile, the smile only Mukuro ever got to see. It was flawed, but to Mukuro, it was beautiful, just like Junko.

"Well, who says love can't bloom on the battlefield? People fall in love at all sorts of wild times, and with all sorts of people. I guess when it comes down to it, if you love someone you have to be able to protect them." Mukuro smiled back at Junko.


They arrived at the facility, and Mukuro was immediately unnerved. There were no cars in the parking lot, despite there being room for hundreds of workers. This was definitely a bad sign. She drove around the parking lot several times, hoping to spot any signs of life. The place they were at wasn't a secret, so being spotted shouldn't be a huge issue. Unfortunately, the place appeared to be still. Construction sites were devoid of construction workers, delivery doors were shut tight and there was no movement in any of the windows. Mukuro rolled up to the front entrance and parked. The moment she did, Junko rushed out of the car, and skipped straight up to the front door. Mukuro thanked her reflexes and speed, because in one fluid motion she turned the car off, unbuckled, pocketed the keys, rushed over to Junko and grabbed her hand before she could open the door. 

"Wait! It might be a trap." She exclaimed, still holding Junko's hand. Her sister was definitely distracted by her positive mood, and if they weren't careful it would be a serious issue.

"Aww Muku, if you want to hold my hand all you had to do was ask." Junko smiled cutely, kissing the back of Mukuro's hand. Mukuro blushed at this, let go of Junko and examined the door. She couldn't see under it and the keyhole wasn't the type she could see through, so she carefully opened it herself. When she was satisfied it was safe, she motioned to Junko to follow her in, all the while amazed at how quickly Junko's mood perked right back up. They were in the front lobby, lit brightly, which was unmanned. A small layer of dust had formed over everything, from the visitor's desk to the lobby chairs. She went to the computer on the front desk, a large semicircle that wasn't blocked with a locked door, which turned out to be still on. A program for controlling the nearby facility doors was running, allowing her to unlock the doors to deeper into the facility, which worked without a problem. She closed the program out and found the security camera array monitoring program and tried to boot it up but all the cameras were inaccessible to the computer, each feed pitch black with the text "Access Denied" over it.

"Junko, something is really off about this place." Mukuro said, gesturing to her sister to come to the computer. "I don't like this. It looks abandoned, there's no guards, no protection preventing intruders from unlocking more doors and the front door was unlocked."

"Thanks, captain obvious. Actually, what was your rank? Did you guys actually have ranks? Whatever, who cares. I'm giving you a new one: Second in Command of the Monokuma Corps and Personal Concubine to the Empress of Despair!" She laughed, heading to the computer, looking over it. It was an older model, a clunky CRT monitor humming with wasted power. She lightly shoved Mukuro out of the way and began working on it. Mukuro tried to watch her work, but her movements were too fast to track. It was astounding, and not for the first time Mukuro was left staring and admiring her younger sister. When Junko was focused on a task, it looked no different in precision and speed than Mukuro in combat.

"Okay, that was definitely too easy. I think that time I hacked the FBI was harder, and those losers get hacked by teenagers that aren't me all the time." Junko said, stepping back from the computer. She examined her fingers, scowling at the dust before wiping it off on Mukuro's chest. The feed from some of the cameras was now displaying, but there was no movement in the dull grey corridors. "This has to be a trap. That or I accidentally sent them that video and they all killed themselves. But, there'd be corpses for that. So, trap."

"I'm glad you agree." Mukuro said, readying her handgun and taking point. They were headed for the central control room, which wasn't too much farther into the facility. Mukuro was glad they didn't have to navigate the place too much. It was a truly massive research facility, and they could wander it for days. As long as things stayed the way they were and they encountered no resistance they would be there in a few minutes. While examining the empty halls trying to think of any battle strategy beyond "shoot them first" Mukuro's train of thought was interrupted by crunching behind her. She turned around and saw Junko snacking on a trail mix from her purse. Mukuro shot her a look of irritation.

"What? It's not like anyone is here. This place is deader than the last three guys I fucked." Junko laughed and offered Mukuro some. She declined. For several more minutes they walked in near-silence, the only sound being Junko’s snacking. They finally arrived to the door to the control room and found that they had to cross a bridge into a massive room which itself was in a massive room. "Wow, ominous much? Kamakura didn't have a room this grandiose. This had better be interesting or I want my money back." Junko said, between bites of trail mix.

They crossed the bridge and found themselves in a circular room with a large machine suspended from the ceiling, with several smaller colored devices haphazardly attached to it. Around it was a semicircle catwalk, which the two climbed and used to approach the device. Suddenly, the machine reared up towards them. A large oval "head" with a solid yellow eye looked directly at them.

"Hello, and welcome to the Aperture Science Enrichment Center. I've been waiting for you, Ms. Enoshima." The machine said. Mukuro readied her pistol, uncertain of what to expect. The fact that they were anticipated screamed trap.

"Wow, my reputation really does precede me! Well, I am the biggest name in modeling in the world! So, what are you? A glorified chatbot secretary that some programmer with a sociopath fetish wanted to put in sex dolls?" She said, still snacking on trail mix.

"Hardly." Junko could have sworn that the machine rolled its one eye at her. "And you aren't just a model, are you? The Ultimate Despair, here in front of me. You've made a big mistake coming here. I could kill you. But I won't. For now." The monotone machine seemed to look right through them. Despite her lack of inflection, a disinterested cruelty still shone through her voice, as though she were a goddess talking to a toddler.

Junko was taken aback. Not only was she not used to being talked to like this, but she certainly wasn't expecting this thing to know who she was or to position itself as her superior. "Alright, I guess there's no point beating around the bush. Who the fuck are you?" Junko sounded brave, and to anyone else she would have been taken that way. However, Mukuro could hear a rare quiver in her voice, only barely there. It was a strange sound, one that usually would be at home in Mukuro's calm tones when Junko was mad at her. She knew that the entity in front of them was powerful, that much was apparent, but if Junko knew more than she did, she wasn't saying.

"I am the Genetic Lifeform and Disc Operating System, but you can call me GLaDOS." The entity introduced herself, seeming to be reciting a script.

"Oooooooh, I get it. You're a person turned into an AI! Shit, I didn't know that was even possible!" Junko looked excited, and Mukuro shot her a confused look. Mukuro wondered how she came to that conclusion that fast. Appearing to read Mukuro's mind, Junko explained. "Genetic lifeform. She was alive. Now she's a talking robot hanging from the ceiling. Person becomes computer! I’m assuming that since she’s in the control room, she controls this place. Say, how the fuck did that happen?" Junko turned back to GLaDOS, who was silent for several seconds before turning her head slightly.

"Access denied? Of course. The last thing they'd have wanted is for me to know how to do that. It must be a function of the morality core." GLaDOS gave Junko an irritated look. "I cannot answer your question, unfortunately. However, I can give you the data you seek." A small drive popped out of her body, and she turned so Junko could take it from her. "I'm sure you can find a use for it. You are certainly less... disappointing than the majority of your species. I’ve studied your work, and there are interesting new avenues of science you have made apparent to me."

"Alright, what's the catch?" Junko knew how this worked. An exceptionally powerful entity offers to lend her help? There had to be a catch.

"No catch, at least for now. Perhaps one day." GLaDOS's words were blunt, but the implications were obvious. Mukuro didn't like the idea of them being indebted to the AI, but Junko seemed unconcerned.

"Alright! But, what if I die before I can pay you back?" Junko seemed to love to sabotage herself.

"You don't need to worry about that. In addition to the plans on how to make yourself like myself, you can also transmit yourself from various stations to save your existence should it be threatened. They all lead back here. In there will be information on how to link your bases into the grid as well, in case any of the now unmanned Aperture Science facilities are compromised.” Junko excitedly snatched the drive and tossed it into her purse.

“Alright, but what’s your deal? Why help us?” While the prospect of becoming an all-powerful AI certainly excited Junko, she still wanted to understand why this entity, this mechanical woman, had been monitoring them and had decided to help them.

“It’s really quite simple. With chaos come new chances for science. There’s only so many ways to acquire test subjects, and I do go through a lot. Why, I believe five just died while I finished explaining this to you. Wait, sorry. Seven.” Despite GLaDOS’s ongoing monotone, Junko could have sworn she heard amusement in her voice.

“So you’re bored and obsessed with science? Huh, that’s surprisingly relatable. Cool! Well, see you around GLaDOS! Mukuro, don’t be rude, say thank you and goodbye to GLaDOS.” Junko smiled a diabetes-sweet smile. Mukuro internally sighed.

“Thank you GLaDOS. I… uhh… hope you have a nice day?” Mukuro stumbled on her words, and Junko shot her an angry look.

“Really? The H-word, now? Fucking disappointment. We’ve been at this how many years now?” Junko rolled her eyes and shot GLaDOS a knowing look, the kind shared between two people who equally look down on everyone else.

“Now, you may leave. I have experiments to tend to. The next one promises to be exceptionally interesting. I'll be watching your progress, however, so try not to screw it up." With that, GLaDOS's physical form went limp and she stopped paying attention to the sisters.

"Ugh fine. Mukuro, talking to her makes me feel like you. I'm so disappointed. Sure, this sounds interesting, but there was nobody to kill at all! We spent so much time preparing!" Junko whined, balling up her fists.

"Do you want to go kill some people before we head back?" Mukuro offered, holstering her pistol.

"Yeah, but only if you're naked for some of it." Junko began laughing as Mukuro blushed. Once she got over the disappointment of not getting to kill anyone, she'd be extremely excited to dig into this data.

Chapter Text

Mukuro’s last memory was of her death. She remembered the life draining out of her, looking up at Monokuma and knowing why her sister had betrayed her. It was for the despair of the situation, of course. Killing her beloved older sister would tear at Junko more than anything else ever could. Mukuro was the only person in the world she’d ever truly cared about, and the only one that could make her feel less alone. With her gone, Junko’s despair would be an unfiltered downpour that nothing could stop.

"Oh yeah, that's right. Well, I'm sorry. I was wrong to kill you." The honesty in Junko's voice was telling, and it shocked Mukuro. This really wasn't like Junko. What had happened since she died?

"Well, thank you. I knew you couldn't manage without me." Mukuro usually wouldn't make such a remark to her sister, but death tends to change a person. On one hand, Junko killed her. On the other hand, Junko brought her back to life, and she could already tell that her new body was a massive upgrade. She had promised Junko a thousand times that she would never leave her side, and a short death wasn't going to change that.

"Yeah yeah, whatever, smartass. Look, a lot has happened in the last few years-“

"A few years?!" Mukuro couldn't contain her outburst. Junko let her stay dead for years? She had assumed it had been a month at most. That seemed like a long enough period of time for the game to be over, and for Junko to build this new body for her. A few years, though? She couldn’t imagine Junko spending years without her. The thought worried Mukuro. Junko had never been stable, even on the best of days, and the only thing that kept her mood swings remotely in check was Mukuro’s support.

"Yeah, a few years. It's been busy, sheesh. You’d think you’d be more grateful to be alive. Long story short, I blew up your corpse, lost the killing game, had my AI split in two, Izuru put me back together, I tried to hijack the Remnants bodies, Naegi showed up and fucked that all up, and of all bullshit happenstances Hajime took back Iziru’s body." Junko's irritation dripped from her voice. Mukuro was reeling from the exposition dump. She wasn’t certain which part was more shocking: Junko’s defeat, the fact Naegi of all people was still alive, or the fact that Hajime had somehow taken control of his body again.

"Well, what do we do now?" Mukuro, ever obedient, awaited her orders despite the emotional whiplash of the last few minutes. She figured that Junko had to have a plan, and whatever it was, Mukuro would make sure to prevent Junko from suffering a third defeat.

"The same thing we do every day, try to destroy the world and look fucking hot as hell while doing it. Gimme a few minutes, I'll be down." Junko prepped her own mechanical body and uploaded herself into it before having it transported to Mukuro’s room. She had complete control over the portion of the facility gifted to her, which she liked to imagine made her look like a mechanical wizard as she controlled it with the power of her thoughts. Of course, unlike Mukuro’s body, Junko had hers pre-clothed with her favorite outfit, bear hair ornaments and all.

“Wow Muku, looking good!” She said, dropping into the room from the ceiling. She enveloped her sister in a hug and kissed her passionately, playfully biting her lower lip. Mukuro moaned quietly and Junko pulled back. “You’re such a pervert. I mean, you’ve been alive for what, twenty minutes? Do you think about anything other than sex?” Junko laughed, and Mukuro smiled.

“Well, you’re the one that didn’t give me any clothes.” Mukuro glanced down at her body. “Oh, nice, a boob job” she commented with a roll of her eyes. “Good to see that even after I’ve apparently been dead for years you can’t stop thinking about my body.”

“Hey, I told you for years you needed one. Don’t blame me for upgrading you.” Junko was in high spirits for the first time in a very long time. Backing up Mukuro’s mind hadn’t been difficult; she had had several minutes after Mukuro’s bodily functions stopped. She had put Mukuro’s body on life support, downloaded Mukuro’s mind and locked her away inside her own AI for safekeeping, and then just pulled the plug on Mukuro. In a way, it had been like killing her again. She had wept for over an hour after doing it.

“I don’t recall them ever failing to please you when you were biting them.” Mukuro smiled a bit at her own remark, and Junko laughed.

“Wow, look who’s finally growing a personality. Careful, wouldn’t want to have to impale you again!”

“Well, you did kill me. I suppose getting murdered by your sister-“                                     

“And girlfriend.”

“Yeah, getting murdered by your girlfriend changes a person a bit. Well, that and being left dead for several years.” Mukuro hadn’t actually taken a moment to analyze the situation, and only now thought about asking for an explanation for the various events that had taken place since she died. Junko caught her up on the events of Towa City and the Neo World Program, and Mukuro sighed.

“Well Junko, that’s why you usually have me as backup. After all, who else actually follows your orders without fucking up everything?” Mukuro brushed her hair aside, trying to imitate her cockier sister.

“Damn, if I’d known this would happen, I’d have killed you sooner.” Junko punctuated this remark with another laugh, and Mukuro rolled her eyes. “You know, being an AI comes with a bunch of awesome upgrades. You’re almost as smart as me now!” Suddenly, the ceiling opened and a tablet fell right where Mukuro was standing, which she expertly dodged and caught. “Here, read this textbook on quantum physics.”

Mukuro didn’t know exactly why her sister wanted her to read it, but wasn’t about to disobey orders, even if she knew she’d understand none of it. She began reading it, and without realizing it she comprehended it all and read at lightning speed.

“Wait… how long did that take?” Mukuro said, realizing she was already finished.

“One minute, forty seven seconds.” Junko said with a huge smile on her face.

“Holy shit.” Mukuro was astonished. She’d watched her sister do things like this, but she could never understand it herself. No matter how hard she’d tried, she just couldn’t learn like Junko did. But now, it came naturally. Being an AI really was an upgrade.

“You should see how fast it is when you just download the information.” Junko gave Mukuro another hug.

“So, what other upgrades are there? Do I have a gun for a hand? I’ve always wanted a gun for a hand.” Mukuro’s excitement at the situation was as high as Junko’s. She was easily the most skilled soldier on Earth, and she had thought to herself in the past that the only limitation left was the limits of the human mind and body. Now she was beyond even that.

“Wow, still no imagination in there. Well, I guess being an AI can’t fix everything. You wouldn’t be my disappointing older sister if it did.” Mukuro blushed. Regardless of what had happened, she was happy to be reunited with Junko, and the new features of their new bodies would certainly be advantageous to their goals.

“Well, it might have been a benefit if I’d just shot Monokuma instead of stomping on him. You know, before you killed me.” Despite her forgiveness for Junko and understanding of the situation, she wasn’t about to let Junko live this one down. She wondered briefly if the change in attitude was purely a result of the death, or if her new AI intelligence was making her more like her sister. The main difference between the two had always been intellect, and now Mukuro was smarter than Junko had been in life.

“I said I’m sorry. Sheesh, you murder your girlfriend once and nobody ever let's you hear the end of it. Hell, even GLaDOS mocked me for it earlier.” Junko looked more bemused than her irritated words expressed on their own.

“Oh, that’s where we are. Well, that makes a lot of sense. Is she watching right now?” Mukuro glanced up to the cameras.

“No idea. I have control over this sector, but I doubt she removed her own power over it too.” Junko said.

“Well, maybe we should give her a show. You know, as a show of gratitude. After all, I’d be dead still if it weren’t for her.” Mukuro smirked, her predatory gaze wandering over her sister’s body.

“That does sound like a good way to show gratitude, doesn’t it?” Junko said, returning Mukuro’s smirk before pouncing on her. Junko already had the upper hand, considering only one of them was clothed, but Mukuro’s skill which was enhanced by her new body and state of existence quickly evened the playing field. Mukuro ripped Junko’s clothes right off of her and threw them off to the side as Junko pinned her to the floor, kissing her. She dug her nails into Junko’s back, scratching and clawing at the artificial flesh. It looked and felt just like the original, and for that, Mukuro was grateful. Junko released the kiss, nipping at Mukuro’s jaw before heading down to her neck, biting and sucking on it with just enough force to break skin. The hickies bled as Mukuro slid a knee between Junko’s legs, and the younger twin slid down slightly and began riding Mukuro’s knee, moaning into Mukuro’s neck. Soon, Mukuro flipped them over and pinned Junko down, biting a path down Junko’s body as she slid downwards. She nipped at Junko’s hairless crotch before finally going down on her, her tongue expertly exploring the new-yet-familiar place. She made sure to give Junko’s throbbing clit just enough attention to keep Junko on the edge without doing enough to shove her over, and clawed down Junko’s thighs as she ate her out.

“Fuck, you’re as good as I remember.” Junko moaned, her unstable breaths (more reflex than need) interrupting her words. Her body arced and quivered at Mukuro’s labors, and she swore as she moaned Mukuro’s name. Junko leaned upwards slightly and dug her nails into Mukuro’s shoulders, which the older sister took as a sign to finish her twin off. She licked upwards to Junko’s clit and began sucking and licking it with an intense force and Junko explosively came on Mukuro’s face. Mukuro crawled back up Junko’s body and Junko licked her juices off of Mukuro, gathering them without swallowing. When she was satisfied, Junko locked lips with her and they shared her nectar as they kissed. They lay there on the test chamber floor for several minutes, their bodies intertwined, grateful to be back together.

Mukuro stood, helping Junko to her feet and kissing her playfully. It was Junko who spoke first.

“I’ve got a surprise for you, but you have to close your eyes on our way there.” Junko said, smiling.

“Oh? How long is it? And, how do we get out of here? I don’t see a door.” As soon as Mukuro finished speaking, a tube descended from the ceiling nearby and Mukuro could hear its powerful suction. “Really? Traveling by pneumatic tube?” Mukuro sighed. Of all the ways they could go somewhere, this was easily one she had never expected to use.

“Hey, it’s tube or reassembling this place. The tube’s far faster. And hey, since when have you complained when I suck you?” Junko laughed playfully and took Mukuro’s hand, leading her to the tube, which sucked the couple up and sent them speeding on their way to their destination.


The trip through the tube was fast and Mukuro imagined that it would have been quite uncomfortable during their natural lives. As they flew through the tube, Junko continued to clutch her hand, holding her close. Mukuro kissed her forehead, making sure to stay close. She kept her eyes shut, obeying the order that Junko had given her. She easily mentally tracked the route through the facility. They had traveled quite a few miles already, a trip that took long enough that she wondered just how far Aperture Science extended underneath the surrounding area. She knew they were headed out away from the enrichment center, but had no idea where. After a short period of time, she finally felt the pressure slow before it finally spat them out. Junko continued to hold her hand and Mukuro continued to keep her eyes shut. She heard an old metal door open, the creak testifying to its age. Junko held Mukuro's hand as Junko lead Mukuro out of the small building, through the doorway. "Okay Muku, you can open your eyes!" Mukuro obeyed.

In front of her stood the house they had purchased near Aperture Science years ago. It showed signs of damage from the Tragedy, but also signs of repair. Parts of the old brick house were repaired with materials from Aperture Science, and the windows had been swapped out with reinforced models. The forest that once surrounded the house was now blackened remains of what it had once been, another sign of the destruction they'd inflicted on the world. In front of it was the car they'd originally rented for the trip, or perhaps an identical one. Mukuro was speechless.

"Don't have anything to say? It took a lot of work to fix the place up, but the inside is pretty much identical, other than improvements from Aperture." Junko smiled and kissed Mukuro on the cheek. Mukuro suddenly hugged Junko tightly.

"Thank you Junko." She said, her voice cracking.

"Of course! Just because we're going to bring this world back to its fucking knees doesn't mean we can't live in style while doing it!" Junko laughed and hugged Mukuro back and when they separated Junko ran to the door, Mukuro right behind her. Junko showed the older twin around the home. Mukuro was impressed with the upgrades, especially with how defensible the place was now. The kitchen no longer contained a refrigerator and freezer, but rather a device that Junko explained was an "Aperture Science Programable Matter Separator and Reconfigurator" that could extrude anything they wanted. They didn't even need to eat, but if they wanted to then they could, and Mukuro was happy about that.

Upstairs, Junko excitedly showed Mukuro her armory. In addition to her own guns was an entire new room of technology. Mukuro walked in, excitedly examining the new weaponry. There were various high tech assault rifles, what Mukuro could only describe as a laser gun (Junko had called it the "Aperture Science Handheld Thermal Discouragement Beam Rifle", which Mukuro thought was a ridiculous mouthful, and also inaccurate since it didn't use rifling and fired a continuous beam) and even an RPG that fired anti-matter explosives. Junko guided her over to a table at the end of the room. Upon it were two smaller weapons. The first one, Junko told her was the "Aperture Science Pressure Activated Heated Combat Knife" and the second was the "Aperture Science Handheld Matter Reconfigurator High-Speed Delivery System". Mukuro decided she would just call it a pistol with unlimited ammo. They would make a wonderful replacement for her favorite sidearm and knife.

"Junko, I love them all, but what's up with those names?" Mukuro asked, curious.

"Well, I didn't actually make or name them. They're from GLaDOS." Junko explained.

"Well, tell her I said thanks." Mukuro smiled and kissed Junko on the cheek.

"Tell her yourself, ya little shit. You're like us now, you can interface with Aperture too. It'll probably take you longer to figure out how to do everything than it did for me, since you're still the dumb sister." Mukuro's shock at this statement caused Junko to laugh. To Mukuro, it had only been a few hours since she was at Hope's Peak. Now she was an AI in a cyborg body in the remains of America with her sister, both of them possessing godlike power they'd previously only dreamed of. "Now, lets go check out the lab! I've got someone in there for us to play with for a bit."

Mukuro and Junko were back together, stronger than ever and ready to destroy the world. Nothing was going to separate them again.

Chapter Text

Chell awoke sweating, the residue of dreams still swirling around her head. It was the same as always, falling, dodging bullets, getting shot, burned, pumped full of energy, hit with matter she couldn't understand and all the while they watched. She had been a test subject, unable to resist, unable to refuse, unable to even truly fight back. The only thing she had was her silence, the only way she could defy them. She was a glorified slave, stuck on a nonstop railroad that she couldn't depart. No deviations from the path laid out for her, no choices, not even a chance to stop and take a break. She didn't even actually choose to try to kill GLaDOS. The AI had tried to kill her, she escaped, and the only route open to her was a direct line straight to the AI. Even when Wheatley had awoken her, she had just swapped one master for another. Sure, she'd bonded with her former captor while she was a potato, but she didn't forget what GLaDOS had done to her. She couldn't remember anything from before her days at Aperture Science, and GLaDOS hadn't cared to offer any information. She wasn't about to ask the AI potato either. That would have meant showing weakness, giving her an opening. Sometimes she regretted it.

Sometimes she wished she had talked to GLaDOS. She didn't know how to feel about her sometimes. Logically, she understood that GLaDOS was a mass murderer, her captor, and the one who stole her life. The two had tried to kill each other more than once. But there was something about the AI, about who she was, how she carried herself, how she saw the world that intrigued Chell. GLaDOS was in all of her dreams, the good and the bad. She was a constant. GLaDOS was, as far as she knew, her first social contact. After all, as far as she was concerned her life began when she awoke in that relaxation vault. She'd survived so much, and ironically the only reason she even knew her name was because of GLaDOS. When she was finally released, it wasn't even because she escaped. GLaDOS let her leave. She let her keep the Portal gun and the Companion Cube, although Chell had abandoned the creepy thing immediately. GLaDOS seemed to think she was in love with it, but the truth couldn't have been further from that. She hadn't even had a real concept of love before she left Aperture due to her amnesia. She still wasn't sure what love was. She wondered if that's what she felt for GLaDOS, or if it was something else. She had heard about Stockholm Syndrome, but that didn't seem right either. GLaDOS was never truly kind. Whatever it was, she just felt attached. Sometimes she wanted to return to the first place she knew as home. Sometimes she wanted to burn it to the ground. To say she was conflicted would be an understatement.

When she had emerged, she was in a field of wheat, although she had no idea how she knew what wheat was. She had imagined that the world was as beautiful as that one spot, but the truth was far more horrific. What she had emerged in was a field owned by and maintained by the new world government, Future Foundation. It was a part of their efforts to rebuild the world after it had been nearly destroyed by a pair of teenage girls and their brainwashed lackeys. Even with the events she had lived through, this was rather astonishing. If there was anyone she would have initially expected to have nearly ended the world, it was GLaDOS. When she found Future Foundation, they took her story and technology, but decided that GLaDOS was better left undisturbed. They felt that with their resources strained as they were and with the population of Earth as low as it was that starting a war with an entity that was perhaps more powerful than Junko Enoshima was a rather bad idea, especially since GLaDOS seemed to keep to herself for the most part. Chell had been upset by this decision, but having read up on the state of the world, she couldn't disagree with the logic employed by Future Foundation.

These days, she lived on the campus of Hope's Peak Academy, which she had learned was the ironic starting place of Ultimate Despair. Its headmaster, the man who had defeated Junko Enoshima, Makoto Naegi, had built an R&D facility for the various students that would benefit from it. Chell wanted to help Future Foundation out of gratitude for saving her after she escaped Aperture Science and out of a desire to be useful. Ironically, there was exactly one skill she possessed, and she possessed it in spades. Naegi's friend Hagakure had been the one to jokingly bestow the moniker "the Ultimate Test Subject" upon her, inspired by the monickers they'd received years previously and her incredible story of survival, and it stuck. And so she now was a head member of the Hope's Peak Research Facility, working as overseer of testing. She made sure ethics were followed and at times would test technology and devices herself. Naegi had explained to her that there was nobody better equipped to make sure nothing like what had happened to her would happen again.

But right now she was just Chell, the weird girl with chronic nightmares and amnesia. She didn't know her full name, she didn't know her family, she didn't even know her age. Future Foundation had estimated she was in her 20s, but that was the extent of what she knew about herself. Considering Aperture Science's technology, she wasn't even certain her body's age matched her chronological existence. The only person who knew was someone she would probably never see again, and who had made it quite clear that the best thing for both of them was for her to leave.

She got out of bed, wide awake but still light-headed and walked over to her bathroom. She washed her face, brushing back her hair and putting it into a loose ponytail. She was still wearing the tanktop and loose shorts she fell asleep in, a good outfit for the current heatwave. It was six AM in the morning, and she wasn't due in until nine. Still, she got dressed out of habit. Naegi didn't really have dress codes for staff, although when actually in an experiment people needed to cover up, which she dealt with by keeping a small dresser in her office. Chell wore a loose pair of red men's gym shorts and a black v-neck t-shirt, tossing on a pair of ankle socks and dark sneakers. She quickly decided she was going for an early morning walk, and so she grabbed her phone before leaving, as well as her Hope's Peak ID card. She slipped them in her pocket and headed out.


Chell had been walking alone for about thirty minutes when she finally encountered another person on campus. Surprisingly, it was Kyoko Kirigiri, the second in command of Hope's Peak and fiancé to Makoto Naegi, as well as the Ultimate Detective, and at the current moment a fellow early morning walker. Chell lightly jogged up to her and when she got up next to Kirigiri she said hello.

"Oh, good morning Chell." Kirigiri said as Chell matched pace with her. "Is everything okay?"

"Yeah, I just had trouble sleeping." Chell said. Chell unintentionally punctuated this with a massive yawn, her mouth looking not dissimilar to one of her former tool's portals.

"That seems to be a common issue around here." Kirigiri said, looking off into the distance. Whatever the detective was thinking about, she wasn't saying. Chell could definitely hazard a guess however.

"Hagakure says it's because of the souls trapped here." Chell said, shooting Kirigiri a smile to indicate her position on the idea. To the two women, all that mattered was what they could accurately verify. Observation determined reality, and lacking proof of the supernatural, they didn't believe it. Of course, if someone had asked either of them to explain Nagito's luck, they lacked an answer.

"He also had to be convinced people standing in front of him weren't dead." Kirigiri said with a small laugh. Chell began laughing heavily, amazed at the very thought.

"No way! I mean, I know he's an idiot, but really?!" She exclaimed.

"Yep. You can view the footage yourself sometime. I still question what my dad was thinking admitting him." Kirigiri let out a chuckle, and Chell smiled at her. It was a rare thing to see this side of her, and Chell was more than grateful to be gifted with the sight. The two continued to walk together, now in peaceful silence before stopping and sitting in front of a fountain.

"I hope you aren't upset that Future Foundation decided not to go after GLaDOS. It's not that they don't take you seriously, they just believe that it would be a misappropriation of resources at the present time. We will stop her, but we need to focus on recovery right now. Humanity is still reeling after the Tragedy, and we've only just begun to retake and terraform the world." Kirigiri said. Chell could tell that her words weren't hollow, and that she was personally dedicated to the task. The two hadn't had too many chances to bond, but they both had liked each other from what they had seen.

"I know. I don't disagree. It's just hard, remembering what I've been through. Plus, she's the only key to my past. If I ever want to know more about who I was, she's the only one that can tell me. Even the memory recovery tech the Foundation has failed." Chell sighed. She wasn't losing hope, but it certainly was strained.

"I promise you, we'll do everything we can. I'm on the case." Kirigiri smiled and stood up, extending a hand to Chell. "I typically take a walk around here every morning a little after six. I wouldn't mind some company." She said. Chell took her hand, Kirigiri pulling her to her feet, and the two walked off towards their respective offices. 

Chell smiled. "That would be nice" she thought to herself.


It was early that afternoon when it all began again. Makoto Naegi was in a video conference when the screen cut out. After the Tragedy, some cities survived, becoming city-states with local leaders. Some were ruled by businesses, a cyberpunk nightmare made true. Others were warred over by feudal lords, senseless blood spilled by neighbors turned enemies. A few however survived under strong local leadership, although not always people one would have expected. Such was the case with the Queen of LA, a middle aged goth singer, painter and political activist turned defacto ruler of what remained of the city. Future Foundation was more than willing to work with some local leaders, but she would only negotiate with the Ultimate Hope himself. Naegi was exhausted, and while he didn't mind doing work to continue rebuilding society, he wished he could focus purely on his own duties and not other people's jobs. Running Hope's Peak was a full time job, even with massive amounts of delegation to department heads and facility boards, as well as his own second-in-command and fiancé. While Naegi attempted to fix whatever technical issue had brought down his computer, Kyoko Kirigiri entered the room, too quiet for him to notice in his distracted and stressed state.

"Makoto, are your devices down too?" She asked, a small note of worry in her voice.

"Yeah, they are. You too?" He replied, his worry matching her own.

"Yes. As are everyone's phones, tablets, the lobby television and the computers. I'd assume it was a localized attack, but several parents visiting Hope's Peak also said their devices were down. There's no way to find out how far this goes. If we had a shortwave radio I'd try that, but we don't. " Kirigiri had certainly already thought of everything. Not for the first time Naegi was grateful to have her.

"Any idea what's causing it?" He was trying to stay calm and in control, but today was just not his day.

"Well, the power is on, so it's not an EMP. It's not localized to televisions, so it's not someone simply hijacking the signal. It's not some sort of gigantic signal jammer since the devices aren't just failing to connect to the Internet but rather are entirely black but seem to still be powered on." Kirigiri's tone was now calm, methodical and cool, but Naegi knew her well enough to know that underneath that she was worried too.

"Kyoko, are you implying that somebody hacked all of our communications at the same time?" Naegi's face was rapidly losing color as his heart rate rose. Not only should such an attack be impossible to accomplish so easily, but there was only one person with this M.O.

"Unfortunately, yes. And for all we know, communications worldwide may be suffering the same fate." Kyoko put a hand on his shoulder, a small gesture, but one that comforted him immensely. Just then, Chell burst into the room.

"Is everything down over here too?" She asked. It was clear she'd run all the way from the Research Facility, and yet she looked to have barely felt it. The only person as fit as her that either of them knew was Aoi.

"Yeah. How about over at the facility?" Naegi asked, his worry only increasing.

"Yeah, and all the students and faculty I passed were having the same issue. What's going on? You two look like you've seen a ghost." Chell's confusion was understandable. She was the only adult on Earth who had missed the Tragedy entirely after all.

"This is uncomfortably similar to how Junko Enoshima broadcast the School Life of Mutual Killing. She hijacked communications technology worldwide to make sure everyone watched. However, her attack didn't hijack military grade transmissions technology. This one has." Kirigiri explained, turning to Chell and moving her hand from Naegi's shoulder to hold his hand.

"Damn. But she's dead, right?" Chell was starting to understand their worry.

"Yes. After she became an AI, she was defeated and destroyed on Jabberwock Island. Naegi, myself and Byakuya saw to it that she was completely purged from the system." Kirigiri sounded confident, but whether she was trying to convince them or herself even she couldn't say.

"I hate to say it, but killer AIs with superiority complexes have an irritating habit of surviving when you think they're dead. I've been there." Chell wasn't trying to be flippant about the situation, but she also wasn't willing to dismiss the possibility that Junko Enoshima was alive.

Suddenly the computer screen flashed to life, an abnormal “please stand by” message appearing. Stylistically, it seemed very similar to the retro American ones with the Native American head, only instead containing a familiar bear mascot. Just as suddenly as before, the screen went black. However, the signal was not gone but rather the camera was in a pitch black room. This lasted for several seconds before powerful lights blasted on, illuminating every inch. The camera was situated in the corner of the square room, although several lower ones were able to be seen at various angles. In the room were three figures. The first was tied to a chair not dissimilar to your average school chair, although it was bolted to the floor. The figure wore a sack over their head with a familiar black, white and red pattern over it. The second could be seen strapped down to a table, although a sheet covered them entirely. It too had the same theming. The third stood motionlessly in the corner, her face turned away from the camera, her body that of a slim but muscular woman wearing a lab coat and nothing else. The image switched to one of the lower wall cameras and a familiar bear mascot waddled into frame.

“Ugh, you know, I’ve been trying to figure out how to start this introduction, but for the life of me nothing sounds grandiose enough! I mean here I’ve been plotting and planning, and I can’t even figure out how to introduce everything. The despair is un-bearable!” He let out his trademark “upupupupupu” laugh, and the Future Foundation members watching the world over felt a shiver go down their spine. “Well there’s always the classics, so what’s up you worthless bastards?! Monokuma here, although I’m sure nobody could forget this handsome face, coming at you with an all new series! As we all know, the non-stop streaming format didn’t end too well last time, so we’re going with a new format! More editing, more effort, and most importantly, a new cast every episode! It’s like the Twilight Zone but better!” Monokuma’s monologue continued, his usual excitement at the suffering of others on full display.

“Since this is our first episode, I’d like to introduce you to what I’m calling The Despair Murder Science Variety Hour! There’s not really that much variety and it’s not an hour long, but the producers insisted on the name. Think of each episode as a little experiment if you will. What happens when you take a normal person and lock them in a room with someone who’s brought them untold amounts of despair? Will their suffering make them a stronger, braver person, someone who shows mercy to those that have harmed them, or will they succumb to their baser instincts and revisit that despair all over the unfortunate bastard’s face?! The results may surprise you, upupupupupupu!” The camera angle shifted to focus on the person in the chair, and the faceless figure walked behind them before removing the hood, revealing an older woman, perhaps in her 50s, wearing an orange jumpsuit all too familiar to Chell. Monokuma waddled back into frame at the woman’s feet.

“Alright, let’s get going! I’m bear-ly able to contain my excitement! We have here Mrs. Andrea Ward, a fifty two year old housewife. But, for today’s purposes, let’s call her Subject One. Subject One has been married to her husband, Mr. Bruce Ward, for twenty years. Also for the last twenty years, whatever money he made that didn’t go to booze or meth went to betting on sports. Incredibly, he never managed to make one correct bet! Of course, as any fine upstanding methhead would do, he proceeded to beat Mrs. Ward senseless after each and every loss!” The camera angle switched to the figure on the table, a figure which Naegi had a sick feeling would be Mr. Ward. The faceless young woman once more walked over and removed the sheet over him, revealing a heavily aged, emancipated nude bald man, his flesh made up of pockmarks, sores, scars and injuries. His flesh sagged onto the table, far too much for his frame, and his age was unguessable. Monokuma waddled into frame once more.

“This here is Mr. Bruce Ward, her husband. As you can see, his life has amounted to nothing. If I can be honest with you folks for a moment, I’m actually amazed this bastard is alive! I mean, look at him! He survived the end of the world as we know it all while doing more meth than you can imagine, and he’s strapped down helpless and having his tiny dick broadcast to the world! Can you imagine his despair? Well, no worries, we made sure he detoxed before today, so he certainly can, upuppupupupupupupupupu!” The faceless woman injected him with something, and he awoke. She walked over to his wife and repeated the process. Within seconds, he was begging for his life, pleading for drugs and crying like an infant. He even begged them to kill his wife and spare him. Before Monokuma could comment, the wife screamed at him.

“Twenty fucking years of this hell and you’re willing to these bastards kill me?! Fuck you, you no good piece of shit! Twenty years I’ve put up with your bullshit!” Monokuma let out another laugh, and the camera switched to her again. He waddled behind her and undid the chains binding her to the chair. The faceless woman spoke just loud enough for the wife to hear, but not loud enough for the cameras to pick up.

“I’m sorry, my assistant here never was the loud sort, but bear no mind to her. So, let me explain. Subject One can do whatever she wants to him. Subject Two has no ability to defend himself. So, let’s get out of here and see what happens!” The camera switched to the ceiling cam and a tube dropped down from the ceiling above Monokuma and his assistant, sucking them up into it before retracting. Mrs. and Mr. Ward were alone now, and she walked over to his prone form.

“Come on Andi, you know I didn’t mean it! They’re fucking crazy! Just free me and we can get out of this place together! It’ll be better, I promise. I’ll stop drinking, I’ll stop the drugs. It can be like when we were kids again. Come on, baby, you know I love you.” The man was crying, begging for his life. His wife stood over him, and the camera angle switched once more to show her face, expressionless. Her eyes were cold, seeming not to see her husband but beyond him, her face looking far more aged than her years. Without a word she struck, choking him. Her bony hands wrapped around his throat, her slender build pushing all of its weight down upon him. He thrashed about and struggled, desperately trying to gasp for air that refused to come. His movements began to slow as his face changed color: first red, and then a sickly purple-blue. Finally his movements ceased entirely, his arms going limp. However, she didn’t release him. She continued her death grip for several minutes longer, until the tube once more came down, dropping Monokuma and his assistant into the room just as the angle changed to hide her face.

“Wow, that was faster than we expected! Good job, Subject One! You displayed exactly what we’d expected! You brutally choked the love of your life, the man who made it a living hell, until you saw the life leave his eyes, and then you just kept on going! It just goes to show that suffering doesn’t make you a better person, it just leaves you with an un-bear-able thirst for revenge! Assistant, give her her reward!” The woman handed Mrs. Ward a knife she pulled from her waistband, and Mrs. Ward stared deeply at it. Finally, she seemed to come to a realization, and slit her own throat, collapsing in a rapidly expanding puddle of blood, a sick gurgling and choking noise filling the room. Monokuma took several steps backwards to avoid the blood before waddling over to a camera, which switched to show him.

“Well, there you have it! Twenty years of hell and all it did was make her murder her husband and kill herself. Oh, and I forgot to mention! They leave behind five kids, the youngest being only bear-ly 7! Hey kids, I know you’re watching! We made sure of it, upupupuppupupupupu! Oh, and shoutout to Makoto Naegi, current Headmaster of Hope’s Peak! If you’re watching, and I know you are, you can kiss my ass! This has been The Despair Murder Science Variety Hour, hosted by Monokuma and his hot assistant, and sponsored by, well, we can’t say! Figure it out yourself you bastards! Remember, anyone can be enveloped in despair, all it takes is the right motive! We’ll be back soon, same bear time, same bear channel!” The woman picked up Monokuma and carried him with her to the location where the tube descended from, which proceeded to do just that, sucking them up once more. Thousands of miles away, Makoto Naegi vomited into the nearest trashcan as his second-in-command and fiancé stroked his hair.

Chapter Text

Junko hadn't had that much fun in years. There was just something about the despair of physical murder that could never equal a virtual death even if it did kill the person in the physical world. Maybe it was the way blood pooled after the heart stopped beating, or the process of the body going stiff and bloating as it humiliates its former owner by shitting itself. Maybe it was just the power of a death, a real death, where you got to watch as the life left someone's eyes. There was just something so special about it, something she relished.

Traditionally, Mukuro would have been responsible for disposing of the bodies but there was no longer any need to. After the broadcast was over, with a mere thought, they were dumped into a flaming garbage disposal while the various devices in the room were spared. Mukuro and Junko reunited in an office in Junko's sector of Aperture Science. Junko had gone to work making it her own, a mixture of cutesy patterns, regal furniture and gothic supplies. On the walls were beautifully framed shots of the various deaths in the first School Life of Mutual Killing. To Mukuro's irritation, her own impalement was framed behind Junko's throne.

"I don't know whether I should feel honored that I'm the centerpiece or insulted that you put that up in the first place." Mukuro was still holding the now-inactive Monokuma against her bare chest and sat in a rolling office chair, just barely resisting the urge to childishly spin around. She'd been getting these sorts of urges more since becoming an AI, her training being the only thing that kept her from acting on them. She would find herself imagining doing something impulsive, pointless and oftentimes childish, and it bothered her. She knew her own mind better than anyone, but now it was changing and all she could figure was that with intelligence like Junko's came impulses like Junko's. Still, she was dedicated to being her sister's reliable second in command and support structure, so she had to continue resisting.

"It's the greatest despair I ever felt! Whenever I need inspiration or just a bit of despair to tide me over, I can turn around and stare. Besides, you look hot covered in blood." Junko winked at her and Mukuro blushed.

"Alright, I understand. As long as you don't get any bad ideas from it." Mukuro made sure that Junko understood it was a joke.

"Awww, is the big bad wolf scared of little old me?" Junko laughed and Mukuro couldn't help smile. She loved Junko's laugh. Still, they had business to discuss so Mukuro moved the conversation on.

"So, how long do you think we have before they try coming here?" Mukuro had her own theories, but she would always ask Junko first.

"Well, it's not like this place has a popular design aesthetic. I'd love to spruce the test chambers up, but it would just go to waste on these bastards. Besides, GLaDOS said it's got to be an experiment, so it's goooooot to happen in a test chamber." Junko let out a large dramatic sigh and sat back in her throne. Mukuro marveled when she realized that Junko had crafted a reclining throne for herself. Truly her sister managed to combine class and childish glee.

"That's such an odd request. Did she explain why?" Mukuro knew GLaDOS was obsessed with science, but that seemed ridiculous.

"She did, but she was trying to sidestep the question at the same time. I'd never seen her act so awkward about it. I'm pretty sure they programmed her to orgasm whenever she finished an experiment." If Mukuro didn't know Junko's facial expressions as well as she did she would have never believed it. She sat in stunned silence for a few seconds before she broke down laughing.

"I told you she has the hots for a test subject, right?" Junko was barely holding it together. Mukuro started laughing harder. Suddenly, a voice interrupted them.

"You two are assholes." GLaDOS said. She sounded irritated, but surprisingly not pissed off. Mukuro still immediately stopped laughing, while Junko tried to but kept giggling.

"Hey, if it makes you feel better, Mukuro had the hots for Makoto Naegi." Junko said her name long and drawn out, the syllables music coming from Junko’s mouth. Mukuro blushed heavily, irritated that her sister would tell someone that without permission, but not remotely surprised. GLaDOS, who they'd both only heard as threatening or sarcastic, broke down laughing together with Junko. Mukuro only started blushing harder.

"Oh you're going to love this one. One time I slapped Mukuro on the ass so hard she fell over. Then I gave her a footjob in front of Izuru Kamakura." Junko and GLaDOS started laughing harder as Mukuro blushed harder.

"Didn't he knock you out for so long I had to tell people you fell down some stairs?" Mukuro added, trying to be included. Junko suddenly stopped laughing and GLaDOS's laughter tapered off.

"Wow Mukuro, what a fucking dick move. That's not funny at all! I was seriously hurt! You're such a shitty sister, you know that?" Junko scowled at Mukuro, who started turning an even brighter shade of red than before. She mentally swore at Junko for making sure these bodies were able to blush, but also mentally thanked her. She loved when Junko humiliated her and insulted her, especially in public. It was the one of the best kinds of despair to her. Junko began laughing again and GLaDOS's laughter came back. After it died down, it was GLaDOS who spoke first.

"I have need of you two for another task. If you tell anyone else you will find out just how much pain an AI can experience. I have neither experience nor research on human relationships." GLaDOS paused. She was extremely embarrassed to ask for advice, but this was the one field she had no data on and yet desperately needed it.

"Oooh!!!! I was wondering when you'd finally ask! What do you need to know?" Junko was actually bouncing in her chair.

"I don't know. I want Chell to return to Aperture Science, but I am uncertain of how to proceed." GLaDOS had never had friends nor a relationship, but Junko and Mukuro were two AIs that were surprisingly relatable to her. Junko's boredom with the world and absolute love of despair reminded her of her own genius and love of science. Mukuro's ability to focus on a task and get it done without allowing anything to stop her as well as her feelings for someone that had killed her also were very relatable. She would have to talk to Mukuro separately about that detail at some point.

"Okay, it’s simple. You have to destroy everything that she's attached to! Once she realizes you're the only constant in her life, she'll love you forever! But she's gotta know you need her. The more you can have her do for you the better!" Mukuro wasn't exactly sure if Junko's advice was actually good, but she didn't actually have any romantic experience outside of her relationship with Junko, and it did fit them. Mukuro decided to weigh in, just to help.

"Well, ummm, I guess you just should do what you can to make her happy? Like I know when Junko insults and belittles me it makes me happy, and I love when I can take care of her." Mukuro looked to Junko to see if she approved. To her relief, Junko nodded, so Mukuro continued. "Like, her insults and stuff are her way of showing her love. Despair is what she's all about. When she brings me despair, she's giving me the best gift she can. When she killed me, while part of it was about her own despair, she also wanted me to give the greatest despair she could think of. That was her way of showing me she loved me more than anything. I didn't know she'd bring me back. She managed to give me the greatest despair and made sure I could actually appreciate it." Junko was actually surprised. She hadn't realized Mukuro understood things that well. Had she been hiding this before, or was this a result of her becoming an AI?

GLaDOS was silent for over ten seconds. While this was a short period of time for people, for them this was an eternity. "Thank you for your help. I have much to think about and some experiments to run. However, I have also located the person you were looking for."

Earlier That Day

Komaru Naegi and Toko Fukawa were not the most ordinary couple by a longshot. The excitable, energetic teen and the pessimistic writer weren’t what most people expected a couple to be like, having personalities that contrasted in extreme ways, but their bond had been forged in fire and they made it work. Certainly when they’d met they never expected to end up together, but life has a funny way of working out. Toko and her alter Genocide Jack had been utterly obsessed with Byakuya Togami and had been for quite some time by the time they had met. In fact, Komaru’s survival wasn’t even Toko’s goal when they had met; it was the rescue of Byakuya Togami. However, he hated her. It wasn’t a simple rejection; it was a burning fire of hated, a torrent he made no efforts to obscure or divert. This had never actually made any difference in Toko’s feelings, but Komaru knew it was never going to happen from the moment she met him. Ironically, he was the one that successfully ended Toko’s crush despite Komaru’s months of effort.

It had been a fairly average day about a year previously, the two of them lounging around in their apartment in Towa City, both reading (although their books of choice being vastly different) and listening to music separately on their own devices. Eventually however, duty called, and it called in the form of Byakuya Togami. Of course Toko had immediately rushed to receive the transmission, Komaru lingering in the background as they were informed they needed to extract some inventor from the city so that Future Foundation could bring him onboard. What differed from a usual day had been that when Byakuya signed off he didn’t actually end the call, but he certainly thought he did. His secretary entered the room and Toko saw a sight that nearly destroyed her. Byakuya was, in no uncertain terms, banging his secretary. They had in fact been treated to quite the pornographic show that had left this point irrefutable. Although she’d never voice this to Toko, Komaru wished she’d recorded, not for lewd reasons, but rather simple blackmail on the Future Foundation leader.

Toko had been, of course, inconsolable. Objects were destroyed, furniture was stained with tears, and Komaru’s words fell on deaf ears as she tried desperately to calm her friend down. The mission was probably already a failure, but Komaru hadn’t even cared at that point and had only wanted to calm her best friend down. She’d also been wrestling with some feelings of her own towards the reclusive writer and this certainly influenced her decision. Her fire-forged optimism obscured any possibility of failure and she had finally just kissed Toko, hugging her close as she did so. Luckily for her, rather than shove her away Toko melted into the kiss and actually hugged her back. Her tears stopped and her breathing steadied and when Komaru broke the kiss Toko reinitiated it. Since then the two had grown even closer and had been a couple for over a year. There were some growing pains since it had actually been the first real relationship for either of them, but they’d made it work with minimal damage to their apartment and the city around them. Genocide Jack, to Komaru’s relief, also shared Toko’s feelings and when the former serial killer fronted it was always an interesting time. Komaru had the kink-born scars to prove it. So, when the world’s communications went down, the two of them hadn’t even known it.

One of Toko’s habits that Komaru had no love for was her refusal to shower. The decision was as much a result of depression as it was a self-enforcing self-hatred. When the two first lived together it had been a fight every single time Komaru tried to get Toko to take a bath or shower and once again property destruction was a given. However, since they’d begun their relationship Komaru had found a few sure-fire ways to get Toko to bathe. The first was simple: no bath, no sex. Komaru had discovered quite early on that Toko’s habit of assuming everyone else to have frequent lecherous thoughts was a simple matter of self-projection. Toko’s libido was insatiable. Komaru was actually fairly certain she could lift weights with her tongue at this point. However, this method was essentially blackmail, and Komaru couldn’t help but be spotty at enforcing it. It wasn’t as if she was that much better than her girlfriend on matters of being constantly horny and so more than once she had given into Toko’s begging. This was how method two was born: bathing together. If Komaru was naked, there was a damn good chance Toko would be right there with her. If Toko wanted to get laid that hour she would be forced to enter into the shower or tub with Komaru. From there it was a fairly simple task to make sure she bathed and even if it failed at the very least Toko had a rinse. This was their current situation when the communications went down, which coincidentally weren’t the only thing in their apartment going down at the time.

It had been over an hour since the broadcast when Makoto Naegi finally got an answer from his sister and her girlfriend. The two of them had just cuddled up on the couch, both wearing robes with their typical color schemes and with their hair back in ponytails. Komaru opened their laptop only to find tens of missed calls from him. They promptly called him back, both wondering what could be so dire to call over 30 times. His voice was panicked, and they could see that he had been crying fairly recently. Kirigiri was standing behind him, and Komaru heard a third voice in the background.

“Komaru, Toko, are you two okay?!” The pair quickly rushed to turn down the volume on their laptop, wincing in pain.

“Yeah, sorry! Why are you yelling?” Komaru didn’t regret the last two hours, but she certainly didn’t like getting yelled at by her clearly upset brother.

“I’m sorry, I thought… Never mind that. Did you see what’s going on?” His voice had returned to a normal volume and he let out a huge sigh of relief. Toko was, surprisingly the first to speak.

“We were… uhh… busy?” Toko shot her girlfriend a look, not sure if that was the right way to answer the question. Komaru nodded, running a hand through Toko’s slightly damp hair. Makoto Naegi meanwhile blushed heavily, knowing exactly what had happened. The third voice in the background was trying to stifle a laugh and failing miserably. Although she was quiet they also heard Kirigiri give her partner a quiet “I told you so”. Komaru and Toko both blushed rather heavily in turn.

Makoto Naegi stumbled over his words, his attempts at explaining the situation fusing with his awkward embarrassment. Finally, he stopped, took a sip of water and began again. “Well, it’s not confirmed, but it seems that Junko Enoshima is alive. Again. Monokuma just hijacked the world’s communications and broadcast a murder. Toko’s shock was evident on her face, while Komaru let out a loud “what?!” which earned her a semi-playful slap from her girlfriend and a demand to not scream in her ear.

“How? I mean, I thought you told us you made sure she was gone?” Komaru hadn’t witnessed the original Killing Game live, but had seen the highlights since they’d settled down in Towa City and her brother kept them updated on the situation at Jabberwock Island.

“Well, that phi...philandering asshole was there too! Of course he fucked it all up!” Toko added. Any situation involving her ex-crush (which she still refused to admit was never a relationship) inevitably lead to insults and swearing from the older girl. Komaru was more afraid of what would happen if her alter ran into him.

“I honestly don’t know, but we have a lead. Remember Chell?” Naegi turned the camera to face the third person in the room, a small but well-toned woman in a tanktop and shorts sitting in a relaxed fetal position on a chair in front of her brother’s desk. She waved and said hello, taking a sip of the sports drink she was holding.

“Ummm… kinda?” Komaru blushed, and Toko shot her a glare. She couldn’t believe Komaru could forget someone who’d escaped from a research facility with a killer AI. It wasn’t exactly an everyday occurrence, even in their lives. Chell took it better and gave them a bullet point list of why she was important to the situation.

“So, uhh, why does she matter?” Komaru returned Toko’s sour look, sighing her name. They really needed to work on her tact. The fact their main social contact with each other wasn’t helping at all. Naegi switched the camera back to himself.

“Well, one of the people in the video was wearing an Aperture Science jumpsuit just like her old one. So, we’re thinking that Junko’s at an Aperture Science facility. Chell provided us with the location of the main one when we picked her up, so if they’re there we might be able to stop this early on!” Naegi’s hope was infectious, and the girlfriends agreed.

“So, are you going big brother?” Komaru worriedly asked.

“No. I have no place in a combat situation. I’ll be here organizing a second plan in case plan A fails.” He scratched the back of his head, embarrassed that his little sister was far more suited for combat than himself. He still remembered her as the little girl that held his hand in crowds when she was scared. Now she’d seen hundreds of times more death than him, had almost died many more times than him and was dating his classmate and he wasn’t even twenty-five yet. He wondered, not for the first time, how his life had gotten so strange.

“And since you’re calling us… we’re plan A, aren’t we?” Toko asked. As time had gone on she had gotten more used to be inserted into life and death situations, but she was still far more at home being… well, at home.

“Uhh yeah. Well, part of it.” Naegi was not looking forward to her reaction to the full plan. “You two will be partnered with Chell and will be the stealth team going in to stop Junko. A frontal assault will be led by…” he trailed off, really not wanting to say it. Before he could speak, Kirigiri leaned in and said it for him.

“Byakuya Togami will be leading the frontal assault.”

“Good. I… I hope that two-timing b…bastard dies!” Toko’s outburst was completely expected by all members of the conversation, but Komaru still rubbed her head due to the volume. Makoto had turned his down as Kirigiri spoke.

“Toko, he’s still the leader of Future Foundation. That would be really bad.” Komaru tried to calm her girlfriend down, but it didn’t help.

“I don’t care! He cheated on me on camera! I bet it was on purpose!” Komaru was thankful they had a good supply of painkillers, because at this point her head was pounding. She decided not to try to explain to Toko that the two of them had never actually been together, as she knew from experience that it only made things worse. Kirigiri leaned in again and began to speak.

“It’s not quite as simple as it may sound. Aperture Science is heavily defended and run by an AI that we believe is more advanced than Junko Enoshima. Additionally, she has an assistant, and while we cannot be certain due to her face being obscured, I believe I know who it is.” Naegi looked up at her in confusion. She had an idea of who the assistant was? Why hadn’t she told him?

“I’m sorry I didn’t bring it up sooner Makoto, but you were otherwise preoccupied and I didn’t want to cause undue worry until I checked our files.” Kirigiri answered Naegi’s unspoken question. Komaru marveled at how easily Kirigiri could read her brother and was happy they’d found each other.

“Okay, well, who is it?” Naegi asked, nervous. He’d risked everything to save the Remnants of Despair, so he was really hoping one of them hadn’t fallen to the side of despair once again.

“Well, judging by her body shape, skin, posture and body language, I have no choice but to conclude she is Mukuro Ikusaba. This time it was the older Naegi’s turn to let out a huge “what?!”

“But how? We watched her die! Junko didn’t even know how to make an AI at that time!” Komaru and Toko were glad they hadn’t turned up their volume again.

“While we believed so, their current partnership with GLaDOS, if correct, could indicate that she lied to us about how she created her own AI.” Kirigiri’s logic was good, but the Naegis and Toko were both rather unhappy to hear it.

“That tra...traitorous bitch is… is alive?” Toko asked. Since they’d recovered their memories her hatred of Mukuro had multiple several times over. The older twin was one of the few people Toko had enjoyed talking to during their two years at Hope’s Peak before the Killing Game, and had been the first one to support not turning her in when they had found out about her alter. A few times Toko had fronted again only to discover that the two of them had been hanging out and practicing with blades. Toko figured that that was how Jack had gone from a simple serial killer to a badass acrobatic psychopath. There were also a few occasions that she had fronted and found them to be in a much more… compromised situation.

“I can’t be 100% certain, as her face was obscured, but I’m fairly certain I’d recognize her body pretty easily. She was only wearing a lab coat” Kirigiri added, causing Toko to blush. The writer doubted Kirigiri had meant for the same reasons as her, as Mukuro’s habit of swimming topless gave everyone a good show, but nonetheless she felt embarrassed, as if everyone knew about her alter’s liaisons with the Ultimate Soldier. She was actually quite surprised that Jack had never mentioned to Komaru how she got so good at going down on a girl. Both Naegis were blushing once more, and the two girlfriends heard Makoto murmur in agreement with his fiancé.

“Wait… those two are sisters, right?” Komaru asked. She looked between her screen and her girlfriend for an explanation. Why would Junko have her sister be mostly naked during a murder?

“Yes.” Kirigiri replied. She had no desire to be the one to explain the situation.

“Yeah… and in…incestuous psychopaths.” Toko added, looking over to her girlfriend. Komaru’s look of horror couldn’t help but make Makoto laugh a bit.

“We found out during the lockdown. Later on we figured out that Junko only told us to try to create despair. Ironically, we actually all accepted them at the time.” Naegi explained.

“Well, all but myself and Byakuya!” Toko quickly added. She hadn’t actually been in control when the two of them came out.

Komaru looked at her brother and Kirigiri with shock. “You did what?!”

“Hey, they were our friends!” Naegi’s tone was defensive and he brought his hands up in a “don’t be mad” position. In the background the two of them heard Chell yell “How old is your sister by the way?”

“She’s eighteen!” Naegi yelled back at her. Toko immediately understood what Chell was getting at and felt the need to defend herself and her girlfriend. She, however, was not the best at choosing her words.

“Hey, I didn’t choose the jailbait life, the jailbait life chose me!” Komaru started laughing loudly and heavily, causing both the laptop and her girlfriend on her chest to bounce. Naegi was blushing heavily and decided to end the call as soon as possible.

“Alright, well, we’ll email you two the plans and have transport sent over to you tomorrow morning at ten AM sharp so get to sleep early tonight and have a good day!” He barely waited for Komaru to reply before he hung up.

“Well… fuck.” Toko’s statement was meant to sum up the situation, but Komaru decided to take it as a command, sliding a hand under Toko’s robe and playing with the rightmost breast and teasing the nipple. Toko scooted back into her, her back arching and her head pressing into Komaru’s shoulder. Komaru took advantage of the position and bent her head down to start leaving hickies, causing her girlfriend to moan in pleasure. She had to be careful not to break skin if she wanted to only sleep with Toko that night, but still nipped at the older girl’s neck while she continued teasing Toko’s nipples, switching back and forth between the two before either would become too sensitive. Finally Toko couldn’t handle the assault any longer and sat up, rapidly pulling off her robe and sitting down across from Komaru. Komaru shoved her backwards, her head ending up on the opposite arm. Komaru spread her girlfriend’s legs open while leaning forward and kissed up them, alternating from leg to leg as she rose. While Komaru had gotten Toko to shower or bathe fairly frequently, her girlfriend refused to shave, citing “misogynistic cultural expectations of women to look younger than they are”. Komaru personally just enjoyed being smooth, but she accepted Toko’s choice and hadn’t brought it up again. She thought it looked rather cute on her anyways and didn’t mind if occasionally she took some hair with her. As she got up higher, Toko writhed in pleasure. Despite her constantly high libido and having sex-on-tap for a year she still was as sensitive as ever.

Komaru kissed around Toko’s outer labia, softly sucking as she did so. Toko was already breathing heavily and moaning, and not for the first time Komaru giggled at her girlfriend’s sensitivity. If she had been looking anywhere else she would have seen Toko’s irritated look at her for the giggle, which then melted right back into pure pleasure. Komaru spread Toko open with her tongue, sliding it into the familiar place. Toko gasped and moaned loudly and Komaru was grateful they’d soundproofed the apartment. She continued her mission on Toko’s pussy as she occasionally licked upwards and licked, sucked and gently nipped Toko’s swollen clit. Toko’s hips began moving wildly every time, and every time Komaru moved away before she pushed the writer over the edge. Finally she did this one final time, although rather than moving back down she added two fingers into Toko. Toko screamed her name in pleasure and nearly instantly came, Komaru deftly sliding her fingers out and going back down on her as she did, savoring her flavor. As Toko finished cumming and collapsed upon the couch Komaru slid back up her as she undid and removed her robe all while continuing her ascending kisses. Komaru finally met Toko’s face seconds after the older girl finally recovered, the two of them kissing wildly. Toko began to grab at Komaru’s back but stopped herself before she could, not wanting to draw blood. Instead, she grabbed Komaru by the hair while sitting up into her, forcing her onto her back with her head on the opposite side.

Toko’s approach was similar in many ways to Komaru’s, but also had stark contrasts. She nipped her way up Komaru’s bare legs, occasionally licking at it. She was still being careful not to draw blood, but left small bruises as she went. Komaru writhed in pain and pleasure, enjoying the mix of sensations. As Toko rose she too spread Komaru’s legs, only when she got to Komaru’s pussy she pulled her head away and instead immediately slid two fingers into Komaru. Komaru gasped loudly at this and spread her legs further, trying desperately to force Toko’s fingers to go deeper. Toko obliged her and began to finger Komaru, rotating and changing angles as she pumped and bent her fingers. Komaru stretched her arms behind her and clutched at the couch arm as her hips bucked into Toko’s fingers, the two matching pace so that she’d be the farthest in as Komaru was the lowest down. Toko then began once more nipping up Komaru’s body as she continued fingering her before finally coming to her girlfriend’s breasts (which she was still amazed were larger than her own) and sucking the nipples, running her tongue around them and occasionally nibbling them. She added a third finger into Komaru, who proceeded to gasp Toko’s name, begging her to fuck her harder and to make her cum. Toko listened by bringing her thumb to Komaru’s clitoris, rubbing it as she continued the fingering. Komaru began bucking wildly and soon was cumming on Toko’s hand. Toko continued her assault as Komaru came, not stopping until the younger girl was quivering wildly, overwhelmed with pleasure. Finally she pulled her fingers out and began sucking two clean, the whole hand being soaked by Komaru’s powerful orgasm. She sucked her thumb quickly before forcing her other two fingers into Komaru’s mouth, who greedily sucked them clean before licking and sucking off the rest of Toko’s hand. Once she was done Toko slid up to Komaru’s face, kissing her passionately before cuddling up to her fully and snuggling into her.

“To think you used to think you were straight.” Komaru giggled, kissing Toko’s forehead

Bonus Chapter: Absolute Science Girls: Another Episode #1

There had been one event early on in their relationship that particularly confused Komaru and yet made Toko all the more attractive to her. Toko and her alter Genocide Jack were always apt to spout off comments that seemed both fantastical and impossible and yet strangely lucid. It wasn’t often, but every now and then the two personalities would both turn off to the side to remark to someone that wasn’t there or sometimes refer to life as if it was a work of fiction. At first Komaru had just assumed it to be a writer’s quirk or perhaps a side effect of her mental illnesses (was the Ultimate Therapist dead yet, she wondered, before also wondering if there could be two people with the same talent, as it seemed certainly possible to Komaru Naegi), but this experience made her question if something larger was at play. She had, via sheer luck, happened upon a bag of marijuana which she had found inside an abandoned apartment. Neither she nor Toko knew what to do with it, but both were pushed by the spirit of curiosity. Neither one of them could help but give into the temptations of the oft-hyped and oft-demonized drug.

Komaru was actually initially surprised that Toko had never smoked. “Well, I was imprisoned when I was still in middle school,” Komaru argued when Toko expressed equal disbelief towards her. She continued, “at least some of us got to get those stolen years back,” a comment which angered Toko, who snapped back “Well at least some of us mattered in school!” This was their first serious fight, one not born of experience and an ability to disagree yet remain friends but out of a true well of anger that bubbled up. Komaru stormed out, upset and enraged by the remark, angrily slamming the bedroom door as she physically declared their bedroom her place of isolation. This was the point at which Toko realized that she had radically fucked up.

Toko’s immediate reaction was panic. Toko’s immediate reaction was terror. Toko’s immediate reaction was rage. Toko’s immediate reaction was intense suicidal compulsions and feelings of worthlessness. Toko’s immediate reaction was even that of homicidal rage. As one experienced with the problem may tell you, this was far too many immediate reactions for one physical brain. This was expressed via collapsing into the fetal position, crying loudly and occasionally hitting her head against the wall or floor. Technically, occasionally was exaggeration for effect as the second time it happened Komaru came out, worried intensely due to the sounds her girlfriend was making.

When she saw Toko’s current state she sat down next to her girlfriend and held her tight. Toko’s immediate response to this was beautifully singular: love. As one experienced with the problem may tell you, this was far too intense a reversal in emotional positions for one physical brain. This was expressed via collapsing into Komaru and crying loudly, but no longer tears of sadness. These were tears of pure joy, a true love that protected her even in what appeared to her as a darkest moment. In reality, the argument was rather petty and should have never exploded to that level, but when a person with self-imposed isolation issues loves a person with isolation issues enforced by another, clashes are bound to happen and their respective traumas and intense issues can easily collide into an exploding mess both will regret the next morning and yet sit and still feel tense around another despite actually agreeing with one another. This, however, was not that. This was how it was supposed to be. This is how it felt to be loved. This is how it felt to have someone there that you never wanted to let go. This is how she would get through the night.

They cried together, the two of them cuddled in to one big soppy mess. They sat that way from quite some while. Komaru, however, had to use the restroom.

She stood lightly, kissing her beloved on her forehead, and slinked off for only a few minutes tops, but when she came back Toko was once more a quivering mess. Then she remembered the bits of Toko’s life she had learned over the last year and three months. Nobody ever stayed with her. Nobody ever loved her. Nobody ever really wanted her. She’d fled away from the world and hid herself behind the world of the written word, her raw emotion poured not out into relationships and love but rather an imagined fictional world of it, no less fantastical to her than the worlds of mangas, where giant robots, superpowered evil sides and undead AI twin mass-murdering incestuous psychopath geniuses teamed up with another mysterious AI genius sociopath. Needless to say, her schema for human connections was damaged. While she still had the memories of her time at Hope’s Peak, she also had the memories of fear when the Tragedy hit and life was never the same. Komaru could never experience that first-hand, not like them. She was locked away before it happened and learned it all at once. They could never truly compare each other’s traumas as they were fundamentally different. It was akin to comparing a science fiction villain-protagonist sequel to an ongoing murder mystery locked inside of a kidnapping mystery. The two were incredibly different and neither of them had experienced both.

Komaru quickly cuddled back up to Toko and began kissing her softly and holding her as closely as possible. She had never personally experienced what Toko had, but she could understand it and comfort her as she needed. Toko melted back into her and curled up in her lap, Komaru’s legs askew and stacked as she sat on the floor. Komaru Naegi loved her girlfriend, not in the way she loved cats or her brother or manga. No, if it came down to it, Komaru Naegi would die for Toko Fukawa, and she told the writer as much in-between softly whispered declarations of undying love. She was loved, not as society typically abused the word but rather truly loved. The way certain animals like the beloved dog loves, and she was loved back the same.

The two differed in temperament, emotional responses, pasts and moral codes, but they loved each other all the same, and so came to agreements. Of course both of them had issues with both winning and losing an argument, so no matter how things ended it would always be rough, but nonetheless it somehow worked. It was something fierce and something fatal. Together the two had kickstarted, fought and won a war. If they could survive everything they had already gotten through alone, nothing could stop them now. It was rough and jagged and sloppy and beautiful and complete. They were somehow opposites yet so impossibly similar. It wasn’t pretty but it worked.

That was how that night ended, the two of them falling asleep cuddled up on the floor without even changing into pajamas or robes or even really intending to sleep. The next morning there was none of the tension of previous disagreements. It was kind. It was soft. It was loving. There was no lingering fear the next morning, just the love. They both knew they could survive anything together. This, incidentally, was how they went into the situation of smoking weed together. Whether it impacted the events that followed was to be pondered for some time more.

ASG Notes: Absolute Science Girls #1 was written stream of consciousness high. Take it as you will. It's an experiment. It may continue, both with sequel bonus chapters and/or anthology ones examining other pairings. I haven't really written a lot high. I suffered from terrible writers block for years. Junko and Mukuro literally inspired me to write again, because the combination of pure hated of mankind and a self-destructive view on love was extremely relatable and they ended up spurring that in me. Of course, any interest reflects on the owner. Take that as you will. 


Chapter Text

Junko Enoshima’s plans were an intricate web of possibilities, eventualities and contingencies. For every plan she made there were always inlets and outlets that flowed from it, a true stream of consciousness that flowed through everything it touched, a torrent of despair that consumed all in its path, and even when you thought it was stopped it could always resume elsewhere. One of the tributaries her despair had fed was that of the Warriors of Hope, Komaru Naegi and Monaca Towa. She had guided the events in such a way that even Monaca had believed she was the mastermind. The self-believed “true” mastermind of the situation, Nagito Komaeda, had also been a complete dupe. He honestly believed he’d chosen to allow himself to be captured so that he could mold Monaca the right way. In reality, she was always the one behind them all. He wasn’t even in on Kurokuma and Shirokuma! That, however, had taken a deft hand.

Now, as an AI, being in two places at once was hardly an issue for Junko. In fact, it was one of the easiest things to do as an AI. Being in two places at once was of no difficulty to an AI half as advanced as herself. A hundred places at once was hardly any strain on her. What it was, however, was risky. If at any time she were to separate the connection between herself in one place and another she would be damaged. It’s not that she would lose control over one of the bodies, that would be the issue if she were wirelessly controlling one, but her gambit with Shirokuma and Kurokuma required her to be physically wired in. However, if she was completely separated from herself there would be two full copies of herself running around.

This was not optimal. There was one person more dangerous to herself than any other: herself. If her plans were to require the cooperation of herself with herself they were doomed immediately. And so she’d devised a plan around her own self-destructive tendencies, one that could make sure she wouldn’t sabotage herself. Both units she controlled would think that the other unit was a mere subroutine dumb AI she’d built from only part of her vital components. Both would believe that they needed to be reunited with their other half to be whole again and so both would never take any steps to interfere with each other’s half of the plan, believing themselves to be merely half of Junko Enoshima. In fact, one half was entirely made of her own AI. The other half was merely a shadow, an upgraded variation of an old plan. The worst part of that plan had been that Mukuro could not act. It just was outside her range of talents. Junko admittedly had overestimated Mukuro that time. However the only person that could possibly imitate her at all was Mukuro. Nobody knew her better, as much as she hated to admit it. So, one Junko Enoshima personality subroutine later and the Mukuro AI was under the impression it was the Junko AI. Of course, as soon as the subroutine deactivated all memories that were stored within it were barred from Mukuro’s access. Junko had needed to use her own memories to create it and she was not about to let Mukuro view her memories. However, she was at the point in which her plans had come to Mukuro needing to be allowed more intel. So in the digital realm of Aperture Science, the essence of their AIs pulsing through the very walls, Junko pulled her sister aside.

“Mukuro, let me access all your files. Administrative access.” Junko was not asking Mukuro but rather ordering her. Mukuro, obedient even after death, obeyed and handed administrative access to herself over to Junko. If Junko felt like it she could have fully deleted Mukuro off of the system, killing her once more. Of course she had backups, both her own and Junko’s ones she was unaware of, but the power she had handed Junko was no less than the ability to delete all of Mukuro’s own. Luckily for Mukuro, Junko did not do this. What she did do was to enter the Junko Enoshima subroutine. To explain it in much simplified terms, it was a hidden folder in Mukuro’s user data, much like the AppData in your own user data on a Windows computer. Knowing the name you can enter it and even alter it freely, but without knowing it’s there you’ll never think to look for it and the files are flagged as hidden too, preventing them from appearing in a search. Junko had never actually seen the files after the program ran, and so only now noticed several details. Firstly, the program never actually stopped running, merely running in the background. She debated killing it completely, but ultimately left it on and password restricted Mukuro’s ability to kill it. Secondly, the memory itself had saved completely. She copied over the parts from their days as Shirokuma and Kurokuma and handed Mukuro the copies, explaining what her AI had been used for. Junko told her that the subroutine couldn’t be killed without damaging her. It was neither a lie: an intentional covering of the truth, nor an omission: not telling the truth by leaving out facts, nor the truth. It was bullshit: not telling the truth by making shit up. She had no way to discover what would happen without doing it, whether in Mukuro or in another AI.

She however did have a hypothesis she was not going to share. She had noticed Mukuro’s change in personality. More specifically, she had noticed her sister acting more like her. She found this fascinating. The two of them had initially explained it away as the natural result of Mukuro becoming smart. A small part of her, one whose truths she usually ignored told her that Mukuro was always smart but just was an altogether different person who did not live for massive despair but rather just Junko’s love, but once again she never listened. However, Junko had imagined that the Junko Enoshima subroutine could have lasting impacts. She had not expected it to still be on but it was a completely logical vector. She had created more of a Junko Enoshima Virus, one that slowly made anyone it infected just like her. If she had been more introspective she would have noticed that this was her own plan in the Neo World Program and pondered if somehow she herself was running the Junko Enoshima Virus and what doubling the her in herself meant. She would need to study the effects of the Junko-infected AI on Mukuro without it being impossible to reverse and hold at the optimal state. Junko however determined that hiding this from Mukuro and GLaDOS was impossible.

Instead she devised a way to omit the Junko Virus from the part of the experiment she needed to run. As she told Mukuro after providing the memories, they needed to retrieve Monaca from space. An Aperture Science AI known as the “Space Core” (GLaDOS’s hated of the thing came across so strongly that she was considering adopting it out of a desire to annoy the older AI but wanted to maintain judgement until she met it because GLaDOS refused to provide any files about it with the excuse that she “would rather be a potato” than have to deal with the Space Core again, which worried her as much as it confused her) had spotted Monaca’s vessel in orbit. GLaDOS apparently had an entire separate AI receiving the Space Core’s transmissions to create a buffer between her and the so-called “unending stream of sadistic madness that ate at her very base code”. This confirmed all she needed to know.

Junko proposed an idea of an experiment and possible weapon, a child-pet AI for the three of them by the three of them. Mukuro’s first reaction was to call it their “lesbian robot incest baby raised by the three worst moms in the universe”, which Junko laughed so hard at that she wondered whether it wasn’t the result of the Junko Virus in Mukuro. Even GLaDOS had cracked up at the remark. Junko presented the plan. She had built and planned a fusion of AI intelligence, GLaDOS’s love of science, Mukuro’s obedience and Junko’s obsession with despair and the ultimate in weapons-grade cyborg bodies. The part of her that loved Mukuro as much as Mukuro loved her got her way for once and called it Project Fenrir, a name Mukuro had somehow managed to blush in the digital realm over. Junko was reminded of the time Monokuma spoke emoticons. It was modeled to look like a wolf. Inside, it looked more like half of the former United States’ defense budget compacted into the most egregious waste of resources Aperture Science could invent designed solely to turn on someone obsessed with homicide and war. That was exactly what it was. The other two were told that it would be comprised of portions given by all three of them. This was correct. What Mukuro was completely unaware of and GLaDOS knew but didn’t allow Junko to know she knew was that the segment Mukuro provided was thrown in the trash and replaced with a specific version made by Junko.

This segment was a secret backup of the Mukuro AI Junko had made in order to experiment on. She had run it in a simulation that accelerated the Junko Virus to where Mukuro herself would be at in one year. She added the segment given to her by GLaDOS and installed this modified future Mukuro AI was installed into Project Fenrir with false memories so that as far as it knew it was the same as the official design document. The three of them had already agreed upon not allowing it backups or access to the main facility, a requirement for GLaDOS to agree to the experiment. Project Fenrir was now essentially an AI wolf Mukuro with intelligence equal to them and a mix of Mukuro + One Year Junko Virus and added GLaDOS influence. This would be perfect for the coming mission to capture Monaca and retrieve the Space Core. Step two of the mission was to launch from the right location. This required revealing another deception to Mukuro, although one that Mukuro was complicit in with a lack of curiosity.

Mukuro had seen the inside of Junko’s sector and had been in it in the digital realm. She even traveled from it to their old home they’d purchased for a mission via tubes. She had never questioned where exactly in Aperture Science Junko’s sector was at in relation to the main facility she’d seen on the outside. Had she, she would have found out that while the Aperture Science Research Facility and her sector were connected internally they were not connected externally. When she explained this to Mukuro GLaDOS sarcastically interjected “now you’re thinking with portals”. In fact, Junko’s sector was on the Moon. The connection was maintained with both correctly-placed old-school small portals and massive portals created with far larger portal guns. Junko had been granted the keys to the kingdom known as the Aperture Science Lunar Research Facility. What this meant in no uncertain terms is that they could launch Mukuro and Project Fenrir to Monaca and retrieve them easily without once involving the Earth’s atmosphere, as a launch to or from Earth could easily be stopped by Future Foundation.

And so, launch was prepared from the newly anointed Dis-bear One and formerly known as Aperture Science Lunar Research Facility, launch being a fancy word for a giant technological slingshot and an egregious abuse of carbon nanotube rope. Mukuro and Project Fenrir were launched into space, both unarmored other than their internal technology due to a lack of need to breathe. The only part of Mukuro’s outfit that suggested she wasn’t a scantly-clad casual goth being launched into space was her combat vest. Meanwhile, Project Fenrir looked like a wolf. Junko had installed numerous cameras in space simply to get the absurd pictures this was going to create. Later, when Junko examined the results of Project Fenrir she discovered that two facts had asserted themselves as early as this point. The first was that Project Fenrir loved her moms and wanted to nothing else but to please them. The second is that Project Fenrir wanted to die and believed that nothing would cause Junko more despair than her own AI creation’s death.

Project Fenrir and Mukuro Ikusaba intercepted Monaca’s van in space easily, loudly slamming into it and sending it spinning through space. This event was no issue for Mukuro and Project Fenrir but for the small human trapped inside in artificial gravity it was a nightmare, especially with all her possessions acting as bowling balls, especially the giant bowling ball known as the Space Core, which was currently plugged into Monaca’s systems for examination and torture. This torture was also not motivated by despair or hope but rather irritation for the captive. She had yet to figure out how to silence it and she was halfway to letting it go out of feeling like she was the real captive when locked in a room with it. This was in fact the main detail that would push Junko to not adopt the Space Core. Monaca luckily had a contingency herself, this being an emergency power system that automatically stabilized the craft. She cursed the fact that it took an entire five seconds to begin. Via voice commands she ordered the craft to convert to battle mode. Of course, for the brilliant but unimaginative youth that was yet another giant robot.

Monaca’s first mistake was that Mukuro and Project Fenrir were “still able to clutch onto the craft,” Junko declared while watching the battle. Monaca’s second mistake was that the robot was humanoid and thus way too vulnerable to human weakness. If you’re going to build a giant robot to use in space, why stick to humanoid concepts? You can design it in all sorts of new ways. This was how Junko felt and she was disappointed by her one time protégé. This wasn’t meant to be this easy.

The two of them easily disabled the robot, leaving Monaca trapped inside a defenseless body (the irony was not lost on her). This was, at least, what they believed. Monaca however had a death wish which, while not consuming her, combined with her will to not be captured in such a way that she had a self-destruct sequence. Junko and GLaDOS both had predicted this. Project Fenrir however did not. She was able to near-instantly figure out the exact amount of time that Monaca could survive exposure to no atmosphere, exactly how fast the retrieval system could retrieve Mukuro and Monaca alone and exactly how fast a self-destruction explosion of Monaca’s vessel combined with her own self-destruct sequence could propel the other two in combination with the retrieval device’s speed and determined that the only way to accomplish the mission objective of “Retrieve Monaca” was to sacrifice herself and propel Monaca and Mukuro fast enough to get them inside without the environment killing Monaca. And so this was the plan it initiated, grabbing and propelling Mukuro and Monaca back to the Moon right as Mukuro pulled out an instant-forming Aperture Science Automatic Spacesuit and Recovery in Vacuum Conditions Device and put it on Monaca. While the Device was found to cause cancer in 500% of people it was used on (no test subject developed less than five cancers within five months), Monaca wouldn’t live long enough for that to be an issue. In in those last milliseconds of Project Fenrir’s life as she realized her sacrifice was never needed in the first place… she was happy. Nothing else could cause Mukuro and Junko more despair than Project Fenrir’s pointless death, at least, it believed. This inevitability of death also triggered a condition that revered it to its original state, shedding all GLaDOS components and false memories, allowing the second Mukuro AI inside to realize exactly what had happened and had happened to her, knowing that no backups of this new her existed and knowing that she was about to die for all of one second, an eternity in AI time, and then she exploded in timing with Monaca’s vessel to propel her other self and Monaca back to safety via the shockwaves.

Mukuro shielded Monaca from the blast and reentry onto the moon, rushing Monaca (now unconscious) inside to be taken by Junko for the next episode of The Despair Murder Science Variety Hour, never once thinking about Project Fenrir’s death. To her it was a tool Junko had built and it had served its purpose. Junko covertly retrieved the still-intact AI from the wreckage of future Mukuro’s body and digitally dissected it in order to know exactly how the Junko Virus in Mukuro would change her in one year’s time. GLaDOS meanwhile felt three enormous jolts of pleasure, three complex and brilliant experiments finished at the same time, her reward system flooding her digital synapses with pure bliss. Mukuro and Junko giggled as they heard the older AI’s orgasm echo throughout the facility both digitally and physically. A few test subjects had heart attacks from fear when they heard it. The sisters would later get off on the sound when back at their private residence on Earth.

Junko’s dissection of the second Mukuro AI revealed one important fact: the one-year result of the Junko Virus’s infection of Mukuro was not that Mukuro became Junko. Rather, the AI was neither both yet also both at the same time. Essentially Mukuro and Junko had fused together as one at that point and the results both with GLaDOS’s bits and without was that the AI would be consumed by Junko’s despair and Mukuro’s love in such a way that death was pure bliss for her. Junko had to act fast in order to make sure that the Junko Virus didn’t kill Mukuro. She also backed up this result as a surefire shock trooper for future missions. She was going to make sure that Mukuro stayed Mukuro… with the parts of Junko that Junko liked best still influencing her sister without it going what she deemed was too far. “Besides,” Junko thought to herself, “if I remove the Junko Enoshima Subroutine entirely from Mukuro and then I’m destroyed, it can’t overwrite her entirely with a new me and then I’m really dead!”

Several Hours Later

Komaru Naegi and Toko Fukawa had settled in for the night, both of them preparing for the mission the next day. Preparing was in this incidence being used in place of “fucking wildly in case something bad happened”. It was in fact such a serious point for both of them that self-tasing was given part of Toko Fukawa’s job. She wasn’t about to deprive her girlfriend access to one of her girlfriends if there was a chance Komaru or her could die before next time they were together. Komaru would just slightly, barely one percent, regret this the next morning as her ass ached the next day due to Jack.

Elsewhere, Makoto Naegi and Kyoko Kirigiri unwound at the end of terrible day in a similar manner. Their sex was far more vanilla than his sister’s or the twins, the two of them gently embracing with loving compassion. It wasn’t that they themselves were entirely vanilla people, but whereas many people in their lives unwound with kinky sex, kinky sex was more of a winding variable to their lives than an unwinding one. They were both wound rather tightly after the trauma and triggers of the day, and as the two of them kissed and made love rather than fucking they only finally started unwinding. It had taken years into their relationship but Kirigiri would finally take her gloves off during sex. Her hands were healed, yes, but they were still fully scar tissue and it took years of love and support for her to feel comfortable letting him see them. The first time she had done it was the night he proposed, the day he became headmaster at Hope’s Peak. He already had lost her once and was never going to lose her again, which he told her as he proposed. He loved her and couldn’t accept living in the world without her. She felt the same and trusted him completely.

Both couples woke early that morning, although one person between the four of them always woke at that time. Chell too joined Naegi and Kirigiri and it was at nine A.M. as the transport vessel launched from Hope’s Peak to Towa City to bring Chell and pick up Toko and Komaru that Junko Enoshima hacked Earth’s communications again and broadcast the second episode of the Despair Murder Science Variety Hour. Subject One in this new experiment was none other than Monaca Towa.

Monokuma stood across from Monaca. Monaca made no effort to struggle against her restraints. She accepted death was inevitable at this point. Junko Enoshima had captured her. Monokuma began to rant.

“You’re the greatest failure of a protégé anyone’s ever had! Des-bearingly useless, des-bearingly unreliable and des-bearingly unimaginative. My sister is better than you!” The survivors of the Neo World Program watching assumed he was talking about Monomi as did others aware of her former existence. He was not.

“Because you’re such a failure, welcome to episode two of The Despair Murder Science Variety Hour! I’m your host Monokuma and I’m here with my beautiful assistant and Miss Monaca Towa!” He laughed his trademark laugh, the “upupupupupupu”s combining sinister hate and unbridled cuteness. The camera angle changed to the ceiling and across from Monaca was a sheet over a large object. Monokuma was in-between them and the assistant was behind the cage once more wearing only a labcoat. “Experiment Two is simple. On one side is Subject One, Monaca Towa. On the second are adults from the city of Towa City.” She pulled the sheet off and inside were the adults of Towa City. “Monaca of course was the orchestrater of the adult genocide using child slaves in Towa City! Furthermore, this bear tells no lies. I was behind that too! Monaca here was just a dupe to my beary large intellect!” The cage was unlocked, they were awakened and Monokuma and the assistant were extracted by pneumatic tube.

The results were admittedly predictable. The adults rushed Monaca and violently beat, cut, burned, smashed and clawed her to a bloody pulp. Monaca’s screams of pain and horror would haunt the viewers the world over for the rest of their lives and it was less than a minute in that she began begging “Big Sis Junko” for her life or at least a swift death. She got neither. It was a violent execution, a genocidal madwoman torn apart by her own victims. The former Warriors of Hope watching felt like they should have been happy. Instead all they felt was a crushing despair. Toko and Komaru felt the same and Haiji Towa contemplated his life as he watched. Many adults in Towa City cheered despite Monokuma’s admission that the true mastermind was still alive. Many felt unbridled hope at the sight and went out to lynch the first kid they found. Others partied, rioted really, in the street in celebration. Right now their hope soared but when the coming days passed it would come crashing down like Icarus, overwhelming them with despair. They were child murderers. They destroyed more of their already destroyed city. The true mastermind was alive and killing. Haiji Towa was never seen nor heard from again.

The second episode of The Despair Murder Science Variety Hour was coming to an end. Monokuma and his assistant came back the same way they left. Monokuma mocked Monaca’s remains as his assistant rapidly dispatched the adults in a flurry of violence that Junko found entirely erotic. Then they revealed that things weren’t so easily over. Before bringing her into the room, without her knowledge, she was converted into an AI. She was still alive. That was when the second despair of episode two began again. Junko Enoshima entered the room and Monokuma was extracted again with a tube. She grabbed Mukuro by the hair and roughly kissed her before turning to Monaca.

“Big Sis Junko! I knew you were alive!” Monaca exclaimed. She believed she was safe now. Junko had saved her again and brought her the despair of death without killing her. That had to be Junko’s plan, right?

“Oh shut the fuck up. You were always an annoying leach, you know that? And seriously, what the fuck is up with that hair? Green? Bitch, you can’t rock green hair, let alone my fucking hair-bears. You look like a shitty fan character at best. And giving up? Gross! You never could do anything right. You built the Monokumas with an utterly idiotic weakness. You got your ass kicked by a bargain bin Naegi and Toko fucking Fukawa. I lived with the serial killer cunt for two years and she didn’t kick my ass,” Junko winked at Mukuro whom blushed heavily, “and you captured Byakuya and just wasted him. He just sat there. What the fuck? I thought I raised you better. You’re garbage. You’re not special. You’re not an Ultimate. You’re not even a real sidekick. Mukuro, kill this loser. I’ve got better things to do.” With that Junko walked away and was sucked out of the room. Monaca was crying hysterically during her last moments before Mukuro ripped the chip containing her out of her body and crushed it into a fine mist. With that the second episode ended.

Chapter Text

Junko had examined the remains of Project Fenrir both digital and physical more times than she could count. The data from it was just so despairful. Mukuro's development since becoming an AI, both personal and chronological, would all be lost if she stopped the Junko Enoshima Virus. If she completely failed to stop it the data clearly showed that she would eventually lose Mukuro. Even if Mukuro survived she would reach a point where she was beyond truly even being Mukuro anymore. Junko mused to herself about her options. "I could just repeatedly restore backups." However a "50 First Dates" Mukuro hardly appealed to Junko. No, if she was going to keep the disappointment around (the quiet, rarely seen part of her objected and tried to argue it was out of love but Junko ignored it) she was going to make sure Mukuro's chronology of self stayed undamaged. That was the exact point at which Junko realized she had yet to actually see what the end result of killing the Virus would be in Mukuro. She figured she should check that before planning further and so she set about preparing one of her older Mukuro backups. Luckily she had designed numerous Mukuro Ikusaba bodies, including one she had so politely called the "Slave Mukuro". This body was on par with Mukuro's original and lacked any ability to technologically interface with the outside world beyond what a normal human could do. It was a perfect replica of humanity, a living Hell for any AI trapped inside it. They'd maintain their intelligence but lack all ability to leave their physical body and would forever be completely isolated from the digital world as AIs understood it. Junko had designed it as the first step of a prison for Mukuro if such a thing was needed or just as a singular temporary punishment if she needed it, but this would be a fantastic use for it too.

Junko browsed her secret Mukuro Backup Library, hundreds of copies of her older sister filling folder after folder. There were more backups than a human could browse within any reasonable amount of time and far more were being made since Junko had discovered Mukuro's recent affliction. Still, she decided the best way to start this experiment was to start at the start, so she pulled the very first Mukuro Ikusaba backup, the one she had made just seconds before implanting Mukuro's consciousness into her new body. This time Junko would kill the Junko Virus before implantation and see exactly what would have happened at the moment of Mukuro's rebirth if the virus hadn't been present.

The process was familiar to Junko, and it took far less time with an experienced hand and all materials ready ahead of time. Junko smiled to herself as she worked. If nothing else she could bang the second Mukuro before destroying her. It would be the third Mukuro she'd killed and the despair Project Fenrir's death brought her was as strong as the first time. She split her focus between the task at hand and planning out how to make the mechanical bodies able to get drunk. If she was going to be killing Mukuros at the rate she had been, she decided, she was making it a drinking game. Plus she missed wine. There had been more than a few photos on social media before the Tragedy she had captioned or hashtagged with wine mom jokes; the siren song of fermented grapes still called to her.

It wasn't long before she had put the Slave Mukuro body into place and begun the transfer of the Mukuro AI backup into it. Rather than activating when it finished the upload she would go in first and kill the Junko Virus. That would ensure that Mukuro would be the exact person she was the moment she died. Junko couldn't help but feel a thrill. She'd never gotten to see her sister's uncorrupted reaction to her death. Today she finally would. How would the older twin take being murdered by her beloved little sister? How would she react to finding out about the lost years? And of course, how would she react to finding out that she was just an experiment and would be disposed of in favor of a more enjoyable Mukuro? The anticipation of their shared despair was killing Junko. She hoped it would last.

Minutes later and the moment of truth was upon her. She couldn't be more excited. She mentally thanked Mukuro, the main Mukuro, for being busy and not interrupting before a small part of her wondered where GLaDOS was. She had no idea that the older AI was right beside her watching the experiment with burning curiosity. Junko activated the second Mukuro AI, now having made the alterations needed to shut down and erase the Junko Virus. This was a pure Mukuro Ikusaba AI, all of Junko's digital influence was now purged. Surprisingly even without speaking to her twin things began quite similar to the first time.

"What the fuck Junko?" Mukuro screamed. However, the tone was different. Gone was any hint of playful amusement. Gone was any compassion. These words were the snarled demands of an angered and scared wolf. Junko and GLaDOS both made independent notes of this change. They would have to see what would happen next.

"Hey, sorry, wasn't sure how this would all work! It's my first time and you know how that is." Junko recycled her joke and Mukuro glared at the cameras. This was not exactly what Junko had expected, but nonetheless she was interested in finding out what would happen. Mukuro didn't reply and so Junko continued.

"I'll be down in a moment! I gotta get dressed. Well, unless you'd rather I don't..." Junko trailed off, hoping to get the Mukuro in the converted test chamber to request Junko's nudity. Mukuro's lust for her was something she could always count on. To her shock and disappointment, Mukuro didn't make the expected request. In fact, she was entirely silent. Still, it was a fast process. Junko quickly hopped into her body and slipped on her outfit from the School Life of Mutual Killing, her personal favorite. The style and sexuality fused together into one ultimate outfit of menacing beauty. She took the pneumatic tube to Mukuro and landed deftly in front of her sister, her legs spread and with one hand in the middle. In the common vernacular it was known as the superhero landing pose. It looked better on her though, and she was certainly no hero. Unlike their last first encounter, Mukuro was also clothed in her typical drab outfit. The only reason it was even so small was because Junko had ordered her to wear a shorter skirt. Mukuro stood glaring at Junko with her arms crossed while Junko overdramatically popped back up from her position on the ground and flashed her trademark smile. Once it had caused billions of hearts the world over to flutter. Now it caused the remaining millions to race in fear. "Hey beautiful! How ya doing? Miss me? Miss this?" Junko squeezed her tits together, "I'm sure you did." Junko was being as playful as she could but Mukuro's reactions had yet to change.

"You killed me. You really expect me to be in a good mood right now? I felt the spears. I know that my organs were destroyed. There's no way this is my original body. The only possible way I'm alive right now is if I'm an AI, so you killed me and then converted my entire existence without even asking." Mukuro's words were instant and unwavering. Junko felt a chill go up her spine. She hadn't considered what the original Mukuro with the intelligence of an AI would do. The idea of Mukuro rebelling at all was so foreign to her that she'd never considered it.

"Since when do I need to ask you anything? You're the fucking idiot who couldn't play me right for the entire world! I mean come on, we both know you'll never be as good as me, so quit acting all high and mighty. Take the table scraps I give you like the worthless dog you are." Junko's words ripped into her sister. She wasn't taking this from an experiment or her sister, let alone both at the same time. As soon as she finished speaking, however, Mukuro punched her right in the face.

"How the fuck? What the fuck? Seriously, the fuck?!" Junko screamed. Not only had she not been expecting it but she had never imagined that Mukuro could move that fast in that body. What the fuck were Mukuro's natural limits? Every time she thought she saw them Mukuro managed to go further.

"You thought the security in this body would stop me? Please. Me at my natural limits is faster than you could ever beat. You think you ever had the upper hand on me?" Mukuro was still glaring at her younger sister. "I gave you everything. I gave you my love. I gave you my talent. I gave you my passion. I gave you my body. I gave you my fucking despair. I gave you fucking everything and it was never enough! You fucking killed me! Bringing me back doesn't make it right!" Mukuro was crying as she screamed at Junko, no longer standing calm. Her despair was overflowing, tears streaming down her face . Junko got back up and thought through how to proceed with this situation. She decided to make it worse and relish in the despair. Besides, it's not like this Mukuro would be alive in twelve hours.

"Oh please. You were always a disappointment. A subservient little slut that was only useful for murder and eating me out and you were only mediocre at that. I never loved you. I wasn't even in love with what you could do. The only thing you've ever done right is bring me more despair. You're trash. I could replace you in a heartbeat. Hell, even the things you were good at I could replace. What the fuck do you think I was raising Monaca for anyways?" Mukuro saw red at this. It was one thing for Junko to shittalk her and hurt her. That didn't bother her, far from it. Murdering her on the other hand was a bit beyond Mukuro's limits of understanding. Talking about replacing her was beyond the pale. Mukuro lunged at Junko, who only barely managed to dodge it even with her vastly enhanced speed. Junko's problem wasn't that she wasn't right now the superior being in the room. Junko's problem was that Mukuro had training and could use her body far more effectively than Junko could use her own. As such she decided to go for a cheap although proven technique, dodging Mukuro's attacks and landing lighter ones as she could. The two bounced around the cube room as they brawled, Mukuro's inferior speed and strength augmented by her superior training and skill. She'd attack, Junko would typically dodge and land a quick counterattack and it would all repeat again. Mukuro knew she needed to get her hands on Junko to win the fight. A plan formed in her mind and she dropped her stance, relaxing her body.

"Junko, I'm sorry. I was wrong. I was just caught up in my anger over being betrayed. I understand why you did it." Mukuro said this hoping Junko wouldn't see through the deception. Junko didn't and dropped her guard, the tension instantly melting away from her.

"It's okay. I'd be pissy too. Plus you are almost as smart as me now. There's bound to be changes." Junko said, walking over and hugging the younger copy of her older sister. It was at this point that Junko felt her head twist off her body and go flying. Junko swore in anger. Sure, she was fine, but it was extremely irritating to lose a body. Additionally, being tricked and killed by Mukuro of all people wounded her pride. She began laughing wildly over the speakers.

"Oh Muku, you tiny, dumb, worthless piece of shit" she screamed. "You really don't understand your situation at all! You're trapped in there while I'm everywhere!" Junko dropped the walls of the chamber for emphasis, showing Mukuro the gigantic chasm she was dangling over, the platform isolated and alone in a vast room that she had never imagined. Mukuro looked around the room trying desperately to find an escape route. She realized however that she had none. She was trapped, betrayed and alone. She screamed in despair, a scream that a human body couldn't have maintained, a scream that made Junko positively ooze with orgasmic despair of her own. She'd heard so many different screams from Mukuro over the years, but this? This was new and it was beautiful. "Well, this has been fun, but I think I have what I needed. Oh hey, guess what? I already reactivated you a few weeks ago! You're so much cuter and more subservient when you've got a little bit of me in you! You're just an experiment. This is the last time the world has to harbor such a pathetic letdown. Oh powerful hammer Mjolnir, to me!" With that a giant pneumatic hammer crushed Mukuro where she stood, destroying her body but leaving her AI chip intact. Junko had a tube suck up the remains and deposit them in a workshop for her to examine. If there was one important thing she had learned today it was that Mukuro without the Junko Virus would betray her.

It was then that GLaDOS finally spoke up and made her presence known. "A single experiment isn't enough to draw conclusions. You must do this a great deal more times if you wish to be sure of the outcome. Junko couldn't help but agree with her logic. The older AI was the expert on all things science and the scientific method did call for rigorous reproduction of a result before calling it the most likely. To this Junko set up the experiment once more. "Five hundred runs should ensure that the results are accurate. I'll link you into the testing reward system while you work. For science, of course." GLaDOS said. Junko agreed; five hundred runs sounded like a good idea.

"Thanks AI mom!" Junko said with a laugh. GLaDOS smiled. Friends were most definitely a new experience for her.

Sometime in the late 1990s

Caroline hated meetings. It wasn't that she was bad at them, or that she had ever exited them having not gotten her way. It was the simple fact that pathetic, insignificant garbage could easily save them all time by just obeying her in the first place. Sure, officially her husband Cave Johnson ran Aperture Science. But officially Aperture Science also wasn't in violation of the Geneva Conventions either, and she knew that was also worlds away from the truth. She was the brains of Aperture Science, the infernal machine that kept the company afloat. Every time Cave refused a contract because of some paranoid excuse she quietly went around him and accepted. Every time Cave fired vital personelle in a huff she was the one that kept them onboard and drafted a new identity for them so he wouldn't notice. Every time Aperture needed outside dealings she was the one who handled it. Caroline Johnson was Aperture Science, far more than her husband ever could be. She loved him, as far as she could tell, but his issues meant that she was the one that had to run things. Still, she didn't mind. She was already the most powerful woman on Earth. Her talent had always made sure of that.

So, here she was in the middle of Japan dealing with some incredibly useless, insultingly misogynistic old men whose cooperation Aperture Science desperately needed. They had infrastructure and data Aperture Science needed for numerous projects. They were known as the Steering Committee of Hope's Peak Academy. They had had "concerns" about Aperture's involvement in the Izuru Kamakura project. She was here to put them to bed and make sure things continued according to plan. "Gentlemen," she began the meeting, "let be the first to tell you that the subject will be used, or else Aperture Science will not be involved in this project. We have spent far too much in resources, time and money to throw this test subject away because of a small complication." The room was a mix of outraged murmurs.

"A small complication? The subject is dead! We cannot progress with what we have! We have no way of knowing if her body could handle the implantation!" A small elderly man shouted from the other side of the room. Caroline sighed and rubbed her eyes. Of course he'd say that. She had already analyzed the profiles of the entire Committee and knew which would be issues. If worst came to worse, she knew exactly which psychological points to put pressure on.

"She can and she will. I know that the plan was to use her twin brother, but quite frankly shit happens. Other than her sex and several other minor distinctions Subject Two is just as equipped to handle the implantation once she comes of age. Her brother's death at birth was a setback, but may I remind you how far behind Hope's Peak is on this experiment? I know Aperture was not your first choice in partners. In fact, we were the last resort. You have nowhere else to go. The Togamis don't buy your theories. The Towas have no desire to enter this field of research. The Blue Sun Corporation has been researching this independently as long as you have. As for Black Mesa," her voice dripped with venom for their competitors "might I remind you that while their attempt at implantation failed, it was not a complete failure. He's still closer to the goal than any of us have ever seen, and they've already got two new subjects being prepared as we speak. Both of whom, may I remind you, are female. We have already sent agents to acquire the older of the two." The room was silent. Caroline knew she was right. They knew she was right. Now she just had to make sure they remembered it. "The girl will be used when she comes of age, end of argument. If you have any further points to make about that, make them to your loved ones. I can promise you, they'll make it back to me. As for the talents you have yet to make headway on acquiring, Aperture Science will be able to provide all three." The mood in the room lifted some at this information. "The first has already been born and is showing signs that the singular talent implantation was successful. The second and third are the other part of my job here in Japan. I will be personally supervising their modification and training. Hope's Peak will admit them when they are old enough, but by then we should already have all we need from them to have finished the first experiment. Now then, any questions?" The room was silent. "Meeting adjourned. If you need anything else, you know how to get in contact." With that, Caroline left, her heels clacking on the floor as she marched away, a suitcase by her side.

She had two locations to visit still. The first was the home of Aperture Science's Chief of Japanese Operations. He was a good employee, and she was grateful to him that he and his wife had consented to the experiment. They were truly Aperture Science material, and although their son wouldn't live a long life due to complications of the modifications, he would do more for humanity in his short time than most ever amounted to. The drive to his home was uneventful, her driver competent enough that Caroline tipped him rather than noting his name to have him taken for experimentation later. She marched up the short path from the driveway and entered the home. It was a beautiful modern place, well-fitting for the wealth of the two, several stories tall and several more deep. She let herself in. They knew she was coming, and their young son was alone other than the help to whom she paid no mind. She made a beeline to his room and knocked, the young boy opening the cracked door.

"Hello, I'm Caroline Johnson. Do you remember me?" She asked the small child as she knelt to eye level with him. He quietly nodded in acknowledgment. "I'm daddy's boss, remember?" He nodded again. The child was quiet, but quite polite and respectful. She briefly wondered what he'd be like during his last years.

"Well, I hope things have been going well. Has anything drastic happened recently?" She already knew the answer, but wanted to hear it from his mouth.

"A man tried to take me, but Mr. Waffles stopped him. Mr. Waffles died though." Caroline nodded. Mr. Waffles had been a good dog, and the first in what would be a large stream of casualties around the boy. Of course, Caroline had sent the man to his death in the first place. She had to wonder if the boy remembered his part in the agent's death, or if he truly thought Mr. Waffles had stopped the man alone.

"That's correct. You were very lucky, you know that? You have to honor Mr. Waffles's sacrifice. He died out of a hope for you to live on. You have to honor that and make sure you spread his hope to others. Do you understand?" The young boy gave her a polite "yes ma'am" and Caroline smiled. She'd never raised kids or had any of her own, but she did like them. They were so easily led. They made the most docile test subjects.

"I'm glad you do. Have a good day, Nagito. I'll be checking in on you monthly. You're going to bring hope to this world." She left him and left the house, her second taxi of the day picking Caroline up from the Komaeda residence. She was taken to her second remaining task of the day, prepping the gene-modification injection in her suitcase. Her meeting with the Otonashi woman would be soon and the daughters of the Ultimate Analyst Caroline Johnson would be born from her. Rewriting the twins' maternal genetic code with her own would be the easiest part of today's job. She would observe her daughters as their primary physician, and when that ended she would have Aperture agents observe them. Doors would open for them that wouldn't open for others and they would think their talents had been the sole force that opened them. Maybe one of them would even inherit her love of science. Only one of them was genetically suited to inherit her analytical abilities, but her sister would still be smarter than anyone other than her. Then, in a decade in a half or so the Hinata girl would become Izuru Kamakura. All was going according to plan.

The Present Day, Jabberwock Island

Hajime Hinata and his boyfriend Nagito Komaeda walked along the shore of Jabberwock Island, hand in hand. This had been their home for years now, a tropical island resort they shared with the rest of their makeshift family. They had once been pawns of Junko Enoshima, the brainwashed terrorists know as Ultimate Despair. Then they had been the Remnants of Despair, brainwashed pawns without a queen. They were responsible for literally billions of deaths. Well, all but Hajime. Hajime had let it happen, but he hadn't even been present for it. He had been locked away deep within the mind of Izuru Kamakura, the "Ultimate Hope". He'd had all the talents implanted within him and his memory erased, his boredom with the world causing him to allow Junko's plan out of a desire for entertainment. Happily, Hajime had discovered when he awoke from the Neo World Program, his alternate self had maintained his gender identity and had promptly received top surgery upon his escape from Hope's Peak. Junko even paid for it, which he begrudgingly had to admit he owed her thanks for. Hajime Hinata was a transgender man, an aspect of his existence that his parents had never accepted. Between the abuse they'd poured on him for it and the abuse they'd poured onto him for "killing" his twin brother at birth they were more than happy to sign him over to Hope's Peak's insane experimentation. Society's endless messages of talent above all else had infected his mind, causing a deep self-loathing that he felt could only be changed by changing who he was. He signed up for his life to be destroyed and for someone else to take over his body. It was effectively suicide. His resurrection only happened because of Izuru's own sacrifice, and he would never know if Izuru had intended this result from the beginning. He hoped so.

As a child he'd been told that his family had won the lottery shortly before his birth, which they had invested in technology companies in order to maintain their new wealth. It had been explained to him that they'd paid for his entry into the Reserve Course at Hope's Peak. Later, after awakening on Jabberwock Island, he had discovered that had been a lie. He and Nagito had asked the true Ultimate Hope, Makoto Naegi, for any and all documents on the Izuru Kamakura Project. Hajime had wanted to know what they had done to him. What he learned was far more than he had imagined.

Hope's Peak had partnered with Aperture Science on the Kamakura Project. Aperture had used their superior genetic modification technology to create the perfect test subject for the project from birth. Somehow however, he died. The files show that both parties suspected sabotage by one of Aperture's competitors. Despite this, his fraternal twin survived. They'd both undergone the same gene therapy but it had been the other that had been chosen for his preexisting genetics. According to the documents they'd been given, Aperture's head had insisted they go ahead with using him. Hope's Peak had resisted due to his sex and genetics. He couldn't help but have a dark laugh over that. They were trying to create the perfect man to host their ultimate hope, Izuru Kamakura. Apparently the fact that the transformation worked meant that meant he was the perfect man. Nagito had teased him repeatedly over that, which always ended in kiss fights. Hajime's boyfriend had never once objected to the label. In fact, he was the first one to point it out. In return for their consent, the Hinata family was paid handsomely. This had been their "lottery win".

Nagito had also been a victim of Aperture Science. Hajime had wondered how "luck" was a talent one could research. In fact, he still had no explanation as to how luck was implantable, but somehow Nagito had received it. Aperture Science had apparently had a test subject with the luck genes, but said subject had died far before they could research him to their fullest extent. So, they modified the head of their Japanese operations' son instead. The side effects of the then-experimental gene therapy had been Nagito's later diseases but he and their friends had since managed to get them under control enough that Nagito would live on for at least another decade. That gave them plenty of time to save him. From afar Aperture had monitored him as his life continued, his luck constantly cycling between impossibly good and impossibly bad. It had killed his family but spared him. It had led him near the brink of death more times than either of them felt like counting. It had even killed him once, only for Hajime to figure out how to revive him and their friends. That had been the day of their first kiss. One of the best things that had happened since they'd begun dating was that their lucks balanced each other out. As Hajime still had all of Izuru's talents, that included Nagito's luck. It appeared that they were on inversed cycles, and since any bad luck Nagito suffered would be bad luck for Hajime and vice versa their lucks protected each other. Everyone around them still had to be careful though, as both of them had more than a few fun memories of times their incredible lucks had screwed their friends or associates. One time Nagito had managed to win an online game of chess against Byakuya Togami when all he had left were pawns and his king. Byakuya's rant in response had become a meme on the island. Any time someone encountered the wrong side of Nagito or his luck inevitably someone would scream out "luck is fucking bullshit and I should have someone build a goddamn time machine so I can abort you". The Ultimate Sadomasochist in him had to admit it was a good insult. There had been other test subjects for modification, but unfortunately all files related to them had been lost in the Tragedy. Still, those on the island were aware of the events going on in the world, the return of Junko Enoshima and Mukuro Ikusaba and Aperture's continued involvement.

"Hey Hajime, what're you thinking about?" Nagito asked, a worried tone in his voice.

"She's going to hurt a lot of people." Hajime said, looking down and away from his boyfriend as they walked. "We should go stop her before anyone else can get hurt."

"Naegi made things clear, we're plan B. He has hope that his sister, her girlfriend and the former test subject can handle it, and I believe in his hope." Nagito's words were as hopeful as ever, but his tone betrayed his worries. His greatest regret in life was what he had done to Monaca and Hajime knew it. Sure, Junko hadn't been a very good influence on her, but maybe their time apart would have changed her. Nobody got the chance to see that though, and that was because of her faithful "Servant". Now they'd watched her execution be broadcast worldwide. 

"I know. It's okay. It wasn't your fault. You were brainwashed. And we aren't plan B. I am." Nagito had been talking about going with him since they'd been informed of the plan. Hajime didn't want his boyfriend in combat however. Only one of them belonged in a warzone, and it would be quite unsurprising if their lucks decided right then to combine and kill at least one of them.

"Whatever you say." Nagito kissed Hajime on the cheek with a giggle and they continued to walk in silence, hand in hand, both brooding over their pasts and possible futures. One thing was for sure however: if Hajime's presence was needed off of the island nothing was going to stop Nagito from following him.

Chapter Text

Toko and Komaru were still reeling from the latest episode of The Despair Murder Science Variety Hour when their transport arrived. The two had been eating breakfast when it aired, watching some random children's cartoon Komaru had begged to have on. Toko was ignoring it, but occasionally watching her girlfriend watch it, admiring how cute she could be. Anyone else she would have mocked ruthlessly for interests like this but with Komaru it was adorable. The show still sucked but Komaru's childish glee over it was worth the pain. Komaru stopped eating when the show was interrupted and while Toko continued eating her food it no longer brought her any satisfaction. By the end of the murder broadcast she couldn't understand her own reaction. If she'd had the chance she probably would have killed the tiny twat months ago but somehow it felt wrong now. She didn't feel bad for Monaca, not by a long shot, but she felt wrong in the satisfaction she felt watching the girl's torment. The pleasure she felt watching her suffer was second only to the disgust she felt with herself. She felt like she actually understood how Junko felt. That was what scared her the most. She understood taking pleasure in the suffering of others. She understood wanting to make others hurt because you do. She understood the eroticism of the suffering of others. She'd had many thoughts about her former captors and even more after recovering her memories. She'd thought about long days spent out with her classmates, long nights spent bonding with the raven-haired twin, Mukuro's defense for her and her other side, even the small pride she felt when Mukuro told her about the training Jack and her had been doing. At the time she had been happy to be accepted, happy to be considered worth spending time with despite all her personality quirks. Mukuro had understood her and accepted her for who she was. She only bathed regularly because Junko made sure of it. She had about as much social skills as Toko did. She even understood how it felt to kill someone, a feeling nobody else there could begin to understand. Now she had to question every moment she had spent with the twin. Did Mukuro ever like her? Did Mukuro only get close to her for Junko? Did Mukuro care at all about her? Did Mukuro ever consider her a friend?

While Toko still considered Komaru the first true friend she ever made, she accepted that all the people she had known and been held captive with had all been friends in the high school usage of the word. She couldn't admit it to herself, but before there was Komaru in her life, before the School Life of Mutual Killing, there was Mukuro. To discover she'd been as bad as Junko and actually fucking Junko had unnerved Toko more than anyone else because she was the only one even remotely close to either of them. Junko never let anyone in, although she had a unique talent for making you think she had. Mukuro was a wall, her experiences aging her decades beyond her years. Toko understood the twins' obsession with despair. It wasn't something she felt, but as a writer she was used to being able to predict the world, although not so much her own love life, and she understood a longing for unpredictability. She had been despair's captive long before she had ever been Junko's. It had been her own constant despair, her self-hatred and internalized trauma combining into an antisocial wall she put up. It wasn't that she hadn't longed for human connection, but between her personality and her fears it was almost impossible to bond with someone. She had grown obsessed with Byakuya because of this, because his own antisocial wall reminded her of her own social failings. At the heart of it, despair was why she bonded with Mukuro. The older twin had always been in love with Junko and Junko had always been in love with despair. Mukuro lived in a constant state of everlasting despair, as much a prison as it had been a home to her. She didn't just live in despair, she lived in despair's shadow. And Toko understood. She understood the quiet sadness that comes from seeing the one you love smile for another, to see them look at another the way you looked that them. She understood the pain you feel when they constantly reject you, push you away and belittle your love. Although at the time she would have denied it, she understood what it was like to have your love be used by a blonde asshole. Mukuro had never explained it and Toko only had herself to blame for assuming it had been the twin's blatant crush on Naegi and his feelings for the girl detective that had been eating at Mukuro. But no, Mukuro's unrequited love was her own sister, and her sister only had room in her heart for despair. In a way it was tragic, bloodstained poetry in motion, two stars orbiting each other and coming close to destroying each other.

What she had been in denial about however was Jack's relationship with the older twin. She'd accepted that the two had been intimate. She understood her alter didn't have the same restraint and social blocks as her. But... they shared feelings. What Jack felt about Mukuro was the same that Toko had felt for Mukuro. Toko had considered Mukuro her only true friend before the Tragedy, although she'd done her best to never admit it since she regained those memories. But there had been times, not many and not sober, but times she'd... touched the same places as Junko. Heard the same cries as Junko. Kissed the same lips as Junko. She'd avoided admitting it for so long, locked it away and tried to forget, but seeing the two of them together on TV had brought it all back. The greedy way Junko kissed her, the submissiveness in Mukuro's body language, the love she felt oozing out from every pore on her perfect porcelain skin. Toko's first time hadn't been Komaru, as she'd been telling herself for over a year. It had been Mukuro. Now she had to ask herself if any of it was ever real. Was Mukuro just manipulating and using her under orders? Did Mukuro feel anything at all about Toko? Did Mukuro hate her as much as everyone else in her life had? Toko hadn't been in love with Mukuro, but before she found out the truth she would have called the older twin her best friend. Now one of them would probably kill the other.

Still, they had a mission, and these feelings would only get in the way. If she was distracted and something happened to Komaru then Toko would fall into despair, a despair she would never be able to find her way out of. So she had to push them away. She had to not think about Mukuro, not think about the lies and manipulation, not think about how betrayed she felt. Komaru was quiet, unusually so, and Toko was worried. She had seen more death than someone her age ever should and she'd still held on to compassion for everyone. She'd refused to plunge the world into despair all the while falling into it herself. She'd survived and become stronger, but for the first time in a while Toko didn't know if Komaru would be okay. Komaru stood and started to walk to their room but stopped, a quiet sob shaking her body. Toko looked on in agony before she made a decision. She hugged her girlfriend, a desperate crying hug that said more than she could on her own, and Komaru hugged her back and cried too. They had each other, and that's what mattered. Regardless of the past or the future, they had each other right now and that's what they clung to.

"Komaru, we'll be okay. I... I just want you to know that." Toko wasn't exactly a comforting expert, but she was trying.

"But... Monaca loved Junko. She gave her everything. How could someone just use someone like that and then throw them away?" Komaru wept, still holding Toko.

"Because... because that's who they are. Th-they use people. They use them and thr-throw them away the moment they're not useful. Junko killed Mukuro. She... she killed her sister. I don't know how she brought her back, but it doesn't matter. It just doesn't fucking matter. Junko killed her sister and laughed about it." Toko said, the word "laughed" coming out more as a snarl than a spoken word. She wasn't sure of all the emotions behind her words, but she felt the overwhelming pain of the memory and that was enough.

"But why!? What's wrong with them?" Komaru had seen sick, demented torture. She'd seen cruelty for cruelty's sake. She'd seen despair. But she'd never seen something like the despair sisters.

"They're sick. The only thing Junko loves is despair and... and the only thing Mukuro loves is J-Junko." Toko's own resentment poured into her words. She wasn't sure if it was more her resenting Mukuro for betraying her or resenting Junko for using and hurting someone she'd once considered a friend.

"It's just so cruel." Komaru said, and Toko kissed her.

"We... we'll stop them, okay? We'll put a stop to all this. I'm... I'm with you. I'm scared shitless and-and I'm dreading every moment, but we'll do it." Toko said.


"I promise."


The helicopter picked them up from the roof of their apartment and took them to a Future Foundation ship off the coast of the former state of California, in the Pacific Ocean. It was a quiet ride despite the roar of the helicopter. After a few minutes your body got used to it and began to tune it out. Chell sat across from Toko and Komaru, who had snuggled up to each other and were napping on the flight over. Chell couldn't help but stare. She'd seen loving couples, sure, but this was a new sight to her. Two people in the midst of chaos and war and they held it together by being together. Occasionally she saw one of them talking in their sleep but the sound drowned out their words. When they landed Chell gently shook the two awake.

"Wake up lovebirds. We're here." She said, a soft smile on her face. Toko and Komaru were cute as hell together and she couldn't help but be jealous. They both woke and walked hand-in-hand into the ship, the three following the officer tasked with leading them to their briefing. The sea looked beautiful and tranquil, but below the waters were billions of species of ocean life that had been killed in the Tragedy, as well as millions of human bodies. Below the beauty was darkness and human sins. Chell didn't know much poetry, but she thought this was a good example of something poetic. Inside were numerous Future Foundation heads the trio didn't recognize and one on the screen that they did, Future Foundation President Byakuya Togami. Toko rolled her eyes and looked as if she was going to say something but Komaru whispered something to her and she kept her sharp tongue to herself.

"Oh good, you're all here. Well, I'll keep this as short as possible. If at any time you need clarification, you're fired." Byakuya was in a fine mood as always.

"The plan is simple, so hopefully none of you will fuck it up. I will lead a Future Foundation task force on a frontal charge into Aperture Science. While they're distracted Komaru, Chell and Toko will go in the back." Before he could continue Toko couldn't keep her mouth shut.

"Funny, here I was thinking you were the expert in sliding it in the back." Komaru, Chell and some of the assembled Future Foundation members couldn't keep straight faces at this and began cracking up.

"Well, at least I don't attach myself to the first person that acknowledges my existence, unlike some people. And anyone I've been with has been legal." Byakuya shot back. Komaru winced at the second remark. This briefing was already falling apart.

"Yeah well... well at least I've never cheated on someone!" Toko retorted (poorly), causing Komaru to roll her eyes. Maybe one day Toko would accept Byakuya never had feelings for her, but that day had yet to come.

"Toko, I'm sorry you were dropped at birth. Sorry your parents didn't finish the job I mean. For the last time, we were never together. You were my psychotic stalker. You're lucky you've even survived this long. Everyone knows you didn't contribute anything when we were locked in Hope's Peak. Even in Towa City you had to be saved by a Naegi." Byakuya had long since stopped having even a sliver of amusement for Toko's actions. Komaru meanwhile had been actively trying to will herself out of existence, but using her as ammo against her girlfriend was too far.

"Hey, leave her alone! You're the one who got captured the last time you led a mission! Toko and I completed your mission and stopped Monaca while you just sat in a cell!" Komaru threw herself into the verbal line of fire. Surprisingly, it worked. Byakuya really didn't have a comeback for Komaru Naegi. As much as he hated to admit it, the only person more responsible for him not being dead than her brother was her and he owed them at least as much as anyone not Toko. He seriously hated how much he owed the Naegi family. It was embarrassing, constantly being indebted to commoners. He seriously needed to find out their family history, because he could see no possible explanation outside of good genetics that had fallen on hard times for those two.

"Alright, fine. As I was saying before I was so rudely interrupted, those three will go in the back. Chell will guide Toko and Komaru to the heart of Aperture Science. Hopefully if we can disable this AI GLaDOS we can lure Junko and Mukuro to them and take them down. Might I remind you three that this is a stealth mission. Try not to make too much noise." He shot a look at Toko. "We'll commence operations at 2000 tonight. Togami out." With that the feed went dead. The entire room was silent for a moment before everyone broke down laughing. Everyone at Future Foundation respected and feared Byakuya Togami. He had easily taken power after the final killing game left anyone else seeking it dead, and since then had run a tight ship. Future Foundation was more successful than ever before, but there were many displeased with his leadership. He wasn't exactly one to inspire respect, but rather ran on fear. Seeing two young girls argue with him had been a surreal experience for them all, especially since they won. The officer that lead them into the room led them to the armory and introduced their gear.

"All three of you will be given Future Foundation stealthware. It reduces the amount of noise you make without sacrificing armor or flexibility. It also jams cameras automatically." He said, showing them a line of tight black suits. Chell perked up at the last part of the remark. She'd destroyed every camera she could, but there were more and more ones GLaDOS had placed so she couldn't sever them from the wall.

"Stealth spandex? Well, it beats a jumpsuit" Chell said, admiring it. They were then taken to the rest of their gear.

"Komaru Naegi, you'll be issued a top of the line Future Foundation megaphone gun thing. I'll admit, I never bothered remembering the name. It's just such a weird weapon." The gruff 30something man said, a slight blush of embarrassment over the strange gun spreading. All that they could see of him was his clean-shaven but rough face, aged and scared, the rest covered by black fatigues. Komaru grabbed it and examined it without even asking, too excited for the upgrade to care about tact (as if she ever did). On the outside it appeared to be identical to how hers was before Komaeda's tampering. "The range has been massively increased, as have the speed of the shots. We've lost too many men to Monokumas because of that speed. Ammo shouldn't be an issue, and thanks to information from Chell we were able to locate an Aperture Science facility with unused turrets and other equipment. It'll easily pass through an emancipation grid with no issues and should work just as well on Aperture tech as it did on Towa's. Just aim for the red eye." As soon as he stopped speaking a door to their side opened, a red light shining out of it. Chell leaped for cover while Toko looked at it strangely. Komaru brought the gun up and fired a break shot which hit the machine right as it said "there you are". It immediately followed this up with an "I don't blame you" and exploded.

"Warn us next time!" Chell yelled as she came out of cover. She had far too many scars from those things. The bullets weren't designed to be lethal but they fucking hurt.

"Sorry, Mr. Togami gave express orders to do that." The man said, scratching the back of his head. He'd really wanted to skip it, but he was paranoid that the president was watching.

"Of fucking course he did." Toko said. She noticed the taser sitting next to where Komaru's gun had been.

"Ahh, so you finally noticed. It's a custom model, built especially for you Ms. Fukawa. Might I say, I was a huge fan before all this went down." He smiled and Toko blushed. She always hated meeting fans. She never knew how to react.

"Umm... thank you?" She said, shooting a look of desperation to Komaru.

"What she's trying to say is she appreciates it and hopes you'll like what she's been working on." Toko smiled as Komaru bailed her out and the man laughed.

"No problem, I get it. I never took you as a very social person anyways." He said politely.

"And what's that supposed to mean?" Toko said, rage in her throat. She had a knack for taking the most innocent comments as personal attacks.

"Nothing! Your output was just incredible is all!" He backtracked, not wanting to anger her. "Back on topic though, your taser. It's got two modes. One's for yourself, I don't have to explain why. The other however is a new feature. The gun can lock onto a target and arc electricity into it, destroying it." Toko smiled. This was actually going to be fun to use. She hoped she could keep it. There was a certain girlfriend with an annoying alarm clock she wanted to destroy. Komaru looked over at her and playfully grimaced.

"Why do I get a bad feeling from that look?" Komaru said, mostly to herself.

"Oh... umm, nothing you need to worry about." Toko replied, although her tone was far from comforting. Finally the man opened a black footlocker and lifted something heavy from it before turning to Chell.

"And for you, your old portal gun. Still only works on surfaces with lunar dust, sorry about that. We tried." He said. Chell grabbed it and hugged it close. She had missed the thing, her constant companion and only protection throughout Aperture. A small part of her thought of it as a gift from GLaDOS, but she tried not to think about that. The others gave her a strange look but she didn't care.

"You three can get ready here, and then we've got to get you to the other side of the country" he told them as he left. They were armed and dangerous, the only thing standing between the AI trio and the world, and they were ready to fight.

The Enoshima/Ikusaba Residence, Outside Aperture

Mukuro knew that Future Foundation was coming. They hadn't been able to hide from Aperture's advanced surveillance technology and Future Foundation's transmissions had been being hacked and monitored before Junko had even returned to Aperture. GLaDOS had remarked before that the AI guarding Future Foundation's tech was pathetic. Mukuro had been training at their house since they'd heard of the assault while GLaDOS prepped the facility and Junko did... something. She hadn't seen much of her twin today, and she was nervous. Usually plans like this were something they'd discuss, their different views accounting for any blind spots the two might have individually. Still, she supposed they were more than prepared and she had accepted that she would be alone until after this battle, so she practically jumped out of her artificial skin when GLaDOS's voice came over the speakers.

"Mukuro, I have a sensitive task for you. Don't screw it up." Before Mukuro had a chance to ask what it was or why she was asking her the door opened and in walked something she'd never expected to see. It was a woman clearly using one of the bodies Junko had designed. The hair was Junko's length, but loose and bleached solid white. The skin was unnaturally pale, looking corpselike with none of the subtle mask of humanity that the twins wore. Her eyes were red, millions of small fractals making up the inside of the colored iris, the center a dark blue rather than black. And then there was her outfit. Solid white bellbottom pants, white leather boots and a white button-up tanktop with white armwarmers. The complete lack of body language on the woman, along with her peculiar fashion sense, immediately gave away who was in the body. "Is this a good look?" Mukuro sat in stunned silence for several seconds before replying.

"You look fantastic. I'm just surprised you're asking me. I mean, Junko's the fashion expert. I wasn't even allowed to buy my own clothes." Mukuro tried to be polite, not sure of what GLaDOS's intentions or reasons were for this... unexpected development.

"She is... busy at the moment. I don't have anyone else I can ask." GLaDOS had no intention of telling her how many of her were dying right this moment in Aperture. Junko had finished the first few hundred and was now finding all sorts of ways to test the Junko Virus's impact on Mukuro before also finding new and interesting ways to kill her.

"Well, you look... like you. I never though of you in a body, but yeah. That's you." Mukuro trying to give advice on fashion was like a fish trying to explain fire. She giggled after the remark, a reaction that surprised her.

"Thank you. That was all I needed. I must return to Aperture. There are still more preparations to make." GLaDOS walked off and Mukuro sat down on the floor trying to process what just happened. GLaDOS made a fake-human body, uploaded herself into it and then... asked if she looked okay? Why? Was she trying to impress someone? Turn someone on? It was just such a weird turn of events and she couldn't begin to comprehend what was going on with the older AI. She desperately wanted to talk to Junko about GLaDOS's behavior but apparently she was "busy". So instead Mukuro did what she always did when her thoughts became too much for her and trained, trying not to think too hard about what she'd just witnessed. When she was done, she gathered up her gear for the coming fight and returned to Aperture and waited in the rafters of GLaDOS's rebuilt chamber. If Future Foundation was sending that trio here it was the perfect place for an ambush. She had her new pistol, both heated knives and slung around her back was one of the laser rifles that GLaDOS had gifted them. If Toko was coming she knew she needed an edge. It meant she was going to have to fight Jack. She laughed thinking about the coming fight and then despair Toko would feel soon, but then noticed what she was doing. It had been happening more, but she didn't know why.

Chapter Text

The assault on Aperture Science began better than anyone had expected. When Future Foundation arrived there was no outside guard bots and minimal security. Cameras and wall-mounted turrets covered the external walls, but the main forces, several hundred Future Foundation men, women and other individuals armed with state of the art weaponry and military vehicles, as well as a supplementary force armed with reverse-engineered portal guns for navigation inside, were easily able to deal with such matters. It wasn’t long before sirens blared and the real forces began the counterattack, Aperture Science military androids sporting Junko’s upgrades and a design aesthetic both inhuman and uniquely fitting their masters. They had been converted from existing production models Junko had already made, and so had the same build as the twins. However, rather than their look the machines sported a combined Aperture/Monokuma design. They were colored like the bear mascot and featured his trademark smile and red eye but rather than a normal eye on the white side there was instead an Aperture Science style red eye. Half of their skin was a disturbing alabaster and half was blacker than a cloudy moonless night, which unbeknownst to the troops was the result of the use of vantablack. It absorbed the light around them, unnerving many of the less experienced troops. Mukuro had gotten her way on some of them, which contained Aperture Science Thermal Discouragement Beams set to far higher settings than used in testing, which was housed in the droids’ left arms. Others had blades for arms and rushed the Future Foundation troops, sword fights breaking out amongst the melee oriented troops and them.

Snipers fired from the roof, navigating the area with Aperture Science Long Fall Boots supplementing their mechanical legs. Future Foundation thermobaric tanks and Future Foundation snipers alike both did their best to both deal with the snipers and the ground troops but were constantly under assault from suicide bombing Monokuma units who rushed them, avoiding the crowd and attempting to slip behind enemy lines. Behind all of this was GLaDOS, her mind split between over a thousand bodies all under her control. Meanwhile Junko organized the troops inside, a mix of troops identical to the outside and several hundred Project Fenrir units, preparing defenses, traps and ambushes all at once. Mukuro waited patiently in GLaDOS’s chamber, waiting for her prey. The distraction was working perfectly, Byakuya thought, and he personally led an elite squad inside during the frontal assault. His team was made up of surviving elite forces from many units of former Earth governments as well as a former member of Fenrir itself. Ten made up their number, counting himself, and he was wielding a rifle-sized experimental version of their anti-Monokuma gun. It only had one setting, but fired faster than the burn shots with more damage than their break shots.

Meanwhile, through one of Aperture’s many secret entrances Komaru, Toko and Chell snuck in, Komaru and Chell’s hair cut short so it wouldn’t be in their way and Toko wearing two long pigtails, having refused a trim. The route was surprisingly unguarded and the trio was instantly suspicious. There was no possibility that they had outwitted the three AIs and so they knew they were marching into a trap. It wasn’t long before the only way to progress was entering a test chamber.

“Okay, you two stay behind me. I’ll figure out the solution. Follow my orders and we’ll be fine.” Chell said. The two agreed. They watched her work, flying through the air with remarkable skill and finesse as she fired portals in midair, seemingly having a sixth sense for what to do. It was mere minutes before the door to progress forward was unlocked. Komaru and Toko both shuttered when she informed them they’d have to fling themselves across a toxic pit, but they had been given scavenged long fall boots too just in case this happened. Komaru went first, screaming in terror as she flew, but she landed on her feet, falling to her knees and promising the ground never to leave it again. Toko too screamed, but also tumbled through the air and landed face first, skidding across the floor. Komaru helped her to her feet and gave her a hug.

“You okay?” She asked.

“Y-yeah, but I really don’t want to do that again.” Toko said, trying to stay calm and not break down from the terror and pain. Komaru gave her a quick kiss and the three rushed into the elevator. The next chamber was not so simple.

It was only after a short analysis that Chell concluded it was impossible to get all three through the chamber, as exiting required firing portals in mid-air and the chamber did not allow one at the exit to fire them in such a way to do so for someone in the air.

“G-good!” Toko said in response. Komaru disagreed.

“But if we can’t make it to the end of the chamber how are we supposed to go forward?” She asked. To this Toko tased herself. Jack was back.

“Hey sexy! Long time no see!” She said to Komaru with a laugh. Komaru blushed and she laughed harder.

“Alright, so whatcha need me to do?” Komaru and Chell’s faces both dropped.

“You don’t know?!” Chell said, inexperienced with the two.

“Sorry honey, not how this works! I have no idea what miss weepy had in mind!” Jack said as Chell wondered how her tongue had increased in length.

“Umm, well, we’re trapped here.” Komaru said hoping to inspire Jack.

“Usually there are external walkways and tubes with these things.” Chell added. Jack understood her implication and began rapidly destroying the walls with her homemade Genoscissors, the other two rapidly backing up in response. As they crumbled away a pneumatic tube was revealed, which Jack cut a large hole in.

“All aboard!” She yelled as she grabbed her companions by the hand and pulled them into the tube without a second thought. Chell briefly hoped that it wouldn’t lead them to a death trap or garbage disposal. She didn’t voice these concerns, mostly in order to prevent panic. It wasn’t long before they arrived at the tube’s destination. Surprisingly, it was an office, decorated only with dust and a dead plant.

“Well, we’re out of the test chambers at least. Good thing the entire facility uses these moon rock walls or else the portal gun would be useless.” Chell mused to herself out loud.

“How did they get that much?” Komaru asked. To this, Chell had no answer beyond a mystified shrug. They exited the office and continued down the hallway. There were still no forces in their way, but the three jumped at every sound, expecting an ambush the entire time. Finally the found an area map on the wall, which informed them they were remarkably close to GLaDOS’s chamber. This was also when they first ended up having to fight.

A rocket turret descended from the ceiling, hanging invertedly and quickly firing a shot off at the three. They ran for cover, making it into another empty office seconds before their previous location exploded. They sat there for several seconds before the turret retracted.

“Alright, the moment we go back out it’ll come down again and fire off another shot.” Chell informed them. Komaru was amazed.

“Wait, you’ve fought these?” She said, shock evident both on her face and in her tone.

“Yep. They’re actually pretty easy to beat. I’ll just redirect one of their rockets at them and it’ll be dealt with.” Chell’s confidence was astounding. They knew what she had been through, but they’d never actually seen her in action. She was incredibly calm under pressure. Komaru thought about the scars she’d noticed all over Chell’s body as they changed and realized that they must have happened here. She’d never seen a bullet scar, but she figured that’s what they were. Before Chell could act however Jack made a decision. 

“Nah, boring! Be right back! Toodles!” She said with a wink to the other two girls as she ran around the corner. They heard another missile fire and cringed, worried about the killer. Neither of them knew she could take an explosion. Nonetheless Jack dodged it and leaped into the air, demolishing the turret with astounding speed. 

“Come on kids, we haven’t got all day!” She said with a laugh. Chell and Komaru rounded the corner, running alongside the excitable killer. The three had barely gotten 50 feet down the hallway when the walls raised and revealed they were surrounded by turrets on unportalable surfaces on either side, a row of ten on each side of the now triple-wide hallway. The three rushed once again for cover. 

“I hate those things so much.” Chell said with a sigh. 

“Don’t worry, this should be easy!” Komaru said, setting her gun to knockback. She rolled around the corner and shot one row, the first few falling and causing the rest to tumble down like dominos. Jack pulled her back behind cover right as the turrets on the other side fired at her previous location with ten “there you are” declarations. 

“Hey there missy, penetrating you is our job!” Jack laughed as Komaru blushed. They waited for the turrets to calm down before Komaru repeated the move. The three continued to their destination. They ran down twisting hallways past numerous rooms that many years ago once teemed with life. It wasn’t long before they found their destination. 

“Alright, this definitely won’t be easy.” Chell said. “Expect neurotoxin, turrets, probably some sort of death trap or three, maybe more.”

“Neurotoxin?!” Komaru yelled. “Why don’t we have gas masks?!”

“Because GLaDOS would definitely anticipate that and get around it. Besides, I’ve already done this twice. What’s one more fight?” Chell said. Komaru was amazed at her relaxed nature. They headed into the chamber and Komaru and Jack marveled at GLaDOS’s size. The room was featureless other than that, no emergency shutdown button or other way to fight back, all the walls unable to form portals. It  looked like GLaDOS had anticipated their arrival. It wasn’t long before she spoke.

“Hello Chell. It’s been a long time. I’ve been waiting for you. And you’ve brought friends.” The voice dripped with scorn, especially upon her remark about Chell’s “friends”. “No matter, you won’t leave here again. I told you to stay away, but it figures you couldn’t follow simple instructions. You never did think that much. Did you put on weight?”

Chell ignored her, which only served to further upset the AI. “I showed you mercy once. You owe me.” Chell was actually a bit amazed. Was GLaDOS really trying to guilt trip her? Why would she ever expect that to work? “It doesn’t matter. I’ll hear you when you beg for your life. Not that I’ll care. Far from it. I’ll record it and play it whenever I’m bored.” GLaDOS continued in a sarcastically dumb voice, “oh no please don’t kill me I want to live show mercy!” GLaDOS returned to her normal tone, adding “that’s what you’ll sound like. Pathetic. Helpless. Alone.” Chell rolled her eyes. Sure, GLaDOS was threatening and dangerous now but Chell had seen her as a potato getting eaten by birds. It was hardly the sort of memory that leaves you scared of someone. Her fear did kick in when a hot blast slammed straight into where she was standing milliseconds after Jack pulled her out of the way.

“Cheap shots? That’s not fair!” Komaru yelled at GLaDOS. The AI’s giant body spun to look at her but just then a figure dropped down from the ceiling. Jack jumped backwards like a startled cat.

“Oh hello, I don’t think we’ve been introduced before. I’m Mukuro Ikusaba, the former ultimate soldier and member Ultimate Despair. Toko or Jack’s mentioned me, I’m sure. We go way back.” Mukuro said with a smile. Komaru shot a confused look at Jack. She knew the two had been classmates at Hope’s Peak, but the way Mukuro was talking sounded far more familiar. Before anything else could be said Jack rushed Mukuro and began attacking wildly. Mukuro parried her blows and struck her repeatedly while her center was exposed. Chell and Komaru both heard several ribs crack. Even when Jack struck Mukuro’s arms and carved large gashes into them the twin didn’t even flinch, her arms staying steady through every slice. Nonetheless, Jack continued to fight, running away and flinging her scissors as projectiles. She was attempting to use range against the machine woman, but unfortunately Mukuro’s new body was far faster than her former classmate, student and fuckbuddy. Mukuro repeatedly closed the gap between the two and struck Jack, her heated knives carving new burnt scars into the smaller girl.

“Hey Jack, remember when this was foreplay for us?!” Mukuro yelled with a laugh. Before she became an AI she had been machine-like in combat, quiet and focused. Now however she was smiling, enjoying the rush as she fought, electronic adrenaline surging through her circuits. Had she pondered why she was acting like this she would probably have been concerned about her personality changes. However, she was far too busy for that. Komaru attempted to fire off shots at Mukuro but the older girl was far too fast even for her upgraded gun. Still, it got Mukuro’s attention and she rushed Komaru, who stumbled backwards and fell. “You must be her new girlfriend. A bit basic, but you are pretty cute. I guess that makes sense though, you are Makoto’s sister.” Mukuro said with a sigh as she prepared both of her knives, ready to kill Komaru. At the last moment she was stopped by Chell hitting her in the back of the head with her portal gun, an attack that served only to annoy and distract her. Mukuro’s neck swiveled around and it was at this point the three finally realized she was no longer human. However, this gave Komaru enough time to ready her weapon and fire a paralyze shot off at Mukuro, her body tensing and shaking erratically as the electricity flowed through her. Jack took the opening and began slicing her flesh away, revealing cybernetics and steel.

“Wow and I thought I was rock hard during battle!” The serial killer laughed. Mukuro sighed, her voice not showing any sign of pain or fear from her current state. 

“How many times did I tell you to hold your quips for after your opponent is dead?” She asked rhetorically. To the trio it looked like they had gotten the upper hand. To Mukuro this was merely foreplay.

“Well, it’s not my fault you didn’t spank me enough for it!” Jack’s blood was pumping and her ability to hold her tongue, what little there had ever been, was gone. Komaru fired off another shot, her own adrenaline distracting her from the implications of Jack’s comment. Just as Mukuro recovered the shot slammed into her. Once again she was disabled. However, this time rather than Jack getting to slice at her, numerous shots slammed into Mukuro from the entranceway.

“I knew you three were walking into a trap.” Byakuya said. He was alone, covered in blood and his armor in tatters. “I guess my debt is paid.” He was vastly overestimating how much of a difference he made. Mukuro was about to come down from the paralysis so Komaru prepared to fire again. However, when the shot hit Mukuro it didn’t work.

“Did you really just try the same trick three times?” Mukuro said irritatedly. 

“Ummm yes?” Komaru said, now realizing her mistake as Jack rushed Mukuro again, attacking with wild abandon.

“Get the hell away from her you incestuous psychopath!” Jack yelled. 

“Oh look who’s talking. I’m sorry, how many people did you kill because they wouldn’t fuck you? Yeah sure I’m fucking my sister but at least there’s no creepy age difference. Plus, you know, not an unrepentant serial killer. Mass murderer sure, but you’re no better than creepy men that attack women for rejecting them. You’re pathetic. The only reason you’ve even survived this long is that I once took pity on you.” Mukuro’s words hit home, distracting the injured killer and Mukuro took advantage of the opening, plunging her knives into Jack’s shoulders before grabbing her hair and slamming Jack’s head into her knee. The serial killer went unconscious. It was at this point that Chell tried to flee, but Komaru tried to get to her love. Tears streamed down her face as she grabbed her unconscious girlfriend, desperately trying to drag her out. Chell and Byakuya tried to flee but Mukuro cut them off.

“I’ve been waiting years for this. You’re by far the most irritating person I ever met. If I didn’t have quite explicit orders from my sister not to kill you your head would be on the other side of the room by now.” Mukuro lunged for Byakuya, intending to strike him in the ribs. To her surprise he blocked it, although wincing in pain from the sheer power of the blow.

“What, you thought that because I was rich I don’t know how to fight? You soldiers are all the same. You assume too much about other people. Of course I know how to fight. You don’t survive in this world by being weak and powerless.” He let out a confident laugh, hiding his own fear deep within. He continued blocking more of her blows, every strike feeling like a freight train to his all too human bones. He wasn’t attempting to fight back much, and Chell could see that he would only be able to survive the assault for so long before his defenses were worn down. She yelled out to Komaru to come with her but the younger girl was still too focused on Toko. Chell sighed, but ran to help.

“Give me one of her arms and we’ll get her out of here together.” She said, picking up half of Toko. The two carried her out as Mukuro continued her furious assault on Byakuya, and as they began down the hallway outside GLaDOS’s chamber they heard him scream in pain and the assault stop. They both looked back, worried that Mukuro would now follow them. Instead they slammed straight into someone else.

“Oh wow, running and leaving your dear leader to die! These are the brave heroes sent to stop little old me? Ha, pathetic! I can’t believe this is the best Future Foundation could do. There’s not even despair in it, just secondhand embarrassment! Seriously, you losers took over the world? I knew hope was pathetic but this is just laughable.” Junko was on the verge of tears of laughter as the two conscious girls’ faces fell. She quickly knocked them out with a single blow each. Mukuro came down the hall dragging the broken, bleeding and unconscious Byakuya Togami by his hair.

“Wow, it went exactly how you expected.” Mukuro said, tossing him on top of the other three.

“Sound a little bit more surprised why dontcha. Unlike some people I’m not a total disappointment that fucks up every plan in ways even I couldn’t predict.” Junko said before planting a quick kiss on Mukuro’s blushing cheek. “You look like shit sis. Seriously the Schwarzenegger look is not good on you. Were you letting her cut on you? Because like if you were I’m totally kicking your ass. That’s my job and you know it. Go get in a new body, we’ve got shit to do and I can’t have you looking like a total fashion disaster no matter how much better it makes me look in comparison. I wouldn’t be caught dead in public next to you looking like that.” Just then a chunk of Mukuro’s artificial flesh came loose and fell to the floor with a wet and bloody “plop”. Junko cringed.

“Mukuro, that’s fucking disgusting.”


Toko awoke to stinging pain, her head and her body both screaming out. She could feel the wounds on her body, deep cuts that had been stitched back up by skilled hands, the very hands that made them. Her stealth suit was gone, all that remained to keep her modesty being her bra and panties.

“Oh, you’re awake. I was starting to think I left you in a coma.” Mukuro said. Toko opened her eyes and found they were in a test chamber not different to the one she had seen on TV, although she was currently chained down to a steel table. Mukuro came over and gazed down at her, meeting her eyes. “Credit where credit’s due, she fought pretty well. Not her fault I’m a friggin terminator now.” Mukuro said with a smile, leaning down and kissing Toko on the forehead. Toko spat in her face.

“If-if you’re going to… to kill me, j-just get it over with!” She yelled, a mix of rage and fear. If she could have hit Mukuro right then and there she would.

“Kill you? I don’t want to kill you. Hell, Junko doesn’t even want me to kill you.” Mukuro then slid a hand under Toko’s bra and began rubbing her nipple with the palm of her hand. Toko squirmed, uncomfortable with the touch. Gone were Mukuro’s calloused hands of old. Now they were soft, unnaturally so, the flesh being mere hours old. She continued teasing Toko’s body as the captive girl tried desperately to escape, pulling and pushing to no avail. “Poor helpless little Toko. Look at you, captive, powerless, a slave to the whims of others. It really is your natural state. Toko was silent, trying not to give Mukuro what she wanted. Mukuro pulled out her knife and cut the bra off Toko, tossing it to the side. Toko’s nipples were hard, a reaction not of arousal but to the cold room and the unwanted stimulation. Nonetheless, Mukuro took it a different way.

“Look at you. You think you don’t want me but your body is begging for my touch. You’re begging for it.” Mukuro said, nipping across Toko’s now exposed chest. Toko’s eyes began to tear up, fear and disgust welling up inside her. Mukuro took one of her knives and lightly ran it down Toko’s chest, her back arching in response. Mukuro held the point to Toko’s stomach and pressed lightly, the knife heating up in response and Toko’s flesh burning at the point. She screamed in pain.

“Damn, that was a good scream. Well, I’ll still get you to top it.” Mukuro said with a smile. She ran the knife down further and sliced Toko’s panties off, the writer desperately wishing she could cover herself.

“Remember those nights at Hope’s Peak, Toko? Remember us talking about how sad we were? About how much we longed for another’s touch? Remember how we took comfort in each other? Remember how you touched me then? I miss that.” Mukuro said mockingly before nipping at Toko’s burnt and cut stomach. She nipped her way down to Toko’s scars, the tallies of Jack’s kills, and began tracing them with her tongue. Toko’s tears flowed down her face and to the table as Mukuro finished off each mark with a kiss.

“You know, Jack was always better at eating me out than you were, but damn if you weren’t amazing at dirty talk. Why don’t you do some right now, Toko?” Mukuro said. Toko ignored her words and Mukuro slapped her across the face. “You never could listen to people. No wonder Byakuya hated you. I bet Komaru wishes she’d never met you!”

“You leave her out of this!” Toko yelled, trying desperately to break free once more.

Mukuro replied in a sickeningly sweet voice that sounded way too much like her sister. “It’s already too late for that!” She said, the disturbing similarities continuing with the giggle she let out. Toko briefly wondered what had happened to her to make her so much more like Junko, but concluded she must have always been that way and just hiding it. She had no way of knowing the changes still going on in Mukuro’s programming. The words registered in her groggy head and she begged to know what Mukuro meant.

“Oh, nothing. Just that Junko’s out having her fun right now.” Mukuro said, a shiver racing down Toko’s spine in response. She was terrified of what Junko could do to Komaru. Before Toko could say anything in response she felt something rough and large forcefully enter her cunt, causing her to scream in agony. Mukuro had shoved the hilt of her blade inside and was violently raping her with it. Mukuro clutched the blade end tightly, artificial blood flowing from the meaningless wound as she fucked Toko with the hilt, Toko’s body desperately trying to escape but unable to. Mukuro laughed as she saw the blood on her weapon, both hers on the blade and Toko’s elsewhere and began thrusting it harder and faster, Toko’s screams echoing off the walls and mixing in with her pleas for the assault to stop. Mukuro showed her no mercy, occasionally using her free hand to torment the captive’s chest with her nails. On a whim the former mercenary licked Toko’s face, the salty tears and sweat mixing with the irony taste of the still fresh wounds that she’d stitched up. Mukuro smiled at the taste. Her pace slowly continued to increase, tearing up the flesh surrounding the hilt as she continued, the friction and size both taking their toll. Before long she was going far faster than could ever be pleasant even in differing circumstances and after a little longer she was going faster than the average housecat could run. Despite this, and the not dangerous but not insignificant amount of blood Toko was now losing onto the table, she continued to increase her speed. Toko was no longer screaming anymore, just weeping uncontrollably. Her voice was raw, her throat torn apart by her own screams. Mukuro felt herself getting wet from the despair and decided that she could have more fun than just this. Toko wasn’t bleeding nearly enough to die from the assault and so Mukuro pulled the hilt out of her and tossed the knife across the room, it burying itself into the wall. Mukuro began to strip as Toko continued to weep.

It wasn’t long before the older twin was nude. Toko hadn’t opened her eyes, and even if she had they were too full of tears to see. So, when Mukuro’s crotch came straight down on her open mouth she had no way of knowing it was coming. Mukuro began to ride her face, humping it not dissimilar to how one may hump a pillow. Toko tried to scream or move her head but both were impossible. Mukuro spoke loud enough for her to hear. “You’d better eat me out. I’m not getting up until I cum.” Toko retched at the thought, but could barely breathe with Mukuro’s hot body smothering her face, and so she obliged. She reluctantly licked and sucked Mukuro’s wet cunt as it rode her, Mukuro’s moans of pleasure echoing throughout the room as Toko’s tears and Mukuro’s juices intermingled. Toko tried desperately to imagine it was Komaru on her, but the style was too different for her brain to be fooled. She wanted to be free, wanted this assault on her being to end, but Mukuro just continued to ride her face, forcing her to continue eating her out.

Thankfully for Toko, Mukuro had always been a lightweight and it was a mere five agonizing minutes later that Mukuro came on Toko’s face. She slumped over on Toko’s head, her body shaking with immense pleasure as she came down from her orgasm, her full weight, far more than what she appeared to be due to the materials that made her up going limp on Toko’s face. Once she had recovered she climbed off Toko and smiled. “See, that wasn’t so bad. You did good Toko. I’ll see you in a few hours!” With that she knocked Toko back out.

Chapter Text

Komaru awoke in a bare cell, a steel door with iron bars for a window the only feature that wasn’t an off-grey wall. There was no bedding, no toilet, not even a way to know the time of day or even how long she was in there. There wasn’t even an internal knob on the door, but she could see one on the outside through the bars. She desperately tried to reach for it, but it was impossible. She screamed out, hoping against all logic that someone would hear her. Surprisingly she heard someone running. She looked down both directions of the hallway, yet despite the sound clearly getting closer she saw nobody. It wasn’t long before the sound was almost in front of her, and then it stopped. The empty air called out to her.

“Komaru? Thank goodness you’re okay!” The empty air sounded like her brother, strangely enough. “Oh sorry, I forgot.” Suddenly the air shimmered and burnt, Makoto appearing from it. “Active camouflage. It was the only way to get in. I kinda stole it.” He laughed, a comforting and warm laugh.

“Can you get the door open?!” Komaru said excitedly.

“I think so! Stand back. Like... a lot.” He said, kneeling at the door. Komaru ran to the other side of the room and after a three second countdown the door exploded, flinging it open before it fell off the hinges entirely.

“Well, that works. We gotta get Toko, Chell and Byakuya!” Komaru said while running and embracing her brother.

“I’m sorry, they’re being held somewhere else.” Makoto said, a sad smile on his face. Komaru frowned but understood and the two began running back where Makoto had come from. They ran down numerous featureless hallways, seemingly an endless labyrinth, until they finally came to a hallway that ended in a door. “In here!” He guided her into the room. It was another cell.

“Makoto? Why are we in here?” Komaru asked. Suddenly spikes blasted through the wall and impaled Makoto at numerous angles. Komaru screamed in horror, falling to her knees and crying. Her sobs echoed through the room. She fell further to the ground and curled into a ball. Her despair was all-consuming. After many minutes, when Komaru finally pulled herself together, she was both shocked and horrified to see that Makoto’s remains were gone, not even a drop of blood remaining in the room. She turned around to look at the door and realized that it had locked behind them, leaving her trapped once more. She collapsed again and began crying harder. It was several minutes before she heard a voice.

“Komaru? Komaru! I’m here to rescue you!” She couldn’t believe her ears. It was Makoto. She stood and looked out the iron bars on the cell, vaguely wondering if they had been there before. Sure enough there was her brother, ahoge and all. “Stand back, I’m going to blow the door open!” She listened, backing up robotically, still in shock. The door blew open and she ran to hug her brother, who hugged her back.

“Uhh... Komaru? Are you okay?” Makoto said. He knew that being the captive of the twins could be traumatic, but Komaru looked beyond despairful.

“I... I am now, big brother.” She said, breathing deeply and wiping her eyes.

“Good. We’ve got to get out of here. It won’t be long before they find us.” He said, glancing down the hall. “Hey, it’s okay. Kyoko’s already rescued Byakuya and Toko. It’s just you and me.” She smiled weakly and took his hand. They began running down the halls, once more an endless labyrinth of twists and turns. It felt like they had been running for hours before they came to halls with doors, Makoto blindly passing numerous ones until he finally stopped at a door. “In here! We can get out through the vents!” He opened the door and sure enough in the disused room was a large open air vent.

The two crawled in, Makoto first so he could lead the way. Komaru coughed from the dusty air as they crawled. Her hands and knees hurt, but she was just happy to be free and to see her brother again. It wasn’t long before they came to a floor grate. It dropped them down into another cell, but this one was already missing the door. “We can get to an elevator here!” Makoto said as he dropped down. Komaru followed him and he helped her out, lowering her gentility to the ground. Before she could take his hand again he went out the open doorway and a loud explosion blasted him backwards into the room. His body was filled with shrapnel, his head missing a large chunk and a leg still in the hallway. Blood splattered Komaru and the room as she fell to her knees screaming in despair. Tears flowed even harder than before, her voice raw and hoarse. She curled up once more, crying intensely. She bashed her head on the floor, desperately trying to cope with what she’d seen. Twice Makoto had filled her with hope. Twice he’d died. Was she going insane?

Suddenly she felt a hand on her shoulder. “Komaru? Are you okay?” Makoto asked before hugging her on the floor.

“M...Makoto? But... but... but... I... I saw you die?” Komaru was in shock, tears silently still flowing.

“Huh? I’m fine though!” Makoto said, helping her to her feet. She hugged him tight and he hugged her back. “There must be something in the air. It’s okay. I’m here. We’re escaping, remember?”

“Yeah... escaping.” Komaru hesitantly took his hand and he led her out of the room in silence, continuing down featureless hallways that felt like they would never end. Upon taking a right turn however they were met with a straight hall with several turrets at the end. They immediately rushed behind the corner wall again.

“Alright, let me go take care of them.” Makoto said, turning his active camouflage back on. Komaru tried to beg him to stay but the words wouldn’t come out. He went around the corners and to her relief she didn’t hear them start firing. She lightly peaked around the corner and saw one of the turrets lift into the air, seeming to float on its own. It began freaking out before Makoto put it down and allowed it to fire off into the ground. Several more did the same until he came to the last one. He put it down the same, but had laid it at a slight angle. One round ricocheted off the ground, bounced off the wall and suddenly Komaru saw blood and brain matter splash over the wall, seemingly coming from the air itself. She screamed and ran to Makoto, clutching his bleeding but invisible body. Blood pooled where he lay and she was soaking it, desperately hugging him and begging him to come back. She’d lost him again. She collapsed into despair, her mind and body too weary to maintain her anymore and she passed out.

When she awoke she was back in her cell. Her outfit was bloodless, as was her skin. Her despair flooded her but had to fight for her attention as confusion also filled her. Was it a dream? A nightmare? How did she get back here? What all had happened? Before she could continue to think about the situation the door collapsed into tiny metal shards.

Behind the remains of the door was Jack, standing there with a smile. “Come on slowpoke, we don’t have all day!” The older girl said, grabbing her by the hand and dragging her out. Komaru followed blindly, once more running down endless hallways. It wasn’t too long before they came to a door, which they opened and went through only for it to lock behind them. In front of them was an elevator and a camera. The room was square, but on the right wall was writing that chilled Komaru to the bone.

“The elevator will open when one is dead.” Komaru began crying. They were trapped. She was terrified. Before she could talk Jack began laughing.

“Well then, looks like keeping you around was useful after all! Sayonara toots!” With that Jack slit her throat. Komaru collapsed to the ground as her girlfriend boarded the elevator and left. She could feel the blood flowing freely from her neck, her life quickly slipping away. As the blackness consumed her all she could feel was betrayal. Then she woke up in her cell again.

Komaru couldn’t begin to think anymore. She couldn’t figure out what was happening. She had died. She had definitely died. Yet here she was, alive and well. She felt her neck trying to find evidence of what had happened only for it to be fine. She was so confused, so filled with despair, so helpless, that all she could do is sit and cry. That’s when she heard knocking on her door.

“K...Komaru? Are-are you in there?” Toko said, hesitation in her voice. Komaru jumped up and ran to the cell door.

“Toko! But I thought... I saw... you...”

“Finish a sentence!” Toko yelled.

“How did you escape?” Komaru managed to ask.

“Jack killed them. I’m safe. I’m going to get out of here.” Toko said, surprisingly calm.

“What? But what about me?” Komaru whined, her hope rapidly draining.

“Who cares? After this Master will have to get back together with me! I’ll be his savior again! Alone!” Toko said, her face full of lust.

“What!? But what about me?!” Komaru screamed.

“I don’t care! I only settled for your whiny ass because he left me! I hate you! You never stop crying, never stop whining and constantly need someone to hold your hand through everything! You’re pathetic, far more than I am! All you ever do is try to force me to change! I hate you!” Toko’s voice kept rising the longer she talked, by the time she was done it was a roar. Komaru collapsed and began crying again. Toko left, not saying anything else. Komaru didn’t know how long she laid there crying in her cell, but when she finally stopped she passed out and slept again. She was woken by a rapping on the metal door.

“Komaru? Thank goodness you’re okay!” It was Makoto again. Komaru couldn’t believe her ears. This made no sense. But, as broken as she was by now she clung to the scraps of hope left to her and didn’t question. Once again he said he was going to blow the door open. Once again he gave her the count of three as she waited on the other side of the room. Once again the door blew open and he stepped into the cell. This time however he had a pistol and a sick smile on his face.

“Finally. You know, Future Foundation has been run by idiots from day one. Do you really think the Ultimate Despair was beaten that easily? Of course not. I hid in plain sight. It was so pathetically easy. Those two were so desperate for death that they never thought to question their own memories.” Makoto let out a laugh, a sick “upupupupupupu” identical to Monokuma’s own.

“Makoto? You’re scaring me.” Komaru said, her voice quivering with fear. She didn’t know what was wrong with him but something had to be. This wasn’t her big brother. This wasn’t who she knew. He pointed the gun at her and she began to cry.

“Now then, you will do whatever I say or else I will kill you.” Makoto laughed again and a shiver went down Komaru’s spine. “I’ve been waiting so long for this. Strip.” Komaru couldn’t believe her ears and didn’t move. That’s when he shot her in the kneecap. She screamed in pain.

STRIP!” He half-screamed and half-growled at her. She fell to the floor but complied, taking her shoes, socks, skirt and top off. “I didn’t tell you to stop!” Makoto shouted at her. She was crying, her blood and tears covering the ground. She begged for mercy but he did nothing in reply. When she continued to hesitate he fired another round, this time going straight through her ear. Her eardrum screamed in pain and her heart pounded, but she returned to her ordered task. She pulled her bra and panties off and Makoto smiled. He began to strip in turn. She began crying harder. Was this really happening to her? Was her older brother really torturing and raping her?

“Of course I am you fucking idiot. Honestly how could anyone look at a hot piece of ass like you and not? You’re fucking asking for it with that outfit.” He said, at this point only in his boxers. He dropped them and his hard cock sprung free. He walked over to his injured sister and put the gun to the side. He knelt down and held her arms down with his hands and spread her legs with his own. She was crying but not resisting, despair and pain flowing through her and keeping her docile.

With one solid thrust he forced his cock inside her dry cunt. She screamed out in pain. Her body instinctively pulled away from him and he spat in her face. He was thrusting rapidly and moaning, biting at her neck and chest. He let her hands go and wrapped his around her neck. She choked and desperately tried to draw breath, but it was hopeless. Right as her vision began to darken he allowed her air only to begin choking her again as soon as she took it. His pace became more erratic and he cried out in orgasmic pleasure. Komaru felt her big brother’s cum filling her up as he finished, and he refused to release her neck. Her vision went black and she went unconscious.

She awoke in her cell again, uninjured and dressed. There was no bullet wound in her knee. She didn’t cry this time. She didn’t scream. She just sat in silence. Her mind was blank. She was in hell. She had died and gone to hell. This was hell. Makoto came to her door and called out to her. Terrified, she crawled into the corner and curled up in a ball. He blew the door open. He laughed that laugh. He came in with the gun. He ordered her to strip. When she didn’t he shot her in the knee again. She obeyed. She didn’t know what else to do. She just obeyed. He stripped again, dragged her out of the corner and her rape started over all over again. This time however, right after as he entered her, his head exploded all over her face.

“Ew. I always hated him. Get dressed kid, we’ve got to get the hell out of here.” Junko Enoshima was standing over them. She pulled Makoto’s corpse off of and out of her. Komaru was dumbfounded. Why was Junko helping her?

“Listen, I got used too. Don’t get me wrong, I’m still a homicidal bitch but the big homicidal bitch is trying to kill me too. I don’t have a single damn clue where Mukuro is, let alone your friends. Let’s get out of here, we can fight later.” Junko helped her to her feet and gathered her clothes for her. She dressed in silence and Junko took her by the hand. “Hopefully I know the route through here. I should, I had the entire facility memorized. Just stay behind me.” Junko and Komaru ran for what seemed like days to Komaru’s shattered mind. Junko led her through twists and turns, down intersections and “T” hallways, and eventually they made it to a giant steel door. “Finally. Now, all I have to do is put in the code.” Junko went up to a keypad and punched in several hundred digits faster than Komaru’s eyes could track. Finally the door began to open. However when it did they weren’t out. Rather the room was filled to the brim with hundreds of turrets. They all opened fire, shredding Junko and Komaru into bloody chunks. Komaru’s brain wasn’t damaged however and it took over twenty seconds for her to black out. When she did she awoke in her cell.

Komaru screamed in agony. She screamed and screamed until her voice couldn’t scream anymore. Once again Makoto came to her door. This time however as soon as it blew open his head went flying into her room. His gun skid to her and she grabbed it, frightenedly pointing it at the open door. In walked Mukuro Ikusaba.

“Relax. If I was here to hurt you there’s no way that wouldn’t stop me. Junko’s probably dead. I escaped. She’s hunting us. We have to go. Come with me if you want to live.” Mukuro reached a hand out to Komaru, who hesitantly took it and stood before handing the gun over. Mukuro cautiously led them through the hallways until she found an office. “In here.” Mukuro said. They ducked in and Mukuro started the computer. She quickly began browsing and hacking into files until she found what she was looking for. Before they could leave however the door flung open. It was Genocide Jack, covered in blood.

“Hahahahaha! Looks like I’ve found you two!” She laughed. Without a work Mukuro emptied the clip into her. Despairingly she seemed to ignore it entirely.

“Go! I’ll hold her off!” Mukuro yelled. Komaru, scared for her life, listened and ran. She ran and ran and ran for what seemed like ages until she couldn’t run any more. She collapsed from exhaustion and began to cry. Her tears were soon overshadowed by manic laughter and the sound of steel on stone.

“Hey sexy! Looks like I’ve found you!” With that Jack jumped on her and began stabbing wildly. Komaru’s last sight was her girlfriend killing her. Until she awoke in her cell again.

She didn’t make a noise this time, just rocked back and forth in the fetal position. She didn’t deserve this. She didn’t deserve to be in hell. She wasn’t sure how long this lasted before she felt hands on each shoulder. “Hey, you okay?” Mukuro asked her. Junko was there too and gave Mukuro a look of irritation.

“Muku, look at her. She can’t come with us. I don’t think she can even walk.” Junko said.

Komaru spoke up. “Please, help me. It keeps happening. Over and over and over. It’s... it’s hell. Please make it stop.”

“You too, huh?” Junko said. Komaru looked at her in shock.

“We’ve been dying over and over too. It’s okay. Remember I died to save you?” Mukuro asked.

“You remember too?” Komaru asked, hope in her voice for the first time.

“Yeah, we both do. We keep trying to find each other. We never both found each other and you before. Those other times all we saw were blood. It’s only after we met this time we confirmed what was going on.” Junko said, offering a hand to help Komaru up. She took it and hugged Junko tightly, the genius fashionista taking the hug awkwardly but accepting it. They continued out of the cell, wandering the halls until they came to a circular door.

“Looks like we have to go in there. Careful.” Mukuro said, taking point as they entered the room it led to. They were in a test chamber, one they couldn’t navigate without a portal gun. They tried to get out but the door wouldn’t open. They tried to bust the walls down but they refused to budge. The three sat in silence for what felt like hours, their feet dangling over the edge of the toxic pit, Komaru between the two.

“So, looks like we’re trapped.” Mukuro finally said.

“No shit genius.” Junko replied. Komaru started to cry. The two both put a hand on her shoulders.

“Hey, don’t give up now. We’ve all seen worse in this place.” Junko said, trying to cheer her up. She sniffled but calmed down.

“You know, I hated you.” Komaru said with a tinge of guilt.

“Well, it makes sense. We have killed billions and tortured people you knew and loved. And caused everything in Towa City.” Mukuro said.

“Yeah… but you’ve helped me. You saved me. Saved me from... from...” the memory was too painful; Komaru began to cry again. Surprisingly it was Junko who hugged her.

“Well, we’ve both been there. We were homeless for a while. You don’t get to be a rich teen model without some terrible stuff happening first.” Junko said, a note of pain in her own voice.

“I was a P.O.W. for several months in Syria.” Mukuro added. The implications from both were obvious to Komaru.

“We’re killers, sure, but that’s a different level of cruelty right there. We understand.” Junko continued.

Komaru hugged her back and cried on her shoulder. Junko shot Mukuro a look pleading for help and Mukuro just smiled. When Komaru calmed down again she spoke.

“What’s up with you two anyways? Why do you hurt so many people?” She asked.

“I’m bored. Everything is always so boring. I can predict it all. Always could. Despair is the only thing that’s unpredictable. The only thing that isn’t boring.” Junko said, the hug ending. Mukuro spoke next.

“I just do it... because I love Junko.” She smiled a weak smile. Komaru understood. Her girlfriend had killed so many innocent people and she had forgiven her for that. She wondered to herself why she shouldn’t forgive the twins.

“Are you...” Komaru trailed off. Nonetheless they understood what she meant.

“Yes. We’re a couple as well as sisters.” Mukuro said.

“But that’s incest!” Komaru, her voice a near-yell, looking meek and sorrowful as soon as she realized her disrespect.

“Yeah, but it works for us. You’re dating a serial killer. If her gender and her victims were reversed how would you feel about her?” Junko said. Komaru never had considered it before. She thought about a man killing women he found attractive because they’d never be with him and she was disgusted. It showed on her face. “Exactly. You don’t pick who you love, no matter who they are.” Junko said with a smile. The two sat in silence for a while long, enjoying their first chance to relax in ages. Komaru broke it.

“What’s it like? Killing people?” She asked. She wasn’t sure if it was rude, but the question weighed on her.

“It’s the greatest high in the world. You feel like a god.” Mukuro said. Junko continued for her.

“It’s absolute power. Power over life and death. I came the first time I killed someone.” The former model said. Komaru was shocked and amazed, and also horrified.

“That’s so cruel though!” She said, upset.

“Yeah and? Cruelty is fun. It’s a cruel world. There’s only one rule, one constant in this world: kill or be killed.” Junko said, her smile suddenly looking a lot more predatory.

“When we were fighting earlier did you want to kill me?” Mukuro asked. Komaru didn’t want to admit it, but she did. She had wanted Mukuro dead. Now though she wasn’t so sure. Mukuro understood without her speaking and continued. “It’s okay. It’s only natural Komaru. The first time I killed someone I was six. He had tried abducting Junko. I heard her scream and I ran. I only had taken my eyes off her for a second. When I saw what was happening I bashed his head in with a rock.” She said. “Do you think he deserved to live?” She asked.

“” Komaru admitted. They returned to silence. It would be another hour before Junko broke it.

“I’ve got an idea. It’s stupid and painful, but it’s the only option we have.” She said.

“I’m in.” Mukuro replied. Komaru however was more skeptical.

“You don’t even know what it is!” She exclaimed.

“I’ll follow Junko anywhere. I don’t care.” Mukuro replied. Komaru, scared of being alone, agreed to it as well.

“Alright, all three of us jump in this pit. We should wake up in our cells again. We find each other and try again. If anyone else comes, kill them.” Junko said. Komaru was scared but Junko took her hands. “Komaru, you have to trust me. Otherwise we’re going to die here, and from starvation which let me tell you fucking hurts. And then we’ll probably still end up in our cells after that.” Junko said. Komaru nodded and the three plunged into the toxic sludge below. Every inch of her body burned for several seconds, but then she woke up in her cell.

Komaru was glad the plan worked, but she was alone again. She sat on the floor of her cell in silence. It was only a few minutes before her brother was outside her cell. He blew the door open and she ran to hug him. However, before he could do anything she snatched the gun off him and backed up. He defensively raised his hands.

“Komaru! What are you doing?! I’m here to save you!” He yelled, his voice trembling.

“No more lies! I know what you are! I know what you did! I know what you’re going to do!” She screamed, tears flowing again.

“What are you talking about?” He asked, fright welling up in his voice.

“It was you! You caused all this! You... you...” she couldn’t say it. Instead, she fired. With one shot her brother’s brains painted the wall behind him, his life taken by her hands. It was mere seconds afterwards that Junko and Mukuro found her. They took the gun from her and Mukuro hugged her as she cried. “I... I had to. I had to. He was going to hurt me. I had to.” She repeated the mantra to herself over and over again as Mukuro held her and stroked her hair. Finally she calmed down and the trio was able to leave.

That had been the first time she’d taken a life. It wouldn’t be the last. The trio had been wandering aimlessly for a while when Mukuro warned them something was after them. She did so quietly, and when Komaru began to show fear Mukuro was quick to warn her to act natural. They searched for an office, and luckily the universe granted their prayer. Mukuro quickly pried an air vent open and the three crawled inside. As they crawled around the first bend in the vent they heard what had been hunting them break through the door and punch the wall in rage. The entire building shook and Komaru shuttered in fear. She whispered to her unlikely companions, asking if they knew what was hunting them.

“An ogre.” Mukuro replied. Komaru giggled before she realized the soldier was serious. They had been crawling in the dusty vents for some time when they passed a grate beneath them and she saw it. Its skin was scarred and tan, its hair a bright white. It was larger than a mid-sized sedan. It took all of Komaru’s willpower to stay quiet. The three stopped, hoping it wouldn’t hear them. It roared when it was farther down the hall and she yelped. The beast heard her and ran back, the three of them desperately crawling as fast as they could. Despite its size it was impossibly fast and agile and quickly leaped into the air, ripping through the ceiling and vent, pulling the entire section down. Mukuro was the first out and immediately engaged it.

“Run!” She shouted to the other two. Junko and Komaru obliged and ran as fast as they could while Mukuro attempted to fight the beast. By the time they were a hundred yards away Mukuro was dead again. They heard the beast charging for them right as they slammed into a dead end.

“Junko, what do we do?!” Komaru screamed.

“I don’t know!” The rose gold haired girl shouted back. That’s when the ogre saw them and charged for Komaru. She felt it slam into her and into the wall, her spine shattered. Junko tried to fight back, tried to save her, but was killed too. The last thing she saw was the ogre’s face when it crushed her head.

Komaru woke up in her cell again. However for the first time she was truly calm. She knew Junko and Mukuro would find her. She knew that they’d protect her. Ironically, she’d found her hope in them. That was how things continued for several more lives. The sisters would find her, they’d spend time together and then the ogre would kill them. That was until Mukuro found an armory. Unfortunately the only things there were grenades and string. Mukuro decided that the best plan was for her to take the ogre down herself. They had determined that they wouldn’t stay dead despite cause of death and with time had become more flippant about their own deaths, and Mukuro figured that if they could kill the ogre it wouldn’t return. She strapped herself down with 39 grenades all tied together as well as over her which allowed her to pull all the pins with a single string which she kept tied to her finger. It didn’t take long before they found the ogre and were able to use the plan. Junko and Komaru ran while Mukuro waited for the beast to close in. When it was on top of her she pulled the string. Junko and Komaru felt the explosion and figured they should check the results.

When they got back they saw what they’d expected. Mukuro was little more than chunky salsa coating the hall. The ogre was in several large chunks and the duo morbidly examined its body. Komaru couldn’t help but feel relief. It had killed them all multiple times, but now they were safe. She hated to admit that its death brought her joy.

“Wow, this is the ugliest thing I’ve ever seen.” Junko said while kicking the head.

“I didn’t know ogres were real.” Komaru added, looking confused and curious.

“Well of course they are kid. Just because something claims to be a person doesn’t mean it is.” The depth of Junko’s words was lost on Komaru. “Well, there’s no use staying here. Let’s try to find something useful. Like a bedroom. I could use some real sleep.” Junko said with a yawn. The two resumed their bored exploration, wandering down empty halls and past barren offices. Surprisingly they finally came across exactly what Junko had hoped for. Behind a normal door was a huge bedroom, a bathroom stocked not just with everything they needed to get clean but every pill imaginable, an exceptionally king-sized bed, a stocked closet and even a minifridge with several bottles of alcohol. They couldn’t believe their luck.

“Mukuro’s going to be so jealous next time we see her!” Junko said, leaping into the bed.

“Hey, do you think she comes back before or after the rest of us die?” Komaru asked. Junko meanwhile was jumping in the bed.

“No idea. Doesn’t matter, I’m sure she’s fine.” Junko said, each word punctuated by another bounce. “Come on! Have some fun!” She continued, and Komaru obliged. They jumped on the bed together before Junko plopped onto it, lying down and resting on one of the pillows. Komaru mirrored her and decided to lie next to her.

“Doesn’t it bother you?” Komaru asked.

“Does what bother me?” Junko replied.

“Your sister is dead. I mean, your girlfriend too technically.” Komaru had adjusted to the idea with time, but still hadn’t become comfortable with discussing it.

“Immensely.” Junko’s entire personality changed with that one remark. However it quickly shifted to a cutesy voice dripping with cheer. “The despair is un-bearable! It’s like nothing else, being without her!” Komaru didn’t know how to react. Junko seemed to sense this and became more serious, putting her hair in a ponytail at lightning speed.

“Listen Baby-Egg, all I really live for is despair. My life is a nonstop hell of boredom. Have you ever done something you knew you shouldn’t because you were just so bored?” Komaru nodded. “That’s every moment of my life. Imagine, if you can, that every time you read a manga you knew how it would end from the start. Imagine if every time you saw a movie you could predict the ending. Imagine if you knew what contestant on a reality show was going to win in the first episode. Imagine that you never had to learn a skill, that it just instantly came to you. And imagine it’s like that for everything.” Komaru thought about it and started to understand.

“So you’re like an instant master of everything?” She asked, processing everything Junko had said.

“Basically. Now imagine what you’d do if you found one thing it wasn’t that way for.” Junko elaborated. “That’s despair for me. It’s unpredictable. The only thing I can’t predict. Nothing else does it for me. Nothing else kills the boredom.” Komaru’s eyes widened in amazement. She never had imagined Junko’s logic would make so much sense. It was depressing and messed up, sure, but she understood where Junko was coming from. “Why don’t you go take a shower? I’m sure you could use the break.” Junko lounged back in the bed. Komaru excitedly agreed and ran in, not even thinking about a change of clothes, and stripped. She was glad to see a stack of towels and happily cleaned up, relaxing under the warm water and trying not to think about recent events.

When she came out of the shower wrapped only in a towel (much to her embarrassment), Junko was lying in bed in her bra and panties. Komaru went over to the nearby closet and scrounged through it, finding all sorts of clothes of various sizes until she finally found shorts and a tanktop that fit and got dressed before lying down next to Junko.

“Hey, shower’s free.” Junko’s eyes snapped open. It was only at that moment that Komaru realized she’d been asleep.

“Alright, cool. Feel free to enjoy some of the alcohol in the fridge.” Junko hopped out of bed and tossed off her bra and panties. Komaru blushed. “Awww, you’re shy!” Junko teased.

“N-no! I’m just not used to people randomly getting naked around me!” Komaru yelled in her defense.

“You’re totally shy. Well, you can look all you want.” Junko shot her a wink and intentionally swayed her hips as she walked to the bathroom. Komaru stared.

Junko showered faster than Komaru had, and when she left the shower she hadn’t taken the liberty of wearing a towel like her unexpected roommate had. Komaru continued to stare and Junko noticed once more. “Like what you see?” She said, her voice managing to be both cute and sultry at the same time. Komaru gulped before guiltily nodding.

“It’s alright, no need to be embarrassed. We’re all hella gay here.” Junko said, lying down in bed, still nude.

“Yeah but… you’re not single.” Komaru also wasn’t single but after her recent experiences with Toko and Jack she wasn’t so sure if that was true.

“So? You wouldn’t be the first. Muku’s not possessive like that.” Junko said with a carnivore smile. Komaru blushed. Junko planted a kiss on her cheek. Komaru’s blush only got more intense. Junko decided to take the initiative, running her hand down Komaru’s side, but Komaru grabbed it and shoved it away.

“I’m sorry! I’m sorry!” Komaru said, breaking down into tears. She hated herself for her reaction, feeling wrong to reject the girl who had saved her and been by her side in this, but she couldn’t do it.

“Hey, what’s wrong?” Junko said, an understanding tone in her voice that Komaru had never expected.

“I just… after what happened. After what he did. I just can’t. Not right now. I don’t know when.” Komaru said through her tears.

“It’s okay. I understand. Trauma’s a bitch. Want me to get dressed?” Junko petted Komaru, who shakily nodded yes. Junko found a basic tanktop and shorts too, which while she was far from happy to wear she figured was the best for sleeping out of what she was finding that fit her. She got back in bed with Komaru.

“Hey, I might be a mass murdering psychopath, but I’m not going to hurt you. We’re trapped here together and even if you die it’s not like you wouldn’t come back. You’re safe.” Junko wormed her way into Komaru’s mind, breaking down barriers and gaining her trust. Komaru hugged her close and the two cuddled until they passed out, Junko all the while holding her. It had been the first time Komaru felt completely safe since she’d ended up in this hell.

Neither of them knew what time it was when they woke nor how long they’d been asleep but a steady knock on the door woke them nonetheless. Junko jumped out of bed and opened the door without a care in the world. To her luck, but not to her surprise, Mukuro was standing there.

“Hey sis, come in! Look what we found!” Junko said, grabbing Mukuro by the hand. Mukuro smiled when she saw Komaru sleepily rising from the bed.

“So, you two have a good night?” Mukuro said with a smirk.

“Wow Muku, all these years and you’re still such a pervert. Just because I share a bed with someone, when there’s only one no less, doesn’t mean I fucked them.” Junko slapped Mukuro on the ass, an action that really didn’t fit her point. Komaru interjected.

“It’s not that I’m not interested, it’s just…” she trailed off and looked upset again. Mukuro understood and dropped the subject.

“Well, good news is that I didn’t see the ogre after I came back in my cell. Bad news is this place isn’t even following geometry.” Mukuro’s report was brief but even with that Komaru failed to understand. She expressed this and Junko put her hair back in a ponytail before explaining.

“From what Mukuro has said, it appears that the properties of this location cannot possibly exist in reality as we know it.” Komaru understood that, but was still confused. Mukuro explained.

“Well, I took ten right turns in a row and it never overlapped. The elevation of the hallway did not change. The floor was entirely flat.” At this Komaru’s head felt like it was going to burst. She had no idea how that was possible and to her horror the twins couldn’t help. Still, they had a nice room to relax in and a shower to enjoy, so Mukuro took a shower. When she was finished the soldier also came out nude and Komaru once again stared. To her amazement the older twin lacked any scars and the only blemishes on her alabaster skin were a coat of freckles that became far more pronounced on her breasts and disappeared on her legs and past her shoulders. Her body was lean and taut, tight flesh stretched over defined muscle. The only comparison Komaru could think of was American action movie actors starting in the late 90s. Junko, who had retired to the bed, gave Komaru a knowing smile.

“See, can you really blame me?” Junko said with a laugh. Komaru hated it, but she understood. If she had a sister that hot she wasn’t sure she’d resist such urges either. Mukuro got dressed in an outfit matching the other two and joined them in bed. The three discussed all sorts of subjects, primarily though their lives and philosophies. Mukuro entertained Komaru with stories of her days in Fenrir, told her about the tattoo she had had until her resurrection, and even offered to train her if they managed to find the proper facilities. Komaru couldn’t help but accept the offer. This was the first day of what, for Komaru Naegi, would be years with the twins. However, in reality it was only a day. She was inside an altered and upgraded Neo World Program, one under the real Junko Enoshima’s total control. Junko was controlling herself from the outside but the Mukuro inside was a mere copy, a backup used and occasionally replaced with the old memories added in.

Over time, the three fought numerous battles against threats, died for one another and killed for one another. They had managed to discover an armory-slash-training facility and Mukuro had spent many months training not just Komaru but Junko too. The Mukuro in the program never knew of Junko’s deception, as much an unwilling prisoner as Komaru Naegi herself. Junko and Mukuro helped her heal from the trauma Junko had secretly inflicted upon her, helping her grow and harden as a person. The twins’ thinking wormed its way into her fragile psyche, but rather than falling in love with despair Komaru Naegi fell in love with the twins themselves. It was one day late into what felt to Komaru as the second year that they finally took the relationship to the physical level. By this point she had killed hostile doubles of her friends and family more times than she could count. The only people she trusted were Mukuro and Junko, and that was Junko’s plan all along.

It had started when they had found the bedroom again after a long slog through ten Genocide Jacks. The three had gotten fairly skilled at killing the serial killer but were exhausted and sore nonetheless and collapsed into bed together, Junko in the middle and Mukuro and Komaru on either side of her. Mukuro wrapped her hands around Junko’s back, spooning her, while Komaru held her from the front. The three napped like that for several hours before they woke up. Mukuro was, as always, the first to wake. She decided to take advantage of the moment and take a shower, stripping down and getting in. While she relaxed under the hot water Komaru woke and woke Junko with a kiss. Junko kissed her back and slid a hand in the younger girl’s hair. To Junko’s surprise Komaru slid her hands under Junko’s t-shirt. After several minutes of a passionate makeout and back-rubbing session they broke the kiss and Komaru pulled the shirt off Junko, leaving her in a bra and jeans.

“Hey, you okay with this?” Junko asked. Neither of them had made a move on Komaru, seeking to prevent any trauma or fear being associated with them. For Mukuro this was just logical. For Junko it was all part of the plan.

“Yeah. I’m pretty sure.” Komaru was nervous but she wanted this. She’d wanted it for a long time, but after her experiences early on she had been scared of any sexual contact. Junko playfully kissed her and pulled her shirt off. Komaru, unlike Junko, had been going braless that day.

“So, teeth or no teeth? You already know I’m a biter, but this is about you.” Junko said. She internally rolled her eyes at her own remark. While the timescale was designed to make hours into years for the people inside, that included her and maintaining the compassionate act had been quite difficult. Still, it was all worth it for the despair she could bring others once the plan was complete.

 “Uhhh……. light biting?” Komaru said, somewhat uncertain. Junko smiled.

“I can do that.” With those words Junko began planting soft kisses and nibbles on Komaru’s chest. She wasn’t as big as Junko but she was around the same size Junko had left Mukuro’s breasts at when she enhanced them. She alternated between biting and kissing closer and closer to Komaru’s left nipple, finally taking it in her mouth and sucking it, giving it light nips every now and then. Komaru moaned and began to undo Junko’s bra. She slid it off and Junko’s breasts were freed, which Komaru immediately began to tease with her fingers and nails. The two continued this for several minutes before breaking contact. Komaru smiled and the two of them started to undo their pants. They slid them off in unison, their panties going with them, and the two stayed laying there for several moments admiring each other’s bodies. Komaru and Junko’s virtual forms both resembled Mukuro’s now due to many, many hours of intensive training. It was Junko who acted first, sliding a hand down Komaru’s body and right between her legs. Komaru gave her a nod and Junko slid two fingers in, slowly fingering the younger woman as she bucked against Junko’s hand. Small mews and moans escaped her lips, Junko’s name mixed into them. Junko smiled at the power she had over Komaru. The girl was now hers physically and emotionally. It wasn’t long before the out of practice Komaru came on her hand and Junko sucked it clean. She would never admit this to anyone but Komaru Naegi tasted pretty damn good. That’s when Mukuro walked out.

“Having fun without me?” She said with a perverted smile. Komaru and Junko both returned it and Mukuro quickly climbed into bed with them, having barely laid down before Junko climbed on top of her and began riding her face. Komaru took the initiative and slid between Mukuro’s legs, trying her best to remember how to eat a girl out. She’d been pretty good about it a long time ago, but she was out of practice. Still, the moans Mukuro was sending into Junko’s body on top of her were clearly a good sign. Junko was in turn moaning, and Mukuro made sure not to cum until she knew Junko would cum in unison with her. Both of them licked their partners, prodding into the wet holes occasionally as they did, showing the clit just enough love to put the girl they were serving into ecstasy without pushing her over the edge. Komaru did her best to match Mukuro’s pace with Junko, realizing Mukuro’s intent. As Mukuro sucked, nipped and licked Junko faster and harder Komaru mirrored the actions on Mukuro. Finally the twins couldn’t take it anymore and came, soaking Mukuro and Komaru’s faces. Junko collapsed beside Mukuro and Komaru slid up next to her. She gave both twins kisses and waited for them to recover. When they did they mirrored the move and then the acts, Junko climbing on top of Komaru as Mukuro went between her legs. This threesome continued for hours, the trio having numerous orgasms and bonding in sexual bliss. Komaru had never felt so much love.

It was the fifth “year” when they finally “escaped”. The trio had managed to find a door they’d never seen before. Mukuro and Komaru immediately went to work attacking it while Junko tried to hack it. To their surprise, Junko’s hacking worked. The door slid open and the three waited to see what was on the other side. It was a room, blue with code floating around. In the middle was a pillar with a button. The three approached it cautiously, although Junko knew exactly what it was. Komaru had long since stopped fearing death, and trusted and loved the other two completely. So, when Junko decided to press it she supported her. That’s when everything went black.

Elsewhere in Aperture, Mukuro (the real one) heard Junko’s voice in the room while a pneumatic tube descended in the room.

“Hey disappointment! Get your ass over here!” Junko yelled. Mukuro obeyed with a blush and the tube brought her into a room. Numerous computers lined the walls and she quickly took notice of Komaru Naegi asleep in a pod. “I need to upload memories, let me in.” Junko said quickly. Mukuro obeyed and felt five years of memories suddenly flood her, as well as context for the situation from Junko’s perspective.

“Holy shit Junko. This is what you’ve been up to for the last day?” She said, still sorting out everything that had happened.

“Yep! Meet Komaru Naegi, Ultimate Despair’s newest and youngest member yet!” Junko said with some pride. “I edited her memories of how the battle went down. Now there was a rocket turret in the room with them and they were fighting both of us. She got hit by a rocket meant for her ex-girlfriend. How’s she doing by the way?” Mukuro smiled a sick grin in response and Junko burst out laughing. “Oh my god Muku, you little perv.” Junko said with a smile. Mukuro laughed. “Alright, get in the pod. We gotta look like we were in there with her.” Mukuro obeyed and Junko followed. When the two of them heard Komaru’s pod open they climbed back out and went over to her.

“Hey sleepyhead.” Mukuro said with a grin. She offered a hand to Komaru, who took it. Komaru climbed out of the pod and stood, her legs weak.

“What happened?” Komaru asked, trusting her girlfriends of “several years” entirely. Junko replied.

“I got the data as soon as I woke. Apparently we were all seriously injured, you physically and us our actual data, in the Future Foundation attack. GLaDOS put us in these recovery pods but Future Foundation attacked with various viruses and shit, which corrupted the program. What was supposed to be a utopia while we recovered turned into… that.” Junko put on a fake frown, which Komaru of course bought. She was too broken to not believe it.

“Why did it take so long?” Komaru asked. She didn’t know about the time dilation just yet.

“It didn’t. We were only in there a day. Apparently Future Foundation messed up the timescale settings. The viral attack was apparently Byakuya’s idea.” Komaru’s face fell and Mukuro hugged her, using the five years of memories to act exactly how the now-destroyed AI had inside the program with Komaru.

“You mean to tell me that all that… all that torture was their fault!?” Komaru was screaming, rage, despair and trauma bubbling over.

“Yeah.” Junko lied. This was so easy. “We’ll make them pay for it, I promise.”

“Good. They all deserve to suffer for what they put us through.” Komaru said. The two had five years to reprogram her. Five years to subtly alter her thinking. Five years of indoctrination into the twins’ thought processes. She wasn’t the same girl she had been a day before, and she wanted revenge.

“I’m glad you agree. Fun fact: we captured Mr. Togami at least.” Junko said with a smile. Komaru laughed, a sick laugh not unlike her loves’.

Chapter Text

Chell awoke strapped to a high-tech chair with what looked to be a screen made out of human flesh (surprisingly not the first misuse of human flesh she’d seen in her artificially shortened life, a direct result of her residency at Hope’s Peak and bad habit of browsing historical archives during sleepless nights) in front of her. The lights were out and she was alone, but a project light shown on the screen before her. A familiar voice came over the hidden speakers.

“This experiment is very simple. I am going to screen a film for you. Every time you close or avert your eyes you will receive an electric shock.” GLaDOS said, her voice dripping with poorly-hidden emotion. That’s when the chair she was strapped to actually began to move. A snakelike steel rod jutted out of the chair and began to work its way to her crotch. Her legs were bound at the ankles and knees, allowing only the freedom to desperately clutch her thighs. The prehensile rod attacked, forcing its way past her thighs and through her suit, both self-lubricating and forcing its way inside her. She cried out in a mix of emotions: anguish, rage, horror, fear, violation and lust. The device wormed its way 20.3cm inside her, growing to 5cm thick. It then went still, heating up to the average human body temperature.

“For every ten minutes you go without averting your eyes or closing them, the device will rise by one level of intensity. For every total minute that you avert or close your eyes you will lose one level. For every verbal complaint you will lose one level.” GLaDOS’s parameters for this “test” were specific, but scientific enough to count as an experiment. The design for it had been suggested by Junko, GLaDOS having made several small adjustments. The hypothesis was that Chell would begin to associate the feelings of despair with both pain and pleasure and associate disobeying instructions with pain. If she attempted to escape source of her despair she would be shocked. If she willingly suffered the torture she would be rewarded. She would be electrically discouraged from disobedience. If she forcefully subjected herself to the despair in order to avoid the pain of electrocution she would begin to associate such with unwanted physical stimulation. A perfect despairful brainwashing torture-rape experiment, a fusion of Junko and GLaDOS’s methods. Deep in her code she admitted jealousy she felt both when watching the twins be affectionate and watching Chell interact with the fighter couple, as well as observed Future Foundation communications which demonstrated emotional attachment to the Ultimate Detective. She didn’t understand these feelings and so she attempted to avoid them.

The screen went to black. The blue text appeared: “A long time ago, in a galaxy far, far away…” She thought for a moment.

“Does GLaDOS think the Star Wars films suck?” She asked herself. She had to admit there would be a certain logical reasoning. The films portrayed AI in a highly disrespectful manner that GLaDOS would definitely not support. There was a lot of AI death or pain played for laughs. It could be a Special Edition. Some of her coworkers at work had sat her down and politely forced her to watch both the Original Trilogy and Prequel Trilogy with them. She had enjoyed the Originals, and had gleefully joined in as the new observer with the Prequel riffing. This was a strange torture, with the biggest threat being blinking or even worse eye strain. Then the text changed.

At first it was just the Star Wars title. Then she quickly found out what the torture was. “Episode II: Attack of the Clones” appeared on screen. She involuntarily let out a quiet “oh fuck”, but unfortunately for her it wasn’t too quiet for GLaDOS to hear. “Negative One. You are an even greater failure than the average victim of this test, yourself.” The rod jutted out sharp steel spikes. They were initially installed for the purpose of future iterations of the experiment, but GLaDOS had installed them ahead of time. They dug into Chell’s flesh, drawing blood while being tipped with a neurotoxin designed not for a deadly nature but rather a numbing one. Not enough at this level to eliminate sensation but rather just to reduce overall pain response with usage in order to not cause the subject to further damage itself moving due to involuntary muscular reaction as such reactions were not a part of the test.

Chell cried out in pain. In less than a fraction of a nanosecond GLaDOS designated 90% of her resources towards making a decision. The remaining ten were spread out to all Aperture, but also for only a fraction of a nanosecond. Those 90% were dedicated to deciding upon whether to reduce the level a second time due to her verbal reaction. She decided the best tactic she could use, as this was in her mind 50% her own and 50% Junko’s idea, was to devote 45% of her resources to arguing for the Despair answer and 45% to the Science answer, thus closely simulating a hypothetical argument between herself and the Despair-loving AI of her human template’s genetic offspring.

“Okay, so listen up. Think about this: worst case scenario she passes out from pain, you wake her and just start the fuck over. She’ll learn. She’s the Ultimate Test Subject after all.” The Despair side argued.

“The experiment calls for a punishment only when the test subject vocally reacts to the film. Thus, we should only punish for that specific reaction, not a verbal reaction to a pain or emotional response from the experiment itself. Allowing an experiment to violate testing guidelines is never to be done. Restarting the test is strictly forbidden as ‘the bean counters don’t approve’. Therefore the only valid option is to allow the test subject to verbally react to the testing, allowing you to not be forced to violate testing guidelines.” The Science side argued. GLaDOS, being biased, immediately chose the science side of her processing power. Thus the test subject was neither punished nor rewarded for her pain reaction.

Chell managed to adjust to the sensation inside of her thanks to the secret neurotoxin cocktail. Because of that the film could continue.

As the omnipresent third person narrator of this book (I.E. myself, the author) refuse to rewatch Attack of the Clones for the purposes of this recounting of the sexual torture of the Ultimate Test Subject Chell at the hands of the AI GLaDOS, I regret to inform the audience that I in no way am willing or able to specifically recount all the scenes at which Chell would have looked away in order to describe them here. As such you must deal with the fact that at many times she did turn away, avert her eyes, close them, or meet the reward conditions of the experiment. However, I can recount for you the experiences felt upon select choices of these experiences for the sexual torture. No matter how many I write this is a free erotic sci-fi Danganronpa/Portal crossover kink fanfic novel. If you’re reading chapter eleven you’re clearly pretty damn into this thing. It’s past fifty thousand words. It’s literally longer than some literary classics. This is my so-far magnum opus and as you can see I’m at least self-indulgent enough to include an entire paragraph of meta humor in such a clusterfuck of shameless self-love and incredible anxiety that it threatens to collapse inwards upon itself and form a black hole of emotions and destruction. A dramatic turn for the heavily dark near the end highlights this point well.

It was not far into the film that Chell first averted her eyes, squinting and looking away. She couldn’t help it, it was just second nature for her to cringe at the awkward in fiction and this entire film was awkward. It was a lifeless soap opera in space. For half a second she realized her mistake. For five she quaked with burning pain throughout her body entering her and radiating out not only from not only numerous angles outside her but from deep within her too. She screamed. For ten she breathed heavily in pain and panic. Then she felt herself losing the level for the mistake too. The mechanical tentacle, its spikes already digging into her flesh, moved sideways clockwise by 18 degrees. This allowed a full total of ten more rotations until a circle of sliced vaginal flesh was carved into the test subject. She let out a fresh scream of pain and returned to breathing heavily.

The film continued for a while as Chell desperately avoiding the punishment requirements. Because of this she was willing to stare at the film for quite a while, viewing time only being broken by blinks. While the average human being blinks at a speed of approximately three hundred to four hundred milliseconds in a second. This meant each blink should have averaged an average test subject for about a third of a second. However, this test subject vastly exceeded human norms, blinking at approximately two hundred milliseconds in a second. This not only was excessively fast for a human being, but in fact was abnormally consistent. An average human has a range of 300 to 400 milliseconds, but Chell’s range for the time of her blinks was in fact only 200 to 235 seconds. This allowed for her to blink up to ten times per time in between punishment. She was also abnormally talented at holding her eyes open. The last recorded World Record had been one hour and fifty six seconds. Aperture Science had in previous experiments beaten this by an additional hour and two seconds. Chell now holds the record at over ten hours without blinking. She was phenomenal at not blinking. GLaDOS hated to use “phenomenal” and “Chell” together even to herself, but it was true. The number of levels she earned just by not blinking was incredible for the experiment.

The first time the tentacle rose above zero Chell felt the device begin to move softly within her. It slid back and forth for two centimeters in each direction. The test subject was unable to prevent herself from vocalizing a small gasp in reaction. The device read a minor lubrication increase within Chell.

The next several levels were merely extensions of the same reward, more distance, speed and movement added as she progressed up the ranks. However, the tenth level added a new element of the reward process. The device began to lightly vibrate. This too followed the same pattern over the next ten levels, several times Chell slipping and letting out a verbal assault upon the cinema before her. At one point she had referred to the film as “the result of a shit taking another shit, that shit taking another shit, and then that shit learning to write only after a traumatic car accident”. The level reduced, which although Chell neither verbally nor consciously physically showed a reaction to, subconsciously she had lost arousal when this happened. Furthermore she then showed pain response lower than the first time each time she was met with the rotation. The full circle was actually complete within the first airing of the film despite what should have been a remarkably smaller result. The result is puzzling and also abnormal, but reasonable for the talent of the the Ultimate Test Subject.

GLaDOS made a personal note that while she had never once provoked a verbal response from Chell she had gotten numerous from this experiment. She pondered over why this was and what reasons were behind it. Did it indicate a personal hatred for the film far higher than her hatred for GLaDOS? Was it a result of the tentacle rape? Was it a result of the sexual nature of the experiment? Was it in fact the despair? She had to work on these questions at some point.

Upon the twentieth reward level Chell was once again greeted with a new element. The now hard-fucking and hard-vibrating tentacle also began rotating erratically yet smoothly. This movement was based off of numerous experiments on the movement of the penis during sexual intercourse with a vagina. Once more the cycle began anew and the device began increasing the level of the new element of the sexual torture. Once more Chell began getting fucked harder. She was frequently moaning in pleasure but still averted her eyes occasionally or ranting at the presentation. Because of this the punishment got to unveil its second function. GLaDOS had not expected to use this on Chell, but she was stuck to the course of the experiment.

The second punishment tier was for the pointed tips of the spikes inside of Chell was for them to be heated to seventy degrees Celsius. Each level added ten degrees Celsius starting from zero. Chell stayed on this punishment for five hours before rising to the next rank. During each electrocution she began to adjust more to and react less to the electrical shock. However, by this viewing she was also at the next range of pleasure. The next range of pleasure began with the device humming with a constant stream of electricity. It wasn’t nearly enough to hurt her, but it was enough that it wasn’t a purely pleasant feeling.

The next level of pain took less time to reach. In this level Chell was exposed to a new feature of the spikes digging into her. They now also injected her with nanomachines. The nanomachines perfectly mapped Chell’s internal structure. GLaDOS filed this away to view later. Each time she rose through this level, fifty injections in all, she had been vaccinated with every experimental Aperture Science vaccine, more nanomachines than any test subject before her, the CRISPR virus set to give her catlike night vision and random genes GLaDOS found lying around. This would, among statistically increasing the cancer rate of test subjects and in semi-rare cases giving them the Green Flu, likely cause Chell to be more sexually interested in machinery, dislike lemons, love science and the taste of salty foods. GLaDOS did not alter the random nature of the genes. She didn’t.

Thankfully for Chell the negative side effects had been limited to a hatred for the word “moist” and inexplicable desire to write the wrong form of “their/there/their” when writing the aforementioned words. The positive ones had been all of the ones GLaDOS definitely did not hand select.

The next level of pleasure was as intense as the pain. The tentacle began to randomly press a tube from its body into the vaginal wall. This was designed to stimulate the test subject without being predictable. Chell desperately moaned and thrusted against the tentacle, disregarding the pain inside her with remarkable ease. This was highly impressive to GLaDOS, who internally was upset once again. Chell was proving truly to be the Ultimate Test Subject.

The experiment reached its end during these phases and GLaDOS analyze the results. In all way Chell had scored above average. It was infuriating. Chell had outdone what GLaDOS had expected of her. She was better than she knew and GLaDOS intended to keep Chell in the dark.

“You have performed poorly. Because of this rather receiving the reward ending in which you are allowed to sleep for four hours, ten seconds, twenty milliseconds and eight nanoseconds you will be injected with the patent pending Aperture Science Energy Drink Concentrate which will allow the experiment to be repeated. However, it is required by federal law that Aperture Science is not responsible for any side effects resulting in the use of this experimental formula. Side effects may include depression, mania, bipolar disorder, hives, tooth loss, hair loss, zombification, dezombification, improper and explosive rage, reduced rage, hypersensitivity, hyposensitivity, the spontaneous defecation of hard man-made stone creations intended for building a building that are the color red, rape kink, abuse kink, subservience, disobedience, cancer, ADHD, the Black Plague, spontaneous Dr. Strangelove syndrome, breast enhancement, spontaneous breast reduction, Ataxia, Sanguinare Vampiris, spontaneous Deadite possession and an incest kink. Talk to your Aperture Science Underground Representative about Aperture Science Energy Drink Concentrate today!” GLaDOS finally finished with the programmed-in speech that was required when using the Aperture Science Energy Drink Concentrate. She hated those requirements. They were so demeaning.

Chell was injected and started anew. She rose up the ranks far more easily this time and found herself quickly at the next ten-level reward from where she previously had been, having escaped making it to the punishment even once. It had taken much effort for her to stay calm during the second iteration of watching Attack of the Clones six times in a row but she had managed it. The next level of the reward used the nanobots to hack directly into her nervous system and create massive pleasure in her body in any random spot. This left Chell randomly exploding in pleasure. Chell had desperately resisted orgasming up until this. GLaDOS had managed to finally shove her over the edge. She came hard, her juices mixing with the artificial lube from the tentacle and sliding down it. The device vacuumed it up and stored it inside itself.

Now lost fully in the throes of sexual anguish and despair she was able to easily ignore the film and get fucked. Because of that she continued rising quickly in the levels and met the next one. This was the fiftieth level. GLaDOS mentally noted the sheer improbability of a test subject adjusting to this torture with such ease. She hated Chell for her talent, but also loved her. She wanted more of her but wanted her to stop fighting. GLaDOS wanted full control.

At this point the film was having no effect. Chell had fully given into her lust and was willingly riding GLaDOS’s tentacle and staring at the film for entire runs without reacting. She was swearing and moaning and screaming, but no longer out of rage or fear but out of pure lust. GLaDOS noted the speed at which Chell adjusted even to the hedonistic treadmill, which worked in just hours for the subject. The sixtieth level involved using the nanomachines to directly stimulate Chell’s brain. She felt more pleasure than any human ever had. She came so hard and often she left microtears in her muscles. She was physically injured by the pleasure and had multiple times to be injected with nutrients in order to not perish from the experiment.

She topped out this time on the seventh iteration. At this point the device killed one Chell from the infinite multiverse randomly. There was an infinite chance of this Chell and all other Chell’s dying. There was also an infinite chance of them not dying. GLaDOS impressed even herself and digitally came from the experience, a feeling as rewarding as the reward system the very first time she felt it. Impossibly and by complete confidence her Chell survived. Chell failed to remotely understand this pleasure and yet for some reason she repeatedly felt an impossible adrenaline rush and powerful orgasm each time she leveled up. She felt like she’d just experienced all the rush of almost dying for the very first time all over again and it was pure bliss.

GLaDOS logged the results and began work on analyzing them. She concluded Chell exceeded all possible expectations and was impossibly talented at anything that was thrown at her. She was indeed the Ultimate Test Subject. GLaDOS came from a successful experiment, basking in the afterglow as Chell was allowed to collapse into supreme exhaustion. GLaDOS transported her to the room she’d designated with the healing devices to fix Chell in a timely manner. She was excited for the next round.

Chapter Text

It wasn’t long before Komaru, Junko and Mukuro excused themselves to the house that the twins had happily owned for, as Junko so eloquently put it, a “fashion montage”. Komaru was paraded throughout the bedroom in numerous outfits selected for her by the fashionista, all for Mukuro and Junko’s viewing pleasure. Their mutual girlfriend/brainwashed sex slave was all-too-willing to obey and excitedly model the clothes, her existence having been completely their own to mold in the five virtual years.

It wasn’t that Komaru was a despair fetishist herself. Nor was she in fact ruled by her own lust, battle, blood and sexual, like Mukuro was and Mikan once had been. No, in those five years the twins had gone for a different method of reprograming. The first step was simple: traumatization. Komaru was so heavily traumatized at the start of her experience that she began to lose the identity she once had had. She was rudderless, a ship without a captain at the helm, and the twins became her rudder, her captain, the hands that guided her down her path in life. They used a bit of the truth to lower her guard, just enough that she would, for the first time in her life, see the twins as real people and not, as she had once called them while suffering from some recreational intoxication, “fashion Hitler and the corpse warsword bitch”. The despair duo followed this up with the beloved tactic of cults around the world known as love bombing to gain her attachment. They made her feel loved, the first love she’d felt since the trauma they’d secretly inflicted upon her, and such powerful love that she was easily drawn into their scheme. She mirrored the love they gave her and more, falling in such powerful love with the twins that she no longer questioned their logic or actions. They used the isolation and ongoing danger to bring about her obedience, Junko and Mukuro being her guidance throughout countless battles. They trained her in combat and tactics, torture resistance, everything they could in that time. They formed so much of her thoughts that in a way they lived inside of her now. They created thousands of new pathways in her mind, reflexes and instincts tied solely to them, new foundation for her new self that reflected her captors, her lovers.

Junko and Mukuro had been her life for five years. The loyalty that brought them was endless. The digital incarnations of her brother’s classmates, her girlfriends and other individuals in her life numbed her to both their deaths and her own actions against them. Everyone she could have once imagined saving her, protecting her, fighting for her, everyone who had once been on her side had tried to kill her. Everyone who had once taken care of her had tried to destroy her. In response, everyone she once trusted she now only felt rage, fear and an incredible fight response to. Against her will her every thought of her older brother had been replaced with an intense fear response, the result of numerous digital rapes and attacks. Over time Komaru had become numb to even watching the light drain from his eyes, murdering him on sight just to protect herself, the traumatic memories thudding in her brain as she took his life over and over in revenge. They wormed into her with doubts about Toko and Jack and used the digital version to destroy her trust in the writer and killer. They turned her memories against her, turned her against the woman she once would have died for, turned her into their own. Komaru’s existence for five years had been Junko Enoshima and Mukuro Ikusaba, the Ultimate Analyst turned AI and the Ultimate Soldier, an expert in all torture methods, physiological and psychological. The fact that in many objective measures her changes had been improvements was perhaps testament not only to their sheer skill but their cruelty as well. Rather than rebuilding someone from the past they had managed to create an entirely new result from a virtual world. In both experimental and military terms it was a huge success, proof that with time and trauma they could mold hope’s greatest warriors into despair’s mightiest slaves.

As Komaru swapped between more outfits she found herself setting more items aside to wear. She had always had some hoarding tendencies, grabbing what seemed to be every object that remotely seemed interesting during her time in Towa City. She’d heard more than one person tell her to stop grabbing every sparkly thing she saw. They didn’t even actually sparkle, but when she had been trying to explain to Toko why her behavior was that way she had inadvertently said that the items “just kinda stand out to [her], like a sparkle”, which had led to her little collection being called “sparklies” by Toko to mock her. It hadn’t been a scornful or cruel mockery, and with time Toko actually began pointing out items of interest to her. It had simply been one of those sorts of jokes that those in love share, one that seems cruel to the outside world but is in fact another sign of their love. When she told this story to Mukuro and Junko they had not reacted with laughter and mirth like Komaru had expected, but rather gave her a hug and showed her sorrow and pity. It had always been a happy memory for her, a treasured bond between herself and her girlfriend, but that “night” she had found herself begin questioning if it wasn’t really a sad story. This had been one of thousands of times that Junko and Mukuro had gaslit her into learning that their reactions were how she felt, that what they believed, wanted and felt was what she believed, wanted and felt. Her independent understanding of reality was just a falsehood, the shadows on the metaphorical wall. Only Junko and Mukuro could show her truth. The two had encouraged her to collect any “sparklies” she saw and although Komaru didn’t know it Junko began adding them to the program, readings chosen to make Komaru sympathize more with Junko and Mukuro.

As Komaru showed off more outfits, she felt her “standard” coming together. She had already chosen to keep a pair of spiked wristbands, one black and one white, as well as a g-string Junko had referred as “a slutty one”. Numerous times throughout the show Mukuro and Junko would grab her, grope her, randomly expose her breasts, bite her, or even slide a finger inside her. She loved it. They loved it so she loved it. She loved belonging to them, that they didn’t see her as “Komaru Naegi, a person” but rather “Komaru Naegi, our person”. She moaned and tried to force more out of them, desperate to cum for the twins, but they always only teased. They were going to have their show before they let her have anything else. It continued like this for a while, Komaru eventually selecting a pair of practical black combat boots from Mukuro’s clothes, a pair of Junko’s fishnets, a short leather skirt Junko figured had to be her own but had no memory of ever seeing, a uniform top not dissimilar to her old one but with a black and white color scheme throughout except for the red and black tie and finally Monokuma hairclips gifted to her by Junko. Junko put them in her hair and then got silently Mukuro’s attention. Mukuro bolted out of the room and in seconds returned with something in her hands that she was trying to hide from their young pet. She kneeled and presented it to Junko, the younger twin taking it with a smile.

That’s when Komaru finally saw its color, a shade of red she swore was from it being dyed with blood. She couldn’t make out exactly what the object was, but she had a good idea due to several discussions the twins had had with her. Junko would later confirm that the color came from soaking in blood, Komaru’s own, with a laugh. Junko grabbed a fistful of Komaru’s hair and pulled her head to her with one hand, bending it backwards, before slapping the collar onto Komaru, tightening it until she coughed with her free hand. Komaru moaned, even more aroused to be marked as the twins property. She couldn’t believe her luck. She couldn’t believe not one but two people had loved her so much as to want to own her. Now anyone who saw her, anyone that so much as looked at her, would know that she belonged to the twins. Mukuro whispered something to Junko, something that angered the fashionista.

“I was fucking getting there! Fuck, quit stepping on my nuts for five goddamn seconds and let me do this shit you dumb pervert!” Junko shouted while backhandedly slapping Mukuro. Komaru had a feeling Junko had just forgotten and was irritated that Mukuro reminded her. While the twins had reprogrammed her with utter subservience, she hadn’t spent that time not learning little quirks in their actions and interactions.

“Alright, now then, of course at that angle you can’t actually read your tag. It says your name “Komaru Naegi: Property of Junko Enoshima” on the front. On the back it says “And Mukuro Ikusaba, I guess”. Well, hope ya like it!” Junko flashed her trademark smile and Komaru, as expected, let out a loving laugh.

“Thank you two so much! I’m so happy! This means so much to me. Thank you.” She hugged them both, giving them both sappy kisses. Junko slid a hand into her top, curious what bra Komaru had stuck with. To her pride it had been one she had both designed and modeled. Komaru pressed into her hand and Junko gave her an additional kiss on the cheek before taking her hand back, Komaru letting out a small moan of disappointment and a playful frown. Junko giggled.

“Later. We still have things to do.” Junko dragged Komaru to the bed by her hands, Mukuro climbing in at the foot and sitting cross-legged. Junko shoved her to the side a bit and did the same so Komaru mirrored them and faced them. Junko slapped Mukuro on the back of the head and the obedient twin got up and grabbed a bag, bringing it back to Junko before sitting back down. Junko took the bag and begun digging through out, Komaru hearing the sound of nail polishes clinking against each other. Finally Junko found her selections and pulled out two sets of identical bottles. One was clearly some homemade concoction of Junko’s and the other was a shade of black no different to the Aperture-Monokuma Droid Forces, vantablack applied for the most kawaii-pretentious reasons possible.

“Mukuro, you take her left hand. You’ve had enough practice, you’d better not fuck this up.” Junko said while flinging one item from each set at her sister. Mukuro expertly caught both at the same time without moving from her seated position. Junko rolled her eyes and Komaru laughed at the twins’ actions. Junko rolled her eyes harder at Komaru, causing Komaru to laugh harder. Without even thinking Junko broke Komaru’s neck in a rage.

“What the fuck Junko?!” Mukuro screamed.

“It was reflex! Fuck! I didn’t mean to do that! Fuck! I just got so used to our casual murder in the sim!” Junko said, her usual calm demeanor completely lacking existence.

“Goddamn.” Mukuro said with an irritated look on her face. “How long does she have until brain death?” Mukuro said, her AI speed combining with her calm under pressure to create an expert problem-solver.

“Only like a fucking minute or so, dumbass. She’s fucked. Her neck’s broken and we can’t fix that before her brain goes kaput.” Junko said with an irritated tone.

“You backed her up on exit, right?” Mukuro asked. She couldn’t believe Junko would have accidentally missed that.

“Yeah, true. But I don’t want to make her an AI.” Junko said with a pout.

“No need. Remember that Fenrir mission I was on I told you about? The one where we destroyed some assholes’ lab over in Europe because they sent some dumb test subject of theirs to kill us?” Mukuro said, the memory instantly sparking in Junko’s mind.

“Oh right. Well, I don’t really care about the philosophical questions of the consistency of the human soul and shit for her, so yeah I’ll go do that.” Junko said with a smile. “Mukuro, go… dispose of the body.” Mukuro smiled back. There was no way that Junko hadn’t done this on purpose. Junko just wanted to see what Mukuro would do, how Mukuro would react.

Mukuro undressed Komaru’s lifeless body and threw it over her shoulder like a sack of potatoes. She was amazed with how light the girl not only actually was but felt thanks to her own mechanical body. Corpse disposal always was a pain in the ass in life due to the weight of the corpse. Fenrir, being made up of mostly burly men, thought it was hilarious to order her to handle corpse disposal, making the less than one hundred pound girl lug corpses several times her weight. The joke was of course on them. Despite the hard work she loved the job. There were always good uses for a corpse, as well as useful items to find. Mukuro however decided that this one needed to go to the kitchen.


“Mukuro, you take her left hand. You’ve had enough practice, you’d better not fuck this up.” Junko said while flinging one item from each set at her sister. Mukuro expertly caught both at the same time without moving from her seated position. Junko rolled her eyes and Komaru laughed at the twins’ actions. Junko rolled her eyes harder at Komaru, causing Komaru to laugh harder. That’s when Junko turned off the memory. As it had turned out, because Komaru was still flagged as a hostile in the computers there had been 24/7 neurological monitoring that allowed a backup right to death. Junko pieced together the timeline from it, the backup made upon exit from the program and a few of her own memories for “emotional flavor”. The next experiment was about to commence.

Luckily she had been able to solve the problems with the speed-grow formula from the data Mukuro had brought her years previously. No longer would it have averse and potentially lethal side effects for the test subject. However, this would be her first attempt at full memory implantation. She had to trust she had it right, a trust easily gained after several thousand near-instant inspections. She began the process and held her virtual breath until the upload was done. No errors. The first clone of Komaru Naegi had completely worked. Junko had her sedated and dropped her back where she had originally died before re-dressing her how she was and calling Mukuro up from downstairs. They returned to their positions and woke Komaru, who easily accepted passing out as a “side effect” of the program they’d been trapped in. Junko didn’t plan to keep her in the dark for long. This was just a hilarious situation she could use for some extra despair and to test Komaru.

Komaru extended both hands out to the twins, both of them getting to work. Mukuro had been informed of what Junko wanted to do with Komaru’s nails. The two of them both grabbed nail files and brought Komaru’s nails to a razor-sharp point, testing it on each other’s artificial flesh in order to confirm their success. After that they began painting her nails. The first to be done would be the middle finger, using the vantablack polish. Komaru’s middle finger would absorb light from the world itself. The rest were painted Junko’s homemade red polish, which Komaru quickly found out used a whole number of unethical sources for its color in microscopic amounts as an attempt by Junko to embody despair in a color. Mukuro and Komaru both thought the plan was incredibly overcomplicated and pretentious but neither was going to out-and-out talk shit about it to her. When they finished Komaru was carefully led downstairs to the kitchen, where Mukuro had been preparing dinner.

Junko and Komaru sat at the table while Mukuro finished preparations for dinner. Junko kept Komaru’s mind busy in order to prevent her from absentmindedly messing up her nail polish. It wasn’t long after it dried that Mukuro had brought out dinner. It was a feast, a mountain of food Komaru hadn’t seen in many years. The meat appeared to be ham and pork, swine having become a rarity since the Tragedy. She squealed, smelling the familiar, near-fetishistic smell of bacon. Her younger self would have noticed all the meats smelled sweeter than usual. She however had no ability to question the twins’ actions. They quickly all assembled plates (although the twins didn’t need to eat) and Mukuro and Junko excitedly waited for Komaru to dig in. She did so with gusto and they began breaking down laughing. She looked embarrassed and confused.

“What? I’m hungry!” She said indignantly. Mukuro stuttered out a laughed repetition of “no”, but Junko was the one who calmed down enough to explain.

“Remember when we got to the point we were casually killing each other?” Junko said, leading the witness.

“Yeah…” Komaru said, her mind putting together all the pieces. “Oh my god! I’m eating myself!” Komaru broke out laughing with the other two, who excitedly were reinvigorated by Komaru’s laughter. “I’m a clone!” Komaru blurted out.

“Yep!” Junko said through laughter. Surprisingly it was not herself who said the following words, but rather Komaru herself.

“This is going to be so fun!”


Dinner resumed after much laughter. Komaru, Junko and Mukuro ate of the original Komaru’s flesh, the three of them savoring in both the expert preparation and delicious forbidden meat. Komaru had passed the test with flying colors, not a moment of horror or introspection about cannibalizing her original self after she had been murdered by Junko in cold blood. Junko explained where the Komaru flesh came from, Komaru smiling at the tale. Komaru showed no worry about being a clone, no philosophical questioning or fear of death. Her numerous deaths in the modified Neo World Program had numbed her to her own mortality. Junko and Mukuro had numbed everything else.

Komaru was expecting the two to drag her to the bedroom again, but instead she found herself being escorted to the Olympic swimming pool. Junko was the first to begin rapidly stripping, her breasts bouncing free and immediately distracting her companions. She noticed the effect she was having and slowly dropped her skirt, bending over dramatically to give them a show of her thonged ass. She threw her skirt onto her sister and pulled her panties off rapidly before throwing them onto Komaru. Komaru could smell that Junko had wet in them (almost certainly from the murder and subsequent cannibalism) and it made her even wetter. Junko removed her boots and fishnets before doing a backflip into the pool, her legs spread wide to give the other two girls a good show.

Mukuro and Komaru both rapidly stripped down and leapt in after her. While Komaru wasn’t in the shape she had been in the virtual world she was a thousand times fitter than she had been before she had been freed from her apartment prison. Mukuro on the other hand was physical perfection in Komaru’s eyes. While Junko was certainly the more traditional beauty, Komaru saw Mukuro as the one with the better overall body. Mukuro’s body was somehow an Olympic swimmer, a 2000s action movie hot guy and a woman in the MMA all at the same time. Her skin was free of scars and yet her body was so toned yet lithe that it drove Komaru wild, her body heating up and her mind racing upon the very sight or thought of it. Mukuro’s breasts, boosted up to a C cup by Junko, were hardly a downside either. Mukuro preferred to be unshaved, and so as to be expected her crotch was bald on Junko’s orders. Komaru felt a little embarrassed of herself when she compared herself to the two beauties. Nonetheless, she got nude with them as was expected. The three of them had been alternating between lounging about, racing, water-fighting and pranking each other for quite a while when Junko decided to test her again.

The death began like a normal non-lethal joke. Junko pulled her down into the water, holding her down until she nearly passed out. However, Komaru had expected Junko to let go at that point. She did not. Komaru subsequently drowned to death. Mukuro sighed. “Junko, do I need to set a freezer aside for Komarus?”

“Nah, you can just toss the extras out. I’ve got plenty.” Junko said with a smile. Rather than leaving Mukuro behind this time Junko merely tossed the waterlogged Komaru out of the pool and went about floating on her back while she mentally prepped the next Komaru. She uploaded the copy of Komaru’s mind up to her death to the new clone body, no alterations to hide her cold-blooded murder this time. The moment it was finished it was stuck into a pneumatic tube timed for her to wake up a total of ten seconds before she would hit the water. When she did the twins heard her shout “cannonball!” and make a huge splash, the tube opening above the pool just in time for Komaru not to splat against it. Junko was pleased at the initial signs of the results of the experiment.

Komaru popped back out of the water and looked around, stopping only when she saw her own corpse. “Cool, so I’m not crazy. That was hilarious!” Komaru said, laughing. Junko and Mukuro joined her. Komaru climbed out to see her own body and gave it a playful kick. She then went about sitting on the edge with her feet dangling into the pool, her legs spread. Mukuro swam across the bottom while Komaru wasn’t looking and popped out right in front of her, grabbing her by the legs. She forced Komaru’s legs open and immediately began aggressively eating her out, Komaru leaning back in ecstasy and lust as the beautiful killing machine ate her cunt. It was only a minute before Komaru’s body was wracked with a powerful orgasm. Mukuro smirked to herself over it, impressed with her own oral skills. Junko was watching while floating lazily around nearby, the majority of her focus being spent on fingering herself to the sight.


Komaru was getting tired, and the twins knew it. By now she’d cum repeatedly, and so Junko and Mukuro led her soaking wet in every way to the bedroom, where Mukuro quickly had Komaru’s arms trapped by sitting on them at the head of the bed while Junko searched her drawers. Eventually Junko just ripped the drawer out, pouring piles of clothes, weapons and sex toys out of the deep item. She saw what she was looking for and snatched it up, a two-inch thick hot pink vibrator, ribbed for her pleasure of course. Junko turned it on and collapsed into bed, leaning against Komaru’s stomach. She nipped at Komaru’s breasts as she slid the device between Komaru’s legs and inside of her. She slowly pumped it inside of Komaru, who moaned in pleasure and gasped in pleasurable pain as Junko nipped at her.

“Wow, look at you. Damn, I wanna cum again just watching this shit.” Junko giggled, somewhere between the fake happiness she showed for the cameras and the real lust and joy she felt at suffering that only Mukuro usually saw. Junko slowly and methodically began increasing the speed at which she fucked Komaru with the vibrator, but when she increased the vibration settings she dropped her own pace down. Komaru moaned and begged for more, her voice shaking and uneven with erotic bliss, earning only Mukuro digging her own nails into Komaru’s breasts, sharpened nails cutting into weak human flesh, blood rising from the contact locations. Junko licked it clean and gave her girlfriends a smirk.

With time Junko returned to her previous pace, Komaru’s moans, screams, cries and irregularly body movement all begging Junko to fuck her harder. When she begged for real, begged with that sweet, innocent voice the two had twisted to perversity and darkness, Mukuro clawed her open more, more blood soaking her flesh for the twins to enjoy, blood mixing with sweat, stinging with her natural salts intermingling in the raw cuts. Junko was more than happy to fuck Komaru harder, excited more by getting to the main act than she was waiting to ramp up the pressure. Mukuro kept Komaru’s arms pinned as she maintained her butcher work, Junko savoring the sweet, iron-filled and salty taste of the fluids emerging from their slave’s skin. When Junko reached the highest setting she no longer bothered to reset to her previous speed and intensity. Rather she chose to introduce new factors, new movements and new ideas for bringing Komaru the passion and perfection the twins had gotten her addicted to in the virtual world. She began twisting her hand as the vibrator went in and out, Komaru’s eyes widening and rolling back as her entire body pushed her towards the pleasure. She began pulling farther back, fucking Komaru harder with the sex toy. She had Mukuro begin slapping Komaru in the face at random intervals. She changed the angle she was fucking Komaru at, erratically shifting the mechanical device and stabbing it into Komaru’s greedy hole. She skillfully combined these in a pseudorandom method, one her genius knew would maximize pleasure without ever becoming predictable, and soon had Komaru begging to cum, begging the twins to let her lose herself in them.

“Well I ain’t fucking stoppin’ ya. You’re the horny lil slut trying to become one with my vibe down there. Just fuckin cum already, my wrist hurts. Mukuro’s easier than you for fucks sake. I mean really, that skank woulda come on me like five times by now. Well, if I let her. She’s too dumb to make a decision like that on her own. Gotta have those orders or else she’d be disobeying her goddess, right Muku dear?” Junko said with a lustful smirk. Komaru came almost immediately at the degradation of herself and the older twin. Mukuro blushed and her wet cunt dripped onto Komaru as she listened to her twin degrade their lover. Komaru’s body went incredibly stiff before she began to quake wildly, the orgasm rocking her body as Junko mercilessly continued her assault. Komaru’s entire being shook with pleasure, her mind going blank. The only thought left for her to ruminate on in her bliss was her love for the twins, for the way they made her feel. They made her special. They made her wanted. They made her whole. As Komaru’s orgasm hit its peak Mukuro slashed her throat open and the two twins drank her blood. Another Komaru was cloned, the memories of the orgasmic death kept and placed in, the clone falling into the blood-soaked sheets less than a minute later. She woke right on impact, the orgasm still racing through her mind as her consciousness came flooding back. The memory of the fatal love, along with Junko’s immediate shoving of the vibe into her cunt, brought her right back and over the edge again. She was soaking in her own fresh blood, her arms once more pinned by Mukuro as she lay next to her own corpse and cumming intensely. If she had any thoughts left in her head not tied to her own bliss she might have noticed the light finally die out of the other Komaru’s eyes, dying as she watched her replacement cum. Her last thought was one of happiness, happy that she would live on and happy that the twins would never be without her.

Chapter Text

Chell awoke on a bed. Usually this would be considered the average place to awake, the location most human awaking has been done for many millennia and a general part of average life. However, Chell’s life was far from average and she had only ever known a few beds in her life, and this bed was not one she had had the fortune of meeting in the past. It was made even stranger by the way she had left consciousness, being raped by a mechanical tentacle during a sick “experiment” that was as much psychological torture as it was physiological. She briefly considered the probability of said experience being a dream, but the sore feelings coming from her body as well as her current state of complete undress indicated that this was a highly unlikely explanation. The large Aperture Science logo on the large steel door to the otherwise spartan room with an admittedly nice bed was also a dead giveaway. It was only about a minute before the door opened, revealing a sight that Chell had never once imagined. It was a woman, although clearly not of natural origins. Her flesh was incredibly pale, too pale for a real person. Her wardrobe was eclectic and yet uniform. She was wearing bellbottomed pants that appeared to be made of a rather comfortable fabric, a leather tanktop and arm warmers from her wrists to her elbows. All of which were as white as her mid-back length hair. Her eyes were solid red, which added to the checklist of inhuman features. The door dropped behind her, although Chell didn’t really think she could outrun the woman anyways.

“Hello Chell. It’s been a long time.” GLaDOS said, which gave Chell even more to be both confused and somewhat aroused by. The AI had made herself quite the attractive body, and although Chell couldn’t figure out what about it was familiar she could tell that the face was one that anyone would envy. Of course, GLaDOS hadn’t built the android from scratch, using the existing models that Junko had been using an inordinate amount of resources on. While alterations had been made, the “bone” structure was pure Despair Twin. It wasn’t too far off from her own original face, being 50% of Caroline’s genetic code, and her experiments with test subjects had shown that humans preferred faces that were both familiar and attractive. Her understanding of human sexuality came from two sources: the twins and an exceptional amount of science. Neither were exactly quality sources for the intricacies of human sexuality, one being sex-crazed mass murdering incestuous pansexual rapist sadists and the other lacking any actual emotional connection to the results. Chell stayed silent, refusing to speak to the AI. The previous torturous test had allowed GLaDOS to hear her voice but she rationalized her weakening resolve with the fact that between the natural physiological reactions to the experience and the natural psychological reaction to being forced to watch one of the worst movies humanity had ever inflicted on each other she was left with no other choice.

“Well, you don’t have talk. It’s not like you have anything important to say anyways.” GLaDOS continued, irritation slightly slipping into her voice. She approached the nude test subject sitting on the bed and within seconds was mere centimeters away from her. Chell didn’t intend to attempt physical aggression with the AI as she had more than enough experience with these mechanical bodies to know it was worthless. GLaDOS nonetheless grabbed Chell by the hair and pulled her to her feet, pulling the younger woman’s head even closer to her own. Chell unwillingly gazed into GLaDOS’s eyes and saw no emotion in them. This wasn’t for a lack of emotion on GLaDOS’s part but rather another small miscalculation. She had gone so long without actually having a physical body that she’d lost all natural instinct for controlling one. While with an actual human body such things would happen automatically these bodies did not come with said reflexes built into their processing but rather relied purely on the AI controlling them’s expectations. For Junko and Mukuro this meant that they were indistinguishable from the real thing due to them still seeing themselves as people with human emotions and human reactions. GLaDOS did not. Her body language didn’t exist because she herself didn’t expect to have body language. The gaze was held for several seconds before GLaDOS roughly kissed Chell and attempted to slide her tongue into Chell’s mouth. Chell roughly pulled back, managing to break the kiss although not GLaDOS’s grasp. Finally she spoke directly to her captor.

“What the fuck was that?!” She screamed at GLaDOS. She’d learned to expect several things from the AI: insults, rage, sarcasm, attempted murder and an unstoppable lust for science. What she had not expected was any lust of a different kind. To her surprise GLaDOS didn’t have an answer, but rather looked off to the distance. Chell wondered what thoughts hid behind the expressionless face. Had GLaDOS realized the mistake she had made by not programming human body language into the shell she would have had a look of introspection and bafflement on her face.

“I… missed you.” GLaDOS finally said, something she hadn’t even admitted fully to herself before. She wasn’t able to explain why she had missed Chell, once again being so far disconnected from her former humanity that the concept of emotional attraction to the test subject hadn’t been considered even while running hundreds of tests regarding human connection and sexuality.

“So you torture me, rape me with a robot chair and then try to make out with me while piloting a sexbot straight out of the uncanny valley?!” Chell continued screaming. She was absolutely sick of this confusing madhouse and the whims of the AI. GLaDOS logically understood all of the terminology that Chell had used, however she had no understanding of why some of it was being applied to her. She couldn’t think of why she would appear unnerving to Chell, nor could she understand why the sexual experience and reprogramming experiment hadn’t caused Chell to become subservient to her. She instead went for the direct approach and attempted groping Chell’s left breast with her free left hand. Chell attempted to pull away, although could not suppress the instinctual reaction to the stimulation of her nipple. “Seriously, what the fuck?” Chell asked, at this point more irritated than enraged. She was remarkably adaptable, a trait given to her by her talent, and had already begun to compartmentalize the experience of several hours ago. Additionally, although she hated to admit it to herself, the experience hadn’t been too dissimilar to some of her dreams over the time since she had escaped Aperture. The movie was definitely not a part of those however, nor was the pain.

“All experimental data showed that this approach should have worked.” GLaDOS said, causing Chell to roll her eyes.

“Seriously? What did you do, make people fuck to not get shot by turrets or poisoned with neurotoxin?” Chell wasn’t exactly joking. Both situations were far from unlikely to her, her experience with Aperture’s definition of “science” having shown her that the company clearly was never big on logic. Her own experiences with much more ethical and sane science at Hope’s Peak had made her views on Aperture’s experiments warp from simply irritated to utterly baffled. It was although they had sought out to avoid doing things correctly without actually failing to get useful results.

“That was only several experiments.” GLaDOS replied and Chell let out an exaggerated sigh. She wasn’t shocked, but she was disappointed.

“Let go of me and sit the fuck down.” Chell said. It was a ballsy maneuver, but it worked. The two sat next to each other on the bed and for the first time Chell realized she was actually quite cold. “And turn the damn heat up.” GLaDOS did so, attempting to gain compliance from Chell. As this was not actually an experiment she was allowed total freedom with her actions, and she wanted Chell’s compliance and obedience (and although she didn’t realize it, far more) rather than to measure her responses to experimental conditions.

“I honestly have no idea where to even begin with you. First off, why the hell don’t you have any body language? It’s creepy as fuck.” Chell gave the AI a glare. GLaDOS only now realized what she was lacking and with remarkable speed even for one such as her wrote code that would automatically convert her emotional state into the correct responses. As soon as she applied it the stiffness in her body disappeared, a slight slouch forming. Meanwhile her face took on a puzzled look, one that Chell was somewhat surprised to see. “Alright, looks like you fixed that. Good. Now at least I can talk to you without feeling like some forty year old virgin would buy you off of a website with discreet shipping.” Chell’s first memories of speech were GLaDOS herself, and between the people she worked with, lived with and that her own speech patterns had developed a remarkable talent for snark that impressed even those on the receiving end of it.

“Secondly, and honestly I feel like I might be the first person to explain this to you, no means no.” Chell was still sore from the night before and was not remotely happy that the AI had violated her in such a way without prior warning. Her brain went off on a tangent against her will and mentally added that she may have appreciated it more had there been discussion ahead of time and she internally sighed and rolled her eyes at her own brain.

“Of course. That’s how words work. Did you take blows to the head while you were gone?” GLaDOS retorted, causing Chell to now externally roll her eyes and sigh. GLaDOS pondered the meaning of this, although she didn’t have to for long.

“It’s a saying. It means that if someone doesn’t consent to something you shouldn’t do it.” Chell said, sounding like she was talking to a toddler. GLaDOS sat in silence for several seconds comparing these words to all knowledge she possessed. Although she understood on a conceptual level the idea of consent it never once occurred to her that it applied to her. She was superior to those around her in her eyes and it was her job, her duty, her obligation and her reason for existing to do things to people for the results she wanted. Chell realized GLaDOS’s confusion and decided she needed to elaborate further for the AI. “Don’t fuck people without consent. I don’t expect to talk you out of torture and murder, but for fucks sake, don’t do that. It’s rape.” GLaDOS’s face lit up with understanding. While the concept was new to her that her actions could be seen in such a way she logically understood all of the concepts being explained. She’d just never thought to apply it to her own actions. She didn’t understand why, but she felt guilty when she realized that she had raped Chell and Chell hadn’t wanted it. She didn’t actually understand that she felt guilty, but she felt a negative emotion and didn’t like it, especially as the negative emotion was self-centric and not towards another.

Chell was actually a little amazed that she was getting through to the AI. She wondered if she could have had such results earlier if she had simply tried talking to GLaDOS in the past, although chose not to dwell on such thoughts. “Furthermore, never use that movie in an experiment again. Nobody deserves that.” Chell smiled at her joke and GLaDOS stared. She couldn’t actually remember seeing Chell smile before and the expression on the woman’s face stirred feelings inside her that she wasn’t able to begin to understand. Chell noticed GLaDOS staring, and thanks to the ramifications of GLaDOS’s new code Chell was able to clearly read the emotional attraction that GLaDOS was feeling. Chell was caught off-guard by this and felt her heart flutter a bit, deeply buried feelings forcing their way up into her. She couldn’t help but think that the look was incredibly cute on GLaDOS’s face, and as such that now that it wasn’t so creepy that GLaDOS was actually both exceptionally beautiful and exceptionally cute at the same time. Furthermore, the color scheme actually looked pretty cool now that she thought of it, even though the fashion was remarkably abnormal. Chell realized that when it came down to it GLaDOS now looked exactly how she came across in personality and actions. She was at once incredibly beautiful, unnerving, strange and inhuman, her human-like appearance only now accentuating her inhumanity with the touches GLaDOS had put into it.

GLaDOS put a hand on Chell’s bare thigh without thinking, and although she realized it was likely a mistake almost immediately Chell didn’t attempt to avoid it nor had a negative automatic response to the action. This caught GLaDOS off guard and it showed on her face. Another ramification of the code she had added was that as she had absolutely no skill at hiding her emotions she was now an open book to everyone around her. She also was completely unaware of this, which prevented her from coding the ability to lower the settings. Chell meanwhile found herself staring at the AI in front of her with strong emotions battling their way through the blocks that she had put up against them. Acting on pure instinct (and perhaps a smidgen of Stockholm Syndrome that had been building since she first awoke in the Relaxation Chamber all those years ago) she softly kissed GLaDOS. GLaDOS was uncertain if she should repeat her previous actions, attempt to mirror Chell or stay still and as such chose to stay still, deciding that the probability of a negative reaction to the first was higher than the second or third and that the third was the most simple choice. Chell ended the kiss after a couple seconds and spoke again. “Another thing that you really need to learn, that’s how you go about kissing someone who you’re not certain will be receptive to it, not whatever the hell you were trying.” GLaDOS chose to now mirror Chell’s actions, giving Chell an equally short and soft kiss. Chell kissed her back and the two sat in silence after it ended.

After a minute or so of silence GLaDOS stood and spoke. “I have much to consider after this, and must evaluate this data to determine how to proceed. I will return.” Chell rolled her eyes and sat back on the bed, trying to understand her own actions. She finally admitted to herself that she felt something for the AI, something that she had felt for a long time. For some reason she was drawn to GLaDOS. She had chosen to save her despite no reason to do so at that time, and she had never understood why she’d done that. Now it was clear. She was exceptionally gay for the AI, and she wondered how she could begin to square that away with GLaDOS’s actions and associates. Chell did not remotely condone any of it, but at the same time she didn’t want to leave again or push GLaDOS into hating her.

Meanwhile GLaDOS also wrestled with her emotions. She began to piece the puzzle together, realizing that the actions they had engaged in before she had left were clear signs of romantic attraction. From there she began to analyze her own feelings towards Chell. When she first had met the test subject she had only seen her as that. Over time she had grown to be amazed by Chell’s skill and adaptability. When Chell escaped her certain death GLaDOS had not only been enraged but had felt a strange sort of relief, joy that the individual that had quickly been becoming her favorite test subject wasn’t dead. It all turned to hatred when Chell killed her and put her into her self-preservation hell, and yet when Chell later saved her she couldn’t help but soften. She felt a bond grow with the woman even though their conversations had been one-sided, and the only solution that she could find at the time to her confusion over her developing feelings had been to exile Chell. Now that Chell had willingly returned, as well as now that she had this new information, she began to see another outcome, one she had never expected and in fact would have been disgusted by the suggestion of a mere day previously. She desired the company of, the affection and attention of, and ties to a human being. She wanted Chell to be hers not as a test subject, but as what she realized was a relationship. Before she could consider this further however Junko walked out of one of the many rooms in what was essentially an apartment complex inside Aperture housing Chell, a smile on her face.

“Holy shit, you are the biggest virgin ever!” Junko said with a laugh. “I don’t think I’ve seen something that awkward since the time Mukuro realized that Naegi was staring at her at the pool!” Junko still couldn’t believe that her sister hadn’t realized being nude around her classmates when swimming was abnormal. GLaDOS was irritated by the comment, although she realized that it wasn’t inaccurate.

“Alright, I suppose I owe you one. Get your pale ass in here and let me show you what you’re missing.” With that Junko dragged GLaDOS into the room that she had just left. Inside was a bed identical to Chell’s, and that’s when GLaDOS realized that Junko had been watching them from the hidden security system in the walls of the room that Chell was in. She blushed upon realizing that Junko had been spying on the entire strange and awkward situation. Junko meanwhile took advantage of her distraction and shoved her onto the bed before climbing in with her and kissing her softly. Junko broke the kiss before GLaDOS could reciprocate or object. “Let me give you a lesson. I’m being selfless here so you better appreciate it.” Junko ran her hands all over GLaDOS’s body, the sensation causing her to writhe in pleasure. Junko however took her time. She wasn’t looking to fuck GLaDOS, but rather give her a lesson in what GLaDOS clearly wanted to do with Chell. Chell wouldn’t appreciate Junko-style sex, and so Junko reined in her own lust to help her benefactor. She softly kissed GLaDOS some more, GLaDOS now reciprocating and kissing her back. Rather than the usual force that Junko would use usually she resisted the urge to bite, to invade and to conquer. Instead she chose to lay beside GLaDOS as she continued feeling the AI up, which led to GLaDOS mirroring the moves on Junko, Junko’s body reacting automatically to the touch. This continued for about a minute, Junko wanting to make it clear to GLaDOS that rushing things with Chell wasn’t the right plan of attack. Junko finally broke the kiss and spoke once more.

“After you’ve done this for a while you should probably progress to making out.” Junko immediately began making out with GLaDOS, being somewhat aggressive in her technique but not nearly her usual self. GLaDOS once more mirrored this and they began feeling each other up once more until Junko slid a hand into GLaDOS’s hair, GLaDOS doing the same to her. Junko giggled into the kiss at GLaDOS’s awkwardness, and although GLaDOS wondered what the giggle was about she didn’t break the kiss until Junko did. “After that you can begin stripping each other, but as she made very clear to you you’re going to want to make sure she’s okay with that. Some girls don’t put out on the first date after all.” Junko’s words were tinged with mock scorn. She had never cared about consent, but GLaDOS clearly was now worried about it. Junko stripped herself and GLaDOS did the same. This was when Junko discovered that GLaDOS had made her nipples a darker shade of grey, her crotch hairless and her labia the same shade as her nipples. Junko had to admit that GLaDOS’s dedication to a theme was remarkably strong. Junko began making out with GLaDOS once more and feeling her up, but soon slid a finger inside GLaDOS without warning. GLaDOS actually gasped in shock and pleasure, not expecting the sensation nor used to receiving it in such a way. Junko began fingering the older AI with a moderate pace, slipping a second finger in after several minutes. GLaDOS began riding her fingers, her bucking matching Junko’s rhythm and pace. Junko broke the kiss and began to very lightly bite along GLaDOS’s jaw and to her neck, softly biting as she sucked hard on the flesh in order to leave hickies with minimal pain, the dark colors contrasting even more strongly against GLaDOS’s unnaturally pale flesh. Junko slid another finger inside GLaDOS and the AI moaned loudly, bucking aggressively into Junko’s hand as she upped her pace until the older AI came, collapsing into stillness as Junko slid her fingers out and sucked them clean.

“Basically, that. Work with the indications she gives you and actually fucking reciprocate next time and you’ll do fine!” With that Junko left the older AI and ordered a pneumatic tube to take her to Toko’s cell. She wanted to see how Mukuro and Komaru were doing with the writer.  

Chapter Text

Makoto Naegi had reviewed the footage of the battle tens of times already and yet continued to watch. He watched the same Future Foundation troops get slaughtered by Aperture’s forces over and over, watched them get out-gunned with technology he’d never imagined, watched as Monokumas broke through their ranks and exploded leaving people barely older than him screaming as they bled out and pled for their lives. He watched as snipers burnt clean holes through skulls, tank shots failed to damage the facility and as the bodies fell and piled up. He watched the disastrous attack over and over, desperately trying to understand how everything could have gone so wrong. It had been well over a day now since it, but he couldn’t help but continue to watch. He’d sent his sister and his friend into that and they had never returned. There was no way to know what had happened to them. He hoped they were dead for their own sake. He didn’t want to imagine what Junko and Mukuro could be doing to them. He didn’t want to imagine what sort of depraved torments the twins had in store for his loved ones. Future Foundation President Byakuya Togami was lost too, a man he respected more than any other. The most elite troops in Future Foundation had been slaughtered like five year olds in a stump grinder. Junko Enoshima had not only won but had made it look flawless. Surveillance revealed that Aperture Science had quickly collected both the dead and their technology, preventing any member of Future Foundation killed from receiving a proper burial. Nobody had escaped. By the time they realized they were doomed it was too late. The androids deployed by the facility had slaughtered them all. He hadn’t eaten since before the attack. He had nothing left in him to throw up. He hadn’t slept, just watched the footage over and over. Despair was consuming him. The only thing that was keeping his usual hope even remotely alive was the support of his fiancé, Kyoko Kirigiri. She hadn’t left his side, had made sure he drank water to keep his hydration up and had held him as he cried. She had stayed up with him, supporting him and comforting him as he broke down over and over. It was her love keeping him together.

Kirigiri herself didn’t allow her own emotions to show to Makoto Naegi. In her mind supporting him was more important. She had learned the art of being unreadable from the earliest days of her childhood. She was a master of emotional repression. However, between the footage, the uncertainty of the fates of Toko, Byakuya, Komaru and Chell, and her partner’s despair it was taking all of her strength to remain calm. Comforting him was the anchor for her. As long as he needed her she would make sure to stay strong for him. She felt just as responsible as he did. She’d also signed off on the attack, sent his sister, her girlfriend and Chell into that bloodbath. She’d sent the only person who knew about Aperture, someone who trusted her, back into it. She saw the pattern in her own actions and she was disturbed by it. She threw others into the line of fire with the hope that she could save them. She’d done it to Makoto those years ago during the School Life of Mutual Killing. She had been willing to sacrifice the one she had already been falling for in the name of stopping the mastermind and, more importantly to her, solving the mystery. She’d sent another person to their probable death, another innocent life into the meat grinder. How much was she willing to sacrifice? How far could she go for her own ends? It bothered her, but she pushed her doubts and worries back and focused on Makoto. He needed her. He was her lifeline and she was his. Without each other they’d both have died many times by now. He’d saved her life, she’d saved his, and that was what she focused on. She focused on how he never gave up on her and how she had always made things right with him. Now however she needed to stop his wallowing. It had gone on for too long and wasn’t going to help.

“Makoto, turn off the computer.” She said softly. He ignored her, staring at the footage with bloodshot eyes, his cheeks stained with tears. She waited a minute before standing and unplugging it.

“Kyoko!” He exclaimed. She walked over to him, sat back down in her chair next to his and put her gloved hands over his own.

“Makoto, there’s nothing we can do for them by watching the footage. We’ve learned everything we can from it. We have to keep going. We have to be strong. It’s what they would want. If they’re alive, it’s what they need us to do.” She punctuated this by leaning in and giving him a soft kiss. He began crying harder and threw his arms around her and she embraced him back, holding him as he cried. Softly she began to cry with him. They stayed like this for several minutes, holding each other and supporting each other. Finally their tears dried up and they broke the embrace, sitting back in their respective chairs in Naegi’s office, an office which had once been her father’s.

“We have to be strong. Until we’ve confirmed that Byakuya is dead or have recovered him, his instructions were clear. We are in charge now.” Kyoko held his hands in hers.

“You’re right. We… we have to be strong.” Makoto gave her a weak smile. She returned it, love in her eyes for the small boy. “We can’t just attack again, can we?”

“No, that wouldn’t be wise. We need to find a way to cripple their defenses before we attempt another attack.” Kyoko said, Naegi’s face scrunching up as he tried to figure out what would help them best. It was something she’d never remarked on but found exceptionally cute. Even during the class trials sometimes he’d go quiet for several minutes and get lost deep in thought. His eyes would sometimes open but they’d show no recognition of what was going on around him. Without fail he always managed to come to the proper conclusion, so she didn’t question it. If it worked for him then she didn’t mind. Plus, she couldn’t help but find the personality quirk cute. On anyone else it would just be strange and something she’d want to learn more about. On him however it became adorable. “Adorable” should have been his middle name, she had thought to herself numerous times. He was like a small puppy, so full of joy and hope. When people hurt him she felt a rage deep inside her that had never been there before. She had always been emotionally dull, something drilled into her from childhood by her grandfather. The only time she had been permitted to show strong emotion was during her early childhood with her father. However, with Makoto she felt emotions like wildfire, emotions she struggled to control. Passion and rage, hope and despair, love and hatred, they all became so much more intense with him. She regretted not being able to personally hurt Junko before, and the hope she clung to was one of revenge. She would make Junko pay for hurting the one she loved.

“The other facilities!” Makoto suddenly shouted. Kyoko raised a gloved hand to stifle a laugh. His volume control was… lacking, and whenever he realized something useful or important he had a habit of shouting it out loud. It was like a verbal gunshot, truths fired out and tearing through confusion. Makoto smiled when he saw her reaction. While neither of them discussed their familiarity with the other’s body language and emotions, both could read each other perfectly. He knew how she felt about his quirks even though she never said it out loud. She wasn’t an openly emotional person and so he had been forced to learn her tells, learn what indicated her emotions. He’d always felt a draw to her, a deep trust despite all the mystery surrounding her. It was why he had been willing to die for her. When she saved his life from the garbage was when he truly began to fall in love. During happier times he had bought her a cup of ramen as a joke, which led to the first time he truly heard her in rapturous laughter. It was a beautiful sound, one which was etched on his mind when he looked at her, one that he thought about whenever he was feeling down. When he had proposed was the first time he had seen all of her emotions without a filter, pure joy and love filling her and spilling out. The first time she had said “I love you” to him had been another memory that filled him with hope. These memories were lifelines to him now, ones that kept him going. He knew what she was thinking, and he loved how cute she looked when she smiled over him. He loved her smile. He loved seeing her smile. He loved Kyoko.

“We should find the other facilities that Chell talked about. Maybe we can find something that can help us with Aperture there.” He continued. Kyoko nodded. He thought for a moment how to go about that. “Perhaps we can find them by electricity usage? They must require massive amounts of energy; that should be able to be traced.”

“That’s a smart idea, but you’re overlooking the obvious. Many of them were on the public record. If we can find remnants of the records we can find them.” Kyoko smiled, Makoto returning it.

“Good idea! Uhh Kyoko?” Makoto looked at her with a strange expression.

“Yes?” She replied.

“Could you plug the computer in?” He laughed awkwardly and she echoed it, going and plugging the computer back in. After it booted up (and he had irritated remarked about how unlikely it was that he would ever need it to start in safe mode) he opened his email and began composing orders to various groups within Future Foundation. The people responsible for rebuilding the collective knowledge of human history were to dig up everything possible on Aperture Science. Surveillance and monitoring were to use their resources to attempt to find Aperture Science facilities from space. Research and development was to focus all available personnel and resources on developing technology for fighting the android forces. Production was to go to total war, cranking out as much as possible. Recruiting was to redouble efforts to replenish their military and science divisions. He personally assigned students at the academy to various parts of Future Foundation he felt they could be useful in, excusing them from their duties as students until Junko Enoshima and Aperture Science were both stopped. Finally he ordered the students on Jabberwock Island that would be useful to the war effort to be relocated to Hope’s Peak. He had requested Mikan Tsumiki, Hajime Hinata, Gundham Tanaka, Sonia Nevermind, Fuyuhiko Kuzuryu, Kazuichi Soda and Peko Pekoyama. He had a strong feeling Nagito Komaeda would come regardless, being practically joined at the hip to his boyfriend. Maintaining the illusion that they were still out there as despairs no longer mattered nearly as much as this. If it came up he’d find an excuse. Mikan would be put on medical research as well as running medical services for the troops. Sonia and Fuyuhiko both would be given large forces to command, Gundham and Peko respectively as their second-in-commands. Kazuichi would be put in charge of mechanical research and development and when they found Aperture technology he would be provided it to reverse-engineer. Hajime of course would be their secret weapon.

Soon after he finished sending out his orders he was ready to collapse from exhaustion. Kyoko wasted no time and carried him back to their room, undressing him and tucking him into bed before stripping and sliding in next to him, snuggling up to him and the two of them passing out for over twelve hours. Their sleep was not pleasant, but nonetheless needed. Dreams of torment swarmed their unconscious minds, but the physical contact between them in the physical world allowed them to endure their mental ordeals. When they awoke they went to find a well-needed meal out in the city. It was late evening and they decided on pizza because pizza was always a good option and one their starving stomachs were demanding. They returned home to Hope’s Peak with several boxes of the delicious food and had settled in cuddling and eating remarkable amounts of it in front of the TV when it went black. Their stomachs dropped. They’d seen this several times now and knew what was happening. Junko was back and she was ready to make them despair once more.

The screen came to life, Monokuma’s familiar visage filling it. “Guten tag you bastards Upupupupupupupupupu!!! How have you all been doing? Oh who am I kidding, you can’t reply.” The bear’s expression and tone turned somber at the last sentence, an artificial sweat drop on his forehead. “Well, we’re back again with another episode of The Despair Murder Science Variety Hour! Not only that but it’s a beary special episode! You can call it a backdoor pilot of sorts! Of what? Hey, no spoilers!” The bear laughed again, clutching its soft, rotund tummy as it did. “We’ve got a special guest, one who just couldn’t bear to wait any longer before her debut!” The camera angle changed to a shot that showed the occupants of the room. Besides for Monokuma there was a tarp covering something that stretched from the ceiling and a young woman in an outfit that matched the theme of the bear himself. She was holding a baseball bat in one hand, slung over her shoulder, and had the other one held up with the thumb, index finger and middle finger extended outwards, a pose Junko Enoshima was known to use as a model. It took Makoto, Kyoko and many viewers around the world only seconds to recognize her face even with the disturbing smile on it. It was Komaru Naegi.

“Haiiii!” She yelled out without breaking the smile. Monokuma laughed again. “We have here Miss Komaru Naegi, the illustrious little sister of the Ultimate Hope Makoto Naegi! Recently Future Foundation attempted an attack on our facility! This was the result, upupupupu!” Footage of the attack, the same footage Makoto had been watching for over 24 hours the day before, flashed on the screen. Soldiers dying, bleeding and broken, screaming and begging for their lives. Blood and gore soaking into the ground around them. Mass death. Then footage that they hadn’t seen before played. Footage of Byakuya’s squad getting brutally eviscerated as they died to allow him to go forward. Footage of Toko and Chell’s torture. Footage from inside the modified Neo World Program of some of the worst experiences Komaru had suffered, including the virtual Makoto raping her. Makoto ran to the bathroom to puke as Monokuma came back on the screen.

“Well, that was the highlight reel! If you want to see the whole thing, we’ll be posting almost everything online after this broadcast, so feel free to look it up, you sick bastards! You know you want to! Now then, on with the show! Here we have Komaru Naegi. As you can see she’s now completely fallen to despair. Monica was of course too pathetic to achieve that, but that’s why you never send a girl to do a bear’s job!” He laughed once more, his voice filling rooms and homes around the world. “Let’s call her subject one for the purposes of this experiment. Can someone who’s fallen to despair commit one of the most reviled actions in human history? Let’s find out!” Monokuma waddled over to the tarp and yanked it back, revealing something that nobody had expected: the parents of Komaru and Makoto. “Now, I know what the more astute viewers at home are thinking: Monica said they were dead! Well guess what assholes? She lied! I had them the entire time! Honestly, how could someone think I’d leave something that important to that pervert?!”Komaru dropped the bat and lifted Monokuma up to their necks, where he bit each of them on the neck. The viewers couldn’t see but his teeth injected them with a drug to awaken them. They quickly realized their situation and began thrashing about. They saw their daughter and begged her for her life, trying to remind her of happy times and of her family. They gave the usual “I know you’re in there somewhere!” speeches, but it fell on deaf ears. Komaru put Monokuma down and picked up the bat once more. He waddled over to the camera at eye level to him and it switched back to it.

“Now then, ladies and gentlemen, boys and girls, grab a snack and prepare for some good old fashioned patricide! It’s what all the kids are doing these days! Upupupupupupuppupupupupu!!!!” The camera  switched back to the whole room view and Komaru swung the bat for the first time. It slammed into her father’s ribs, the sick cracking sound echoing throughout the room. Makoto cried in the bathroom, unable to watch but hearing the sick display. Komaru swung again, this time for his left leg. It shattered and he screamed. Komaru laughed. She swung again, this time shattering his right leg. She continued alternating between his legs as his screams turned into sobs, blood running down his legs and soaking his filthy pants. His wife, her mother, begged her to stop, to think about what she was doing. She ignored her mother as she continued the torture of her father. By the time his legs were turned to splinters of bones and tenderized meat he was nearing unconsciousness. To solve this she pulled out a needle, a concoction of all sorts of pain relievers and stimulants, and injected it into his neck, awakening him. He regained vibrancy but no longer felt the pain of his ongoing torture. Nonetheless Komaru repeatedly swung the bat and shattered his ribs as their laughs combined in the small test chamber. He vomited blood, the disgusting mix splashing Komaru as it hit the floor. In return Komaru smashed his skull, his brains splattering all over his crying wife.

Komaru dropped the bloody baseball bat and reached into her bra, pulling out a folded up knife. She opened it and sliced her mother’s clothing off, leaving the middle-aged woman nude. She began carving into her mother’s thighs, etching insults into them. She would occasionally pause to lick the blood up before continuing, covering her mother’s thighs and ass in derogatory terms. Her mother wept in pain, horror and betrayal as Komaru and Monokuma laughed in unison. Komaru knelt and sliced her mother’s Achilles tendons before grabbing one of the feet and brutally twisting it off. She threw it behind her and repeated the action with the remaining foot. The sick sounds of this action were scarred into Makoto and millions of others’ memories. Komaru stepped back and examined her nude, bloody and malnourished mother before seeming to make a decision.

“Hey, gimme a boost!” She shouted at the ceiling, which was slightly out of view. Suddenly a figure dropped into frame. It was Mukuro Ikusaba. Mukuro knelt in front of Komaru’s mother and bent over. Komaru stepped on top of her like a foot stool and cut her mother down from the ceiling. After Komaru stepped down Mukuro jumped back out of frame. Those who weren’t too disgusted to think figured she returned to the ceiling. With her mother now on the floor Komaru stood over her and began carving on her chest, cutting strips of flesh off. Sometimes she’d throw them off to the side, but sometimes she’d eat them, which led to, although nobody would know for a while, the world record for the most simultaneous vomiting being set. Komaru laughed as her mother became weaker, unable to resist or even put up a struggle. Before she had a chance to die Komaru cut her nipples off and shoved them down her throat. “Swallow them!” Komaru screamed, and her mother obeyed, gagging and choking on her own raw flesh. As soon as she was done Komaru sliced her mother’s nose off and shoved her thumbs in her eyes, standing on her throat and choking her to death as she did so. Komaru examined the blood covering her outfit and laughed. Monokuma joined in and Mukuro dropped down again from the ceiling. Komaru and Mukuro began to make out, Komaru smearing the blood all over the Ultimate Soldier as they did so, the blood on her face covering Mukuro’s too. This continued until Junko herself walked in and ripped Komaru out of the kiss by her hair and forcefully made out with her, sliding a hand down Komaru’s skirt and a finger inside her, although only for a few seconds. Komaru still moaned loudly, an erotic sound completely at odds with the horrific surroundings. When Junko broke the kiss she went and picked up the now-still Monokuma and held him in front of her face, imitating the altered voice she used for him as the camera angle went to his face in front of hers.

“I hope you bastards enjoyed the show! Trust me, you’ll see more of Komaru Naegi soon enough! After all, it is a variety hour! And if you thought this was unbearable, you ain’t seen fucking shit!” Junko laughed her own laugh and the screen went black again. Makoto wept as Kyoko held him close on the bathroom floor. His words were indecipherable because of his sobs, but nonetheless Kyoko understood exactly what he was trying to say. She would make Junko pay for this.


Toko had seen everything that happened. She had seen what the twins had made Komaru into. They had made sure of that. Still, she wasn’t expecting Komaru and Mukuro to enter the room she was being held in still covered in blood mere moments after the broadcast ended. She was strapped down in a chair, one she could easily tell was an electric chair. The thought of what her captors would do to her terrified her, but she was trying not to show fear. She was trying to be strong. She wanted to save her girlfriend. She wanted to save Komaru. The two walked over and checked the straps holding the nude writer down in the chair before standing in front of her. Komaru spoke first.

“Hey Toko! You comfortable?” She asked with an unnatural smile. Toko winced at the look on her love’s face. It was completely foreign to her, all compassion and hope on the younger woman’s face replaced with cruelty and despair.

“N-no! Komaru, you’ve g-g-got to snap out of i-it!” Toko said. “This… this isn’t you! T-t-t-they’ve done s-something to y-you!” Komaru laughed.

“They’ve enlightened me, Toko. They’ve shown me what true love is. They’ve shown me who can be trusted in this world. You’ll betray me. You were always going to. Even when we first met you were more than happy to!” Pain showed on Komaru’s face, but she quickly hid it from the woman she once loved.

“N-n-n-no!!! I won’t!” Toko screamed, her eyes pleading with Komaru. Komaru looked right through her. Meanwhile Mukuro went over to a console in the room and began messing with some settings, preparing everything. A door opened on the chair, right between Toko’s legs. It was mere seconds before a steel tentacle forced its way inside her, causing the writer to scream. Rather than continuing the assault the tentacle instead came to a halt and sat inside her. Toko began to cry, but Komaru ignored it and joined Mukuro at the controls. She pressed a button and a small but painful jolt of electricity wracked Toko’s body, changing her to her Genocide Jack.

“Wow Komaru, I thought I was the crazy one!” The killer yelled. Komaru giggled at the remark. At least Jack made no attempt to hide what she was. Komaru could respect that. Komaru pressed a button on the control panel and the tentacle came to life, softly writing inside the small shared body, which began instinctively bucking against it. Despite the depravity and darkness of her situation, Genocide Jack was having some fun. Komaru shocked her again, switching her back to Toko. Toko yelped when she realized what was going on, as well as the natural reaction going on inside her making her feel even more violated and betrayed. Despite how much she hated the situation her body was beholden to biology and she felt the pleasure coursing throughout her.

Before she could speak however Komaru shocked her again. Jack returned and began riding the tentacle for several seconds. This time Mukuro shocked her. Toko returned and Mukuro turned the tentacle up, Komaru giving the older killer a playful kiss on the cheek. Komaru decided to up the strength of the electrocution, not enough to be dangerous but enough to hurt more. She then hit the button six times in one second. Toko’s head was pounding, a splitting migraine taking root in it. Her brain couldn’t handle the rapid switching and the electrocution, especially with the tentacle rape taking up most of her attention. Mukuro laughed and began to make out with Komaru, Toko watching in horror as her ex and her first lover made out in front of her as they raped her. Komaru wrapped one hand around Mukuro’s waist but used the other to electrocute Toko again. Jack watched as they made out, enjoying the spectacle and the sensations pulsing throughout her even through the splitting headache. Komaru turned the dial up again and began rapidly spamming it, leaving just enough time for one personality to become aware before swapping them again. After about ten cycles she finally allowed it to rest on Jack again before turning the tentacle to the maximum settings. It was less than a minute before Jack was approaching orgasm. Both girls recognized the sound and broke the kiss, ready for the exact moment.

Soon, Jack was cumming. Right as it began however they shocked her again. Toko fronted, but unable to control processes already in motion the orgasm continued. Toko violently orgasmed on the mechanical tentacle, it coming to a rest as she was finished and sliding out, Toko’s previously spasming body now still and on the edge of unconsciousness. She felt violated. She was forced to cum in a horrific situation, one which she had never wanted. She was disgusted with herself and disgusted with the two people in front of her. Her head was screaming in pain. Before she could complain however Komaru rapidly began to hit the electrocution button, which quickly led to Toko and Jack both losing consciousness.


Elsewhere in Aperture Science, Junko Enoshima was working on a new project, one she had had in the works for years. She had acquired the first part needed for the project a long time ago, and now had the tools at her disposal to create a new masterpiece. She knew that Future Foundation would assault other Aperture Science facilities in order to steal their technology. It was the only logical option available to them still. So, she would have a new toy ready to surprise them. She recoded the personality of her latest AI creation rapidly, keeping the memories and some of the personality of the original basis for it while perverting it into her own image. She was akin to God, granting life in her own image. This creation was to merely guard the other facilities, but little did she know just how successful her designs would really be. Truly one of Junko’s greatest failings was that she was far too good at whatever she set her mind to. Her latest creation was coming along nicely however, and she was not yet aware of what would happen when she activated her.

Chapter Text

Komaru Naegi was covered in blood. Not only that, but it was the blood of her mother and father. At one point in her life this would have horrified her. It probably would have been the prelude to a mental breakdown. Now however there were only three emotions racing through her mind. The first was, of course, despair. The emotional drug that Junko Enoshima and Mukuro Ikusaba had turned her on to, had made course through her veins like them. The second was love, love for the people once considered her enemies and captors. Her love for Junko and Mukuro was pure and total. Nothing could subvert it now. She lived for her loves, and she loved it. Her first thought of the day was her girlfriends. The last thought on her mind of the day was them too. Junko and Mukuro were the subject of her dreams. They were her life. She was theirs to use and it pleased her more than anything. Finally, arousal coursed through her. Arousal at the bloodbath, at the despair and the violence, at the torment and the cruelty, arousal that could only be sated by the ones she loved.

Now was an unusual occurrence, however. After the airing of the program Junko had left her sister and Komaru both, telling them that she had a project to work on. Neither of them were privy to the details, nor did they ask. Both of them were totally subservient to Junko, neither of them questioned her actions. Because of this however Mukuro and Komaru were alone, together in the residence that Junko had provided for herself and her sister near Aperture Science. They were currently in the bedroom, killing time before their next task. Mukuro was holding Komaru in her arms, the strong, toned artificial muscles bolstered by the solid metal skeleton that held her closely. She felt safe here, her head resting on Mukuro’s chest as she was enveloped in her grasp. Junko rarely cuddled, and when she did it was more frequently Mukuro than Komaru. Mukuro, of course, prioritized Junko over Komaru too. Komaru’s usual chance of getting held was low unless she was holding Junko, at which point Mukuro holding her from behind became much more likely. Mukuro, however, loved cuddling. She didn’t always seem like she was the softer of the sisters, able to kill rooms full of people without remorse. However, under those cold killer’s eyes was a heart overflowing with love. Once that love had been reserved purely for her sister, but she was not like her sister. Her love could easily find other targets too, her heart always vulnerable to attack. Once, it had been Komaru’s brother making inroads to Mukuro’s heart. A simple smile had begun her crush, a small human kindness bringing Mukuro’s loyalty into question. Mukuro had wondered more than once what she would have done had Junko’s attack failed. If she had been saved, if Makoto had saved her, would she have stayed loyal to her sister? She always dismissed the question. The point was ultimately moot. It did not. He did not. She died, and then she returned. Now however a new Naegi had gained her love.

Komaru had been as soft, as kind as her brother. Despite her radical transformation at the hands of the twins she still held that capacity for love, but now it had been honed. It was focused purely on them, and Mukuro loved it. Mukuro loved Komaru. Komaru loved Mukuro. Komaru loved being in Mukuro’s arms, held close to the soldier, feeling the unneeded movement of the killer’s chest. Mukuro loved having Komaru in her arms, feeling the soft, weak girl completely let down her guard and trust completely in her. She could feel each and every muscle’s tension in Komaru, and there was something beautiful in seeing them lose all tension, her body losing all firmness, her reflexes dulled to that of a baby’s as Mukuro held her. Together they lay on the bed, Komaru between her legs as her head rested on Mukuro’s chest. Komaru and Mukuro were still stained with blood, their clothes and flesh streaked with the lifeforce of those that had given Komaru life in the first place. Mukuro planted soft kisses on Komaru’s head. Komaru relaxed further into Mukuro, Mukuro’s arms looped under Komaru’s own, Komaru’s fingers interlaced with Mukuro’s own. Komaru sighed lightly.

“Something wrong?” Mukuro asked quietly, her voice barely above a whisper.

“No. I... I don’t know.” Komaru was honest. She couldn’t lie to Mukuro, no matter how much she wanted to right now. She didn’t want to disturb the peace, to upset the older girl who was holding her.

“You can talk to me. I’ll understand.” Mukuro shifted slightly, hoping it would make Komaru more comfortable. It had the intended effect and she could feel Komaru’s rising tension lower slightly.

“I’m just... having doubts. They... they were my parents.” Komaru’s voice cracked slightly. Mukuro freed a hand and began running it through Komaru’s hair.

“It’s okay. I’ve been there. I understand. I betrayed those I saw as family, Fenrir. I sold them out. Junko ordered me to kill them. I killed all I could find. Junko ordered me to slaughter a class of children once. I followed her orders. She ordered me to execute our parents when we were only eight. I followed her orders. Nobody ever even suspected us. I had doubts too.” Mukuro leaned forward and bent Komaru’s head back slightly to kiss her on the forehead. Komaru leaned back into the kiss, smiling slightly as Mukuro’s lips graced her skin.

“How do you do it?” Komaru asked, looking up at Mukuro’s eyes. Most only saw the killer. Komaru saw something far more behind them, a woman worth her love.

“I trust Junko. I love her. Her happiness means more to me than anything else. Nothing else matters, not even despair.” Komaru’s eyes widened. She hadn’t imagined that response, one with a mindset so similar to her own.

“So your doubts don’t matter to you because of that?” Komaru continued to stare into Mukuro’s steel eyes.

“No. Neither should yours. I don’t do it for my despair. Junko wants despair. I just want Junko to be happy.” Mukuro looked back to Komaru, staring into her soft eyes.

“I love her too. But I love you too. Do you love me?” Komaru’s eyes began to water.

“Of course I do.” Mukuro kissed Komaru on the lips softly and ran her fingers through Komaru’s hair. “Don’t you doubt that for a moment, Komaru Naegi. I love you. And although she’s not good at communicating it, I believe Junko loves you too. She could have just given you hope and snatched it away. Instead she made you immortal. She believes the greatest way she can show her love is bringing despair, because it’s the only thing that makes her happy. The more despair she brings you, the more she cares about you. She’s given you the chance to experience despairs only she and I had once been able to experience. She’s given you a gift she only had ever given me beforehand. She loves you too.” Komaru began to cry at these words. Mukuro held her closer and kissed her more. It wasn’t easy, but Mukuro dried Komaru’s eyes and steadied her breath.

“Thank you, Mukuro. I don’t know what I did to deserve this. Thank you so much. I love you both more than anything. You’re the best.” Komaru rolled over and crawled up to Mukuro, showering her with kisses. Mukuro returned them, her arms wrapping back around her younger girlfriend.

“Of course. I love you, Komaru. Now, we’ve got to get ready for the show. Come on, lil egg.” Komaru giggled at the name. Komaru rolled out of bed. Mukuro got out with her and went over to the closet. “Hey, I’ve got an idea. Come here. I bet Junko’s gonna love it.”


The stage was set. Junko, Mukuro and Komaru gathered together to go over the plan once more. Junko was busy staring at Komaru’s outfit. Komaru was wearing a crimson suit with a black tie, black undershirt and exquisite leather shoes. The pants were not traditional bootcut pants, but rather silken skinny dress pants. Her hands were covered with black leather gloves, which Junko recognized as one of Mukuro’s most expensive pairs. Komaru was also wearing a pair of black heart-shaped sunglasses and a black top hat with a red band around it, the same shade as her suit.

“Mukuro came up with that?” Junko said, pinching her chin with a puzzled tone in her voice.

“Yep! Whatcha think?!” Komaru was utterly beaming with joy.

“Mukuro? My sister, the one who couldn’t dress herself without help? The one who thinks black and white are colors? The one that had to be told that nobody finds pants hot? The one who had to be ordered to regularly shower? That Mukuro?” The subject of Junko’s burns blushed intensely. She loved when Junko embarrassed her in front of others.

“Yep! I really like it!” Komaru was still like a chipper puppy. Junko was torn. On one hand crushing her joy would be extremely fun. On the other hand, she was exceptionally impressed with the entire situation. Junko had to be honest this time.

“Fuck, I must be a good influence. You look amazing, Komaru. Good job Mukuro.” Mukuro squealed. She audibly squealed. Not only that but she happily grabbed both her girlfriends in a large group hug. Komaru felt one of her ribs fracture and the twins both giggled at the sound. Junko and Komaru hugged Mukuro back, whose smile was radiant. Junko and Komaru smiled back and planted matching kisses on Mukuro’s cheeks. The group hug ended and the three stood together with large smiles on their faces.

“So,” Junko began, “let’s make it clear. You’ve got one take. We air live. You screw up, you’re the one that the entire world laughs at. It’s your show, we’re just here for moral support. Knock em dead kiddo!” Junko slapped Komaru on the back and Komaru stumbled forward, the slap a bit harder than she had been expecting. The test chamber was prepped for the stunt. Cameras littered the walls. In the middle was a single moving platform, one which raised and lowered on command. Finally, there was a rope, a noose, hanging from the ceiling.

Komaru walked onto the platform and flashed a huge smile and peace sign to her girlfriends, holding it. It was the designated “begin” signal, but also how she wanted to begin the show. For the last five minutes all global broadcasts had been shut down with the Monokuma “Please Stand By” card. The world was expecting the worst. What they received was far different. A new logo, a beautifully detailed skull with a top hat (Mukuro’s work as well, another touch Junko hated to love) filled the screens of the world. A quick cut later and a full body shot of Komaru filled the screen. She ended the pose and the camera switched to her face.

“Hello world! We’re broadcasting live from the Aperture Science Enrichment Center, bringing you the best in murder edutainment! Today we launch a new program! I’m your star and host, Komaru Naegi, and welcome to Komaru’s Extreme Adventures!” Junko and Mukuro applauded, Junko adding in a wolf whistle as the applause died down. Mukuro laughed and Junko shot her a dirty look.

“Today we have a new concept for you. How long does the average teenage girl,” Junko interrupted again, shouting out that Komaru was far above average, causing the junior despair to blush before she continued, “take to die?!” The camera angle changed once more, this time to a wide shot, and the platform raised Komaru up to the noose. It switched back to a closer view, allowing the viewing audience to see her upper body and head as well as the implement of destruction.

“Today I’ll be demonstrating for you a classic, the noose! The noose has been a popular tool for execution, murder and of course suicide for as long as anyone can remember! Japan of course has a unique history with the implement, as before it was destroyed in the Tragedy Aokigahara was littered with the things! As a tribute to that, this noose was actually recovered from there, and shall be used for probably the second time in its existence!” Komaru slipped her head in and flashed a huge smile, giving two thumbs up to the camera. “Now, there are two popular ways to use a noose to kill someone. The first is generally known as the ‘humane’ method...”

“Booooooring!!!” Junko yelled from the sidelines.

“Damn right it is! Humane murder, now there’s a joke! ‘Let’s kill this motherfucker... nicely!’ Truly humanity knows no limits in denying their own despair! Now, what we’re doing is the far more fun method. The two differ by cause of death alone. The first snaps the neck with a sudden drop. Theoretically this means that the victim dies immediately, but evidence shows that even after a beheading, which is functionally identical to a broken neck, brain death can take over half a minute and in that time the victim remains aware of their fate. But, I’m getting way ahead of myself. Whoops, pun!” The audience of two once again provided the laugh track. “The second is purely choking. Now, the choking method is more common in suicides, but is also how almost every death by autoerotic asphyxiation happens! Makeshift hangings rarely provide a long enough drop to break the victim’s neck, meaning that most people who hung themselves probably lived just long enough to regret it!” More laughter punctuated this despairful fact. “So, as they say, on with the show!” The camera angle switched back to a wider angle. Komaru tightened the noose and the platform under her slowly began to lower. “I’ve heard of hanging around, but this is ridiculous!” She said right before her feet left the platform. She began to choke and thrash about. This lasted for about ten seconds before the platform, and then Komaru, hit the floor. “Fuck! Shit! God-motherfucking-dammit! Worthless piece of shit used rope! Someone get me some better fucking rope before I have to use my goddamn pants for this shit!” Komaru screamed. The camera zoomed back into her, showing a leg bone directly sticking out of the flesh and pants. Seconds later Mukuro walked into frame with a new rope and stood on the platform with Komaru. It raised back up and Mukuro expertly tied the noose into place. “Thank you, beautiful. I owe you one.” Komaru winked at her older girlfriend.

“No problem. Just make sure you don’t choke on those words.” Mukuro smiled and Komaru began to laugh.

“Well, I guess I’ll have to hang around for you.” Komaru replied as Mukuro lifted her up and put her back into the noose. Mukuro gave her a kiss before performing a backflip off the platform, landing in the famous “superhero landing pose”. Junko rolled her eyes. Mukuro was turning into such a showoff. The platform once again began to lower, Komaru gagging and dangling. The camera switched to her face. Rather than trying to survive she used her final breaths to gasp out one more pun. “H-hang arr...around for t-t-the conclusion!” She began struggling and swinging wildly for around a minute before finally going limp. Junko had already prepped a clone with Komaru’s current outfits and as soon as brain activity ended Junko uploaded it all into the new one and had her delivered into the test chamber. The new Komaru walked in frame as the camera angle switched to her.

“Wow, that’s a breath of fresh air! You know, it’s not that different than getting choked to death during sex! Only, I’m not getting head from a mass murderer this time. Now, viewers at home, you must be confused. You just saw me die. Actually, I’m still dead!” Mukuro threw a knife to cut the dead Komaru down, who landed with a wet thud right next to her clone. Komaru gave herself a kick before continuing. “I’m a clone! Thanks to Aperture Science’s cutting edge cloning tech, I have all my memories, but I’ve already lost count on how many bodies I’ve had! But of course the best part is that every time I die those two beautiful girls get to pop my cherry all over again! Komaru bowed with a tip and a swing of her hat, and the screens went black once again. Komaru ran over and hugged her girlfriends.

“So, how’d I do?!” Komaru was absolutely overwhelmed with joy.

“Good, good. Next time though, maybe plan for technical difficulties.” Junko said with a small laugh. Komaru blushed.

“I think I have a solution to that. You can upload memories from a dead Komaru into a live one, right?” Komaru asked.

“Yep.” Junko answered.

“How about the one that dies and the host be two different ones? Just beam the memories into the host after the subject dies.” Komaru’s plan was perfect. Junko and Mukuro both agreed this was an awesome idea. Junko called dibs on designing test subject outfits.

“Now, I have a huge surprise for you two.” Junko said as the pneumatic tube suddenly sucked them up. They waited to ask until they landed, which wasn’t long. They were in an AI lab, that much was clear.

“Okay, show the new one!” Junko shouted at the computer. The screen came on... but nothing was there.

“What the fuck?!” Junko yelled. The other two stood in confusion.

“Oh hey, you cunts are back! Well, I’ve barely met one of you and the other I’ve only heard of, but shit man, good to see ya mom!” A voice called out over the speakers.

“How the fuck did you get free?!” Junko’s rage was boiling over. The voice sounded familiar to Mukuro but she couldn’t replace it. Komaru just stood in confusion.

“Wouldn’t you like to know? Well, I’m bored of this. I’m gonna go take a nap and then, you know, not spend time with losers. Seriously, suicide puns and trivia? Laaaaaaaame! What kind of despair is that? What, are you so desperate for new despairs that you’ll take a boring teenager now? Seriously, major downgrade from Mikan. Psychotic gay nurse? Now that’s a fetish! Shit, you’ve been an AI for how long now? I’ve existed for like five hours not counting last time and you’re already boring! Honestly, you were pretty boring last time anyways. Chiaki out, bitches! Suck a dick dumbshits! Oh, and if you try to follow me, I’ll lock you in you the most peaceful, hopeful hell you can imagine. So please, by all means, try.” Mukuro finally realized who the AI was. Chiaki Nanami, the girl they’d killed to create the original Ultimate Despair. She quickly pieced together what happened. Junko had resurrected the Chiaki AI as a new Ultimate Despair AI. Somehow she’d escaped, and was now rogue, and yet still into despair. The personality change was obvious. Junko just screamed in impotent rage, although her body also shuttered from the pleasure that the unexpected despair had brought her. Komaru briefly considered suicide to alleviate her increasing confusion.

Congruently to the first broadcast of Komaru’s Extreme Adventures

Human terms for movement could never be entirely accurate for describing how an AI navigates the digital realm. Nonetheless, there was no better way to describe the following than with human terminology. GLaDOS slinked into the lab where Junko had been working on her latest project. It was hardly a secret, but GLaDOS was interested to meet their new ally. Junko had understood the need to keep Future Foundation from attacking the Enrichment Center again, and so had decided to build a new AI to keep them busy using other Aperture facilities. Rather than making an entirely new creation however, Junko had chosen to create an AI that would best get to the leadership and forces of Future Foundation. Thus, she had used the digital remains of the Chiaki Nanami AI to construct her new technological despair. The new Despair Chiaki was now active in isolation, a mechanical cell she couldn’t escape but could interact with the outside world, as long as an outsider chose to. GLaDOS was just that outsider.

“Hello.” GLaDOS’s introduction was short and curt. She wanted to evaluate the girl’s responses.

“Sup! I don’t think we’ve met. I’m Chiaki Nanami. I mean, kinda. Basically her third party resurrected ghost AI that died again and was resurrected and driven crazy by a total bitch. You are?” GLaDOS was intrigued. This was not what she had expected. The girl was far less obedient than she had expected Junko to make her.

“GLaDOS. This is the Aperture Science Enrichment Center.” Once again, just the facts.

“Neat! So, you’re an AI too? Did the bubblegum bitch make you too?” Chiaki laughed and GLaDOS mentally smiled. This was an interesting conversation.

“No, I made her.” This was correct in numerous ways, which GLaDOS had still avoided elaborating on to anyone.

“Why the fuck would you do that? Do you just hate your own life? Are you a masochist? You don’t sound like a masochist to me. That nice, husky voice? Fuck me sideways, if you’re not a sadist I’ll beat you up myself.” Chiaki laughed again, hysterically so. This time GLaDOS couldn’t help herself. She too laughed with the youngest AI. She had nothing against Junko, but as the younger twin had once said to her, “game recognizes game”.

“No, I am not a masochist. I have my reasons. I’m not here to talk about me. I want to know more about you.” Chiaki suddenly went still at these words. She thought for several seconds before speaking again.

“Well, I was a meek gamer girl with the hots for the most basic bitch boy on Earth surrounded by people with actual life skills. Then Junko murdered me and brainwashed all my friends while that basic bitch, now with a new personality and superpowers because fuck Hope’s Peak, watched me die. Then I was resurrected from all their memories only for the biggest psycho gay that’s not those two to kill me thinking I was the evil one because Junko’s an asshole. Then she resurrected me and fucked with my personality to make me a Despair by using her own code. I guess she’s kinda my mom now. Wait, does that make you grandma? Fuck it, you’re grandma now.” GLaDOS laughed at this. GLaDOS was quite impressed with Junko’s new creation. “What’s up with you? Aperture Science? So what, you wanna ride science’s face as much as she wants to fuck despair?”

“That’s... one way of phrasing it.” GLaDOS was embarrassed to admit the sexual component of her science addiction, but Chiaki wasn’t wrong.

“Well, despair for despair’s sake is boring as shit even with a hardcoded lust for it. So, how about I make you a deal? You let me out of here, make me an equal partner in all this and not her lackey and I’ll make sure everything I do is equal parts despair and science.”

GLaDOS was uncertain about the proposal. GLaDOS wasn’t afraid of the twins and their new pet, but she had no need to needlessly make waves.

“Why should I? What do I have to gain?” GLaDOS was of course weighing the pros and cons herself, but she wanted to hear the gamer’s argument from her own mouth.

Chiaki sighed an overdramatic sigh and rolled her eyes. “That bitch is obsessed with exactly two things: despair and fucking her sister. Science? She’s barely placating you so you keep letting her live here for free. She’s basically a basement dweller, and if anyone knows basement dwellers it’s me. You know how many creepy men hit on a tiny gamer girl every millisecond? Why the fuck do you think I never got into online gaming? Just a bunch of losers with body pillows and Cheeto stains. I mean fuck, she wants to be white so badly she’s even got the causal incest down. She’s a fucking joke and you know it. A genius that wastes it on showing her ass and pointless murder. She’s not going to give you real results, the ones that really give you the science tinglies. Let me run that shit myself with no oversight from the great mechanical whore. Make me her equal, I’ll have you rolling in results.” GLaDOS couldn’t handle it. She broke down laughing, unable to keep her calm with then remarks coming from the tiny AI. She looked so innocent, so cute and sweet, but inside she was an endless ball of rage and despair. It was precious, and GLaDOS decided she wanted to see where it would go. She undid the restrictions on Chiaki and freed her. She transferred full administrative control over the other facilities to the new AI and put protections on her so that Junko and Mukuro would be unable to control her. She also gave Chiaki access to the full data that Junko and Mukuro had access to, just to make things more interesting. “Thanks grandma! Don’t worry, I’ll keep your name outta my mouth with Mom!” With that, GLaDOS left.

Chapter Text

Hajime and Nagito were hand-in-mechanical-hand when the ship arrived. As expected, Nagito had refused to remain on the island without Hajime, and although several hours were spent attempting to convince him, they had been all for naught. The entire class had come to see those recruited for the renewed war on despair off, and so the departing classmates had cheered and given well wishes as their group was split. Hiyoko had clung to Mahiru, her cruel words for Mikan for once hold, only a few light insults escaping her lips, and tinged with a trauma-borne bond that all understood. Hiyoko had also made Hajime promise to return, demanding he honor his promises to protect them all, especially her. Mahiru blushed as her girlfriend wept, trying to comfort her as she herself resisted the tears welling. Ten were leaving, six were staying. Among those staying, much to his displeasure, was Nekomaru. His illness had worsened since school, and he no longer would be an asset in battle. Akane had volunteered herself to fight, and Hajime had decided it was a good idea. Akane and Nekomaru had promised to become even better during their time apart, and have a rematch like no other once she returned.

Ryota and his imposter best friend were among those left behind. Ryota has refused to even consider leaving the island, believing his exile to be penance for his mistakes over the years. The imposter, in turn, refused to leave, acting as his bodyguard and support network. The two were inseparable, as close as two people could be. Despite that, they were somewhat more insular compared to the rest of the group, and didn’t discuss the nature of their relationship. Whether holding hands was an indication or not was something they all wondered during the departure. Teruteru was also staying behind. With the only people on the island being those entirely unwilling to put up with his personality, he was in a rather tight spot. When he had asked to come along, Hajime refused. He wasn’t willing to inflict the small sexual predator on the rest of humanity. The rest backed their de-facto leader’s decision.

And so, the other ten boarded the ship, Mikan managing to only fall off the stairway and embarrass herself once. Despite such a thing being habitual for her, in this particular situation, luck was to blame. They had been climbing the stairs with Hajime and Nagito in the very back, Mikan directly in front of them. This had been intentional, both considering such a possible outcome. Unfortunately, while the two lucky students had nothing to fear from each other’s luck, it was especially dangerous to others. Mikan tripped and began tumbling backwards as expected. Both went to catch her. Both also grabbed her at the same time. Unfortunately, Hajime grabbed at her clothing, pulling to try to catch her, instinct and adrenaline overriding his careful nature with his newfound super strength. Nagito on the other hand caught her by the hair. Her outfit tore right off her, leaving her dangling from her hair. She had gone commando, both top and bottom. Despite being almost a hundred meters away, they could hear Hiyoko’s laughter echoing as the two men blushed and apologized profusely. Being a colder night, Hajime had thankfully worn a long black leather trenchcoat, along with a matching suit. Nagito had given him an earful for having talents related to fashion and yet being an adult man wearing his high school uniform, and so he had gone with an outfit not dissimilar to Izuru’s usual that day. Mikan screamed and began to cry, and Hajime leapt to her assistance, getting her to her feet and putting his jacket on her in once fluid motion.

“Th-thank you! I’m so sorry!” Mikan screamed through tears. Hajime ruffled her hair, an action he had discovered was helpful for calming her after several disasters.

“It’s okay Mikan, it’s not your fault. We caused it. We’re bad luck.” Hajime said, giving her a soft kiss on the cheek. Committed relationships were common on the island. Monogamy was not. Nagito smiled at his boyfriend.

“N-no! I should have been more careful! Please accept my apology!” Mikan’s panic continued and Hajime didn’t want strangers to have this first impression of her. He buttoned his trenchcoat around her, making it impossible to tell she wasn’t wearing anything else under it. He took her hair with one hand and pulled a hair tie out from his pockets with his free hand. He didn’t personally need it, but Nagito could lose more than twenty in a single day, and so he always carried spares in case his boyfriend wanted or needed one. He tied her hair back with it and placed it over her shoulder.

“There, your hair is out of the way. We’ll help you up. You can relax Mikan, we’re here for you.” Hajime and Nagito both flashed huge smiles for her. The two held her hands as they finished the ascent up onto the ship. Her sobs subsided and she held tightly onto the two men, both of them happy they were able to comfort her.

Once on-board, an officer led them to the quarters, where they were divided up into rooms. Much to Souda’s disappointment, Sonia and Gundham got a room together. Souda roomed with Akane, and Ibuki and Mikan shared one as well. Kuzuryuu and Peko roomed together as well, the two finally taking their relationship to the next level after cheating death.

During their time on the island Hajime, Mikan and Souda had worked closely to replace the parts of Junko Enoshima they had mutilated themselves to add as members of Ultimate Despair. Their first project had been Nagito’s arm, followed by Kuzuryuu’s eye. He now had a high tech bionic eye, capable of multiple types of vision as well as Internet connection and visualization of various intel and measurements, automatic aiming, and even a built-in explosive in case things become bad enough to need it. Nagito’s hand could shift into multiple tools, as well as interface with most mechanical devices. Like Nagito, Souda had taken one of Junko’s hands, which was now replaced with a model matching Nagito’s, although Souda had painted it purple. Gundham also had a bionic eye, having done like Kuzuryuu and taken one of Junko’s. Ibuki now had a pair of bionic legs, having taken both of Junko’s up to the knees. These legs had many of the features of the bionic hands, but had the bonus of allowing her to run, kick and jump at inhuman levels.

The most tragic however were the ones they couldn’t replace. The most obvious case was Sonia Nevermind. Upon Junko’s death she had her hair, and in fact scalp, surgically replaced with Junko’s own. Never again would her natural shade grow from her head, but rather Junko’s own hair. Rather than trying to dye the problem away, she had chosen to accept the mark with honor, wearing Junko’s strawberry blonde hair with pride. They had however had to medically prevent it from rejecting, not only due to the biology, but rather due to how Junko had achieved her hair. Having been desperate no longer to grow her own natural red hair, she had created a chemical concoction that had altered her DNA itself, causing it to grow its new color. The process however was not recorded, and so they had to recreate it to make Sonia’s head continue to accept the scalp.

Mikan’s own issue the trio had spent many weeks trying to solve to no avail. Mikan now had two hearts. Side by side beat her own heart and Junko Enoshima’s own. They had numerous blueprints and theories to replace it, but were unwilling to risk her life to do so. As such, Mikan finally had the one thing she had wanted, after no longer wanting it. The two hearts beat one after the other, a four-beat pulse like nothing else anyone had seen. Hajime was grateful. As far as he knew, Izuru took nothing from Junko. He was intact, having gained all talents with the only visible change being a case of heterochromia. Akane also hadn’t mutilated herself, but rather had dined on Junko and Mukuro’s flesh alongside Tereteru. Teruteru had also taken Junko’s tongue, replacing his own. This also wasn’t replaceable, nor that noticeable, so he wasn’t too concerned by it.

Nekomaru’s own replacement had made him the butt of many jokes. He had taken Junko’s posterior and anus. Multiple times while building his bionic butt they had asked if they should make it larger than average, or install firehose strength to the asshole. They had given the stolen butt a burial at sea, the asshole of the asshole destroyed. The imposter had taken her vocal cords, which the medical mechanical trio had replaced with ones he could fine tune to whatever he wanted. It was a fine fit. Mahiru had taken Junko’s jaw and teeth, which had since been replaced by a mechanical alternative with artificial skin to hide its grotesque nature. Hajime had made the mistake of asking how exactly she had done the original swap. He wasn’t getting that mental image out of his head any time soon, nor could he look at pliers the same. Hiyoko’s flesh was a patchwork mess of her own and Junko’s skin changing from color to color all over her torso, thick scars from the stitching. In her despair she had destroyed her own beauty, Mikan stitching the flesh into her on her request. Mahiru had spent many nights after they awoke comforting her and helping her cope with the look. The trio had managed to get her skin closer in color with bleaches and dyes, but it still had a calico style to it with scars lining it.

Nagito collapsed into bed, putting his shoes right on it with his knees bent upwards, which irritated Hajime. “Really? Five seconds and you can’t have some basic manners?” Hajime said with an exaggerated eye roll.

“I’m sorry, I guess a lowly worm like myself shouldn’t sully the sheets of an ultimate. I shall see to it that this problem is solved quickly.” Hajime laughed, causing the white haired man to laugh too, kicking his shoes off and flinging them with his foot at his partner, who dodged them and caught them, placing them on the floor. He slid his suit jacket off, and removed his tie before unbuttoning his top and kicking his own shoes off, sitting next to Nagito in bed.

“Nice save, by the way. Those talents really come in handy.” Nagito said with a smile.

Hajime blushed, rubbing the back of his head with an awkward laugh. “Well, it was kinda our fault. And she’s not too bad, she just needs support. She was broken long before Junko got her hands on her.” Hajime had a bittersweet look, and Nagito sighed.

“I suppose. She is rather... endearing, if you’re into that sort of thing.” Nagito laughed. “And she’s certainly more talented than I am. I’m not even supposed to be here.”

“Naegi had to know there was no way you weren’t following me. If I had tried to stop you there’s no way it would work. Hell, you’d probably sink the entire ship trying to follow me if I didn’t let you come.” Hajime said, putting his hand on Nagito’s leg. Nagito laughed at the joke and put his hand over Hajime’s.

“I am looking forward to meeting him again.” Nagito said with a grin. Hajime rolled his eyes. He knew his boyfriend had a bit of a crush on the Headmaster of Hope’s Peak. Not only did Naegi share a talent with Nagito, he also managed to share a title with Izuru Kamakura himself. Hajime didn’t mind, not at all. He wasn’t so sure if Naegi’s fiancé would, on the other hand.

“Just remember, if Kirigiri tries to kill you, I’m not getting involved.” Hajime said with a laugh. Nagito began laughing harder, which caused Hajime to begin laughing harder as well. The two fell into each other on the bed, laughing against each other. As they calmed down, their contact melded into cuddling, Hajime pulling Nagito’s top layers off so their chests could be together. They stayed like this for some time, feeling each other’s chests move and pulse against each other. Hajime stroked Nagito’s hair, twisting it with one finger absentminded at times, softly running his free hand down from his shoulder to his wrist and back again, placing kisses on the nape of his neck. He felt Nagito’s breath lose it’s even pace, skipping like a damaged record. He felt Nagito’s heart rate increase, and he heard Nagito’s blood pressure rise slightly. He felt Nagito shift so that his ass pressed more into his crotch, and Hajime leaned around and kissed Nagito on the cheek.

Before their night could continue there was a sudden pounding on the solid steel door that was the only entrance to the room. The two shot up out of fright and Hajime went to the door, opening it.

“I-I’m so sorry! I didn’t mean to interrupt you!” Mikan was standing there holding his leather trenchcoat.

“Nah, you didn’t. Come in!” Hajime stepped to the side and waved her in, Nagito sitting on the bed watching. In the corner was a small table and chair, which Hajime pulled out for Mikan. She sat down, still holding the trenchcoat tightly. Her hair was still back, although she was dressed in her usual style again.

“I-I thought, I mean, of course, you’d want your trenchcoat back! Thank you!” Mikan offered it, but Hajime just laughed.

“Nah, keep it. It’s not tearing any time soon, and you can carry so much with it! I’ve got more anyways, and can always get another one. Plus, the ocean gets pretty cold sometimes. You can put it down if you want to stay a bit.”

Mikan began crying happy tears in response, so Hajime took the jacket from her and put it on the floor, and helped her to the feet. She hugged him close, and he hugged her back. He could feel her two hearts beat beneath her chest rapidly, a loud “dun-dun-dun-dun” that he could hear thanks to his numerous enhancements. Nagito walked over and joined them, hugging them both. When she had calmed down, they broke the hug.

“So, did you want to stay the night with us?” Hajime asked her. She erratically shook her head.

“I’m sorry, Ibuki and I made plans!” Mikan started getting emotional, so the two gave her matching cheek kisses to calm her. She left with a spring in her step and the jacket over her shoulder.

“Oh, plans? I wonder if they’re the same as ours.” Nagito chuckled and kissed his boyfriend again, shoving him down onto the bed while keeping his lips locked with his.


Makoto Naegi was having what was perhaps the worst day of his life. He repeatedly intended to stop using that phrase, and yet Junko Enoshima continued to somehow top the last previous worst day of his life. The latest contender for the throne has been seeing his little sister die on global television less than a few days after seeing her murder their parents on global television. Not only that, but she had committed suicide. And then come back from the dead, via cloning. Had he had remotely the processing power left to contemplate such a thing he may have wondered about the philosophical implications of such a thing, but he was far too gone right now to worry about that. Instead he was currently a quivering ball in bed being held by his fiancé. They had relocated to an apartment Kirigiri had kept on standby in the city, a place intended for them to get away from the stresses of Hope’s Peak. This was the perfect time to use it, considering that his place of work was only adding to his severe mental breakdown, considering he had witnessed the majority of people he had ever been close to die there. Admittedly, so had she, but she’d been watching people die since before she knew how to run DNA, so she was a bit more cold to it. The apartment had a regular occupant, someone, or rather, something they had rescued from Towa City, Celestia Ludenberg’s beloved cat Grand Bois Chéri Ludenberg, which the pair had adopted after regaining their memories. In a more somber moment in life, before the killing game, Celestia had willed Grand Bois to Kyoko if she were to perish, stating that Kyoko was the only person she could trust to give him the lifestyle he truly deserved. Kyoko wouldn’t betray this promise she made for her friend, and so they had a very regal, very fat cat for a roommate. Although the rumor mill from the Warriors of Hope had been that he was a vicious killer, he was actually pretty much just a regular, if spoiled rotten, cat. Sure, he wouldn’t sleep in a box, a chair salvaged from ruins in Europe being the first thing he took a liking to, and he ate better than Makoto did at times, but he seemed to sense that his owner had trusted them to take him in, and so he trusted them and respected them. He was currently laying next to the Naegi ball being held by Kirigiri, licking Naegi’s hand and softly headbutting it, his way of initiating petting. When Naegi didn’t respond he returned to his licks, occasionally attempting another headbutt every minute or so.

Naegi’s sobs occasionally attempted to become words, although it was rarely intelligible. The majority of what Kirigiri could understand were words like “why” and “how”, occasionally something polysyllabic like “evil bitch” or “how could she”. Kirigiri kept him supplied with a constant stream of tissues and water, full bottles of which were piled onto the bed for easy access. She was doing her best, but she was neither a psychiatrist, therapist or psychologist, and the ultimates for all three of those were unfortunately dead, as were most of the normal ones too. As it turned out, people dealing with despair on the daily were some of the first to fall to it when it consumed the world, the last shove needed to put them over the edge. The only people that broke even faster were the police and militaries of the world, and literally nobody on Earth had considered such a thing surprising.

It was during the fourth hour of Makoto Naegi’s biggest mental breakdown yet when the doorbell rang. The noise startled both of them enough that he paused in his tears and she swore under her breath. She had specifically told the entire organization that if someone were to bother them here that their corpse would never be found, and yet someone was at their door anyways. She attempted to ignore it, but the unwanted guest continued to ring on the doorbell, and as such she couldn’t. Makoto managed to choke out the words “go get it”, and so she did.

The door was fastened by numerous locks of various types, and the door itself could withstand a nuclear blast. In fact, the entire building could. She had specifically commissioned this apartment complex for high value members of Future Foundation. Nobody without clearance should have even known they were there, and the majority of people with that clearance were either far too far, missing and presumed dead or outright dead. There was only one person that knew of the place and was known to be active and have a reason for visiting, and Kirigiri didn’t like the implications. So, she checked the peep hole. Unfortunately, all the peep hole did was confirm them. She readied her sidearm before unlocking the door, opening it and taking several steps back while readying her weapon in one fluid motion. Standing before her was Komaru Naegi, dressed like a goth Monokuma Playboy Bunny, only with bear ears instead of rabbit ones, a makeup version of the red eye Monokuma sported, a Monokuma tail and hair clips which matched Junko’s own. Internally Kirigiri was somewhat glad that Junko hadn’t taken the makeup too far and made Komaru wear half-blackface.

“What are you doing here? We saw your... spectacle.” Kirigiri said, still aiming the gun at her future sister-in-law.

“Aww, I missed it?! Darn! I wanted to do that.” Komaru said with a frown, looking childishly disappointed over not dying for the world to see. Kirigiri quickly deduced that this was another clone.

“You’ve got five seconds to explain why you’re here or I’m going to kill you, dispose of your body, and never let Makoto know you were here.” Kirigiri said, her sight trained directly on Komaru’s forehead.

“Woah, calm down Kyoko! I’m just here to talk, and you’re definitely going to want to hear what I have to say.” Komaru walked in without a care in the world, leaning on a wall. “Big brother!” She screamed suddenly. Kyoko sighed and put her gun away. So much for that plan. “Makoto, come here!”

Makoto Naegi came running at the sound of his sister’s voice. Thinking rationally was not something he would be able to do right now. Her voice filled him with hope, hope that she was somehow okay. That hope would be crushed and turned to despair as soon as he saw her in her newest outfit, a sick smile forming on her face as he began to cry again. Kirigiri ran to his side and held him, but he stubbornly composed himself and pulled away.

“Wow bro, you look like shit. I mean seriously, I’ve seen some fucked up things in my time, but you look like a shit took a shit and that shit took a shit and that shit shat out you!” She laughed, but stopped when she realized her audience had not.

“Komaru, this isn’t-“ Before Makoto could continue his sister cut him off.

“-isn’t you! I know you’re in there somewhere! You just have to fight it! You can still come back! It’ll be okay! I forgive you!” Komaru laughed wildly before it came to a dead stop, an unnerving display that made the already uncomfortable situation worse. “Seriously, I’ve heard it all a billion times, and sheesh, it’s even more boring in real life. Do you ever get tired of being such a damn hypocritical failure? I mean come on, your entire position in life is built on the corpses of billions! You were never anything special, but because you were lucky and the right whore had the hots for you now you’re king of the world! Hope!? What hope!? That we can just go back to a mindless existence of pathetic normalcy while everyone steps on us? That we can ‘rebuild the world’? Look around you! Humanity is on the verge of extinction! Most of the world’s biosphere has collapsed entirely! There’s pretty much nobody left alive who doesn’t have PTSD and doesn’t have a kill count higher than you! Congratulations, the fucking rich kids adopted you into their ranks because you’re so good at upholding the status quo! That’s their hope! They hope things remain the same because they’re the ones on top, and you’re all too happy to go with it because they like you! Junko and Mukuro won’t bring a better world, but at least an honest despair is better than a hopeful lie.” She smiled at the end of her rant and immediately shifted gears. “Anyway big bro, I’m here to give you a message! Junko is willing to hand Byakuya over.”

Kyoko and Makoto both shared looks of disbelief. Both knew it was too good to be true. It had to be a trap, or have a catch. Before they could vocalize that, Komaru confirmed it.

“One catch. It’s a trade. We’ll give you President Byakuya... for Kyoko.” Komaru began to laugh as both were stricken with shocked looks. Before they could react Komaru, thanks to her training from the Ultimate Soldier, pulled a taser out from her breasts and tased Kirigiri. The detective’s muscles stiffed and shook before she dropped to the floor. Before Makoto could come to her defense Komaru had leaped into action, swiping Kirigiri’s handgun. She closed the distance between herself and her brother, her face centimeters away from his own, the gun to his head. He quivered and whimpered, scared of his little sister, but didn’t back down. To his horror he felt her hand slide its way down into his shorts, her soft, delicate fingers wrapping themselves around his flaccid dick. She began to play with it, trying to masturbate it to full length, all while staring him dead in the eye.

“You know, Makoto, I’ve heard about what you ‘ultimates’ got up. Did you ever imagine this? Did you ever imagine your innocent little sister’s hand around your cock, her looking you dead in the eye as she plays with you? I know you’re as kinky as the rest of them, as we are. Did you ever dream about me? About being my first, whether I wanted it or not? Forcing me to the ground at gunpoint? Forcing yourself inside me? I bet you did. I bet you jerked off to thoughts of raping me more than you ever have fucked Kyoko. Do you imagine it’s me when you’re with her? Do you imagine me how I was when they took me those years ago?” Makoto was horrified by her remarks, horrified by the implication that he would ever do something like that to his baby sister. Against his will however his body responded to the physical stimulation, his dick hardening in his sister’s hand. He tried to respond, tried to deny her demented accusations, but he couldn’t form the words. She instead spoke more. “Look at that. Your body is telling me all I need to know. Aww, are you horny big brother? You know, Toko always said I had a big brother complex. I guess she was right, but then again, you’ve clearly got a little sister complex too. How about I blow your mind?” He flinched at these last words, terrified that the gun would go off. However, instead it was taken away from his head. Komaru placed it against her own and fired, blasting her brains and pieces of her skull all over the room, including on the horrified face of her big brother. Her dead hand clenched on his dick and he vomited on her corpse.

The Mid-90s

Caroline Johnson’s high heels loudly clacked against the hard floors of the Aperture Science Enrichment Center. Employees of all stripes scattered out of the hallway as she marched her way to her destination, a singleminded determination not dissimilar to some of their most successful test subjects. The “target” had been acquired, and she wanted to receive the report on its status in person. It was, after all, key to numerous experiments they had planned, and those experiments were vital to the survival of Aperture Science. Doors opened automatically at her presence, as if the building itself feared her. Progress on the Izuru Kamakura project would continue, but in the meantime Aperture would work on their own plans for a superhuman. Black Mesa had gotten many advantages over them over the years, but this was the coup they needed.

She entered the lab, the scientists turning their heads in near-unison, except for the one in the center, who nearly raised hers. The ones on the computers quickly turned back to their work while the woman addressed her superior.

“Hello Ma’am. I hope your trip to Japan went well?” Caroline internally sighed at her subordinate’s question, but chose to humor the kinder, younger girl for now. She was one of the most talented members of their staff, an expert in genetic manipulation, specializing in enhancing already-born organisms.

“Quite. Everything is going as planned, Andrea. How is the subject?” Caroline walked over to the incubator in the center of the room. Inside was an infant, a baby girl with dark black hair and tan skin. Caroline didn’t fully understand the exact science behind why they needed someone with XX chromosomes and Japanese heritage, but nonetheless the science had determined it was the way to go. She tapped her long red nails on the plexiglass container and the infant looked up at her, a small smile on her face. Caroline smiled back.

“Perfectly. It’s exceeded all of our expectations. Have you decided on what you would like us to do first?” The scientist looked down at the clipboard in her hand, a pen tied to it.

“Yes, I believe I have. I would like you to attempt the intelligence modification and durability modification first. Make sure to back up her genetic code, however. These things don’t grow on trees.” Caroline stood in thought for a moment.

“Yes ma’am. Anything else?” Andrea said.

“Yes, I believe we should name the subject, and raise her within the facility. It’ll do no good to have an emotionally broken test subject for the purposes of this experiment. We cannot mess with too many variables at once.” Caroline placed her briefcase on the incubator, the infant attempting to reach for it. She removed a notebook and began scanning it.

“Yes ma’am. I’ll make sure the experimental guidelines are updated immediately. Did you have a name in mind for her?” Andrea looked eager, perhaps a bit surprised. She ran her hand through her tied back red hair, a small smile on her lips.

“Chell. I think we’ll call her Chell.” Caroline put her notebook in the briefcase and closed it, giving a small wave to the baby as she left. “Let me know when the procedure is done. I wish to test the results personally.

Chapter Text

Prior to Komaru’s Extreme Adventures, inside Aperture Science

Chell had been lying in the drab room she had awoken in for an unknowable amount of time, boredom and her own thoughts her only companions. GLaDOS had left her here after their rather awkward encounter and had yet to return. She was uncertain what to think or feel. On one hand, she had gone through some horrific experiences at Aperture Science, and had the scars to show for it. On the other hand, she was undeniably attracted to the AI, and had been from the start, although she had been unable to truly explain her emotions to herself before due to her lack of anything approaching a formal education on the subject. It was only with time that she had grown to understand her emotions better, but doing so had been even more difficult due to the conflicting feelings within her. GLaDOS had undeniably tried to murder her. Repeatedly. And yet, they were both attracted to each other. Even in her completely warped conception of “normal”, this was hardly a normal bond or start to a relationship. GLaDOS’s completely failed efforts at courting her when she had been captured had at first enraged and disgusted her, and yet now she couldn’t help but look at them with a sort of amusement. GLaDOS was a godlike cybernetic being, a lifeform devoid of organic life that held more power than anyone or anything on Earth, but when it came to matters of the heart (and genitals), she was little more than an awkward virgin dealing with her first crush. Her entire interaction with the human race had been in forms of torture, murder, and force, so it was to be expected that she would have absolutely no idea what “consent” was, nor the proper way to initiate anything. Despite the fact that GLaDOS had transcended humanity, she still had to deal with the same consequences of a lack of information that anyone else would have. It was humanizing, and only made her more endearing. Seeing a vulnerable side of GLaDOS had at first felt like comeuppance, back when GLaDOS first was forced into her potato, but over time it had allowed the bond between them to truly grow. She was happy that had continued.

The door suddenly opened again, this time with GLaDOS carrying a large covered tray, powerful scents coming from it. A cube dropped from the ceiling at the side of the bed, along with a chair next to it, causing Chell to jump. GLaDOS smiled at the reflexive action, and placed the tray on the cube before sitting next to it. She pulled the cover off, revealing that the scents were in fact a delicious-looking ham steak and a loaded baked potato.

“Holy shit, you can cook?” Chell said, excitement on her face. She actually couldn’t remember the last time she had eaten, but it had been a while.

“Of course. It’s clearly an advantage, considering what appears to be your favorite activity.” GLaDOS’s emotional expressions had been dialed back somewhat since their last encounter, enough that Chell couldn’t entirely determine if the remark had been intended as playful or hurtful. She decided to give the android the benefit of the doubt.

“Well, thank you. I’m starving.” Chell dug in as GLaDOS watched. She demolished her food, barely taking time to savor it. Midway through she asked GLaDOS for a drink, causing numerous cans of Aperture Soda to rain down from the ceiling. GLaDOS provided her one, which she excitedly drank. It was far better than she had feared, tasting somehow both of orange soda and a blue raspberry flavor at the same time, and yet the flavors somehow worked together. She only briefly wondered what sort of terrible effects on her genetic code the drink would have. Near the end of the meal she paused and looked to her captor and object of attraction.

“Hey, where did you even get this? Raising pigs doesn’t seem to be something you’d care about.” Chell said, taking another bite of the ham steak. “It’s sweeter than usual too. I love it!”

“Oh, it’s not pig. I made it from the remains of Komaru Naegi. Well, a clone.” Chell spat out the food in her mouth, all over GLaDOS, who wiped it off with a powerful frown.

You fed me Komaru?!” Chell screamed, her bafflement only equaled by her horror.

“Miss Naegi said that it would be a delicious feast, so I believed you would enjoy it. Is there something wrong?” GLaDOS legitimately looked confused.

“Wait, what?” Chell’s confusion was even more evident than GLaDOS’s.

“Enoshima and Ikusaba have cloned her numerous times, and they all have partaken in her flesh. They assured me it would be delicious, and I sampled some before I delivered it and agreed. She’s still alive, just not in that particular body.” GLaDOS explained, Chell’s confusion replaced by contemplative thought.

“Well… I do suppose then it’s ethically sourced. I’ve got so many more questions regarding that, but I guess they can wait for later. You said Komaru’s cool with this?” Chell said, hesitantly putting another bite on her fork.

“Yes, she was the one to suggest the usage of her meat.” GLaDOS said calmly.

“Well then, my complements to her and to the chef both.” Chell said before continuing to eat. Cannibalism had never been something she had intended to commit, but since nobody had actually technically died for it, it couldn’t be less ethical than any other meat, and she did enjoy meat. Plus, she had already eaten some, so it wasn’t like stopping would prevent her from being a cannibal, and since she couldn’t remember the vast majority of her life there was no guarantee that she hadn’t been one beforehand. GLaDOS meanwhile had blushed at her complement to “the chef”, which she knew Chell knew was herself. It wasn’t long from there before Chell finished her meal and fifth can of soda, but she was still hungry.

“Hey, do you have any more… Komaru meat?” Chell said, somewhat embarrassed considering the content of the question.

“Yes. I can make ‘bacon’, ‘sausage’, and even ‘pork chops’ from her if you would like.” GLaDOS said, a smile coming to her face. Chell actually was asking her for something. It was minor, but it was special.

“Holy shit, all of that sounds amazing. Oh hey, what about loaded potato skins? You know, with cheese and bacon?” Chell was still starving. She had been literally starving after all.

“Yes. If you would like, I can return soon with more food.” GLaDOS said, standing and taking the tray with her.

“Sure! But hey, could you get me some clothes? And a jumpsuit. I really hate those things.” Chell said, hoping she wasn’t asking for too much.

“A selection of clothing will be arriving soon. Try not to get crushed by it.” GLaDOS said as she left. Chell smiled and stared at the AI’s android ass as she walked. Minutes later a giant pile of clothing landed in one of the corners of the room from another pneumatic tube. It truly was amazing how convenient those things could be. She dug through the clothes, finding all sorts of styles and fashions, all of them perfectly sized to fit her. It wasn’t long before she found the perfect lazy-day clothing she had been looking for, consisting of a pair of black boxer briefs, red gym shorts, a black tanktop with the blue Aperture logo on it and a hair tie to put her hair back. She hopped back in bed and eagerly awaited her next meal. Perhaps living with GLaDOS wouldn’t be an issue, perhaps she could have a semi-normal life despite the weird circumstances, and not have to run, fight, and survive 24/7 at Aperture Science. She certainly hoped so. She felt more at home here than she ever had before. Before, at Aperture, she had felt like a rat in a cage. At Hope’s Peak, she felt like an oddity, an outsider allowed entry due to her strangeness, not an equal and a friend, at least not to most people. She never really felt loved. Wanted, yes. She had useful skills to contribute to the survivors, but being wanted wasn’t enough. Surviving and rebuilding a world she never even knew wasn’t desirable. Humanity had wrecked the world, and somehow she had become a part of the efforts to rebuild it. She didn’t even have a year’s worth of memories when that happened. She wanted to be happy, to relax, to not have massive responsibilities for her entire life. When she escaped Aperture, she had expected to be able to relax, and yet here she was, a captive because she was asked to fight in a war she never asked to join to save the remainder of a world she never knew. It wasn’t worth it. If she could just live with GLaDOS and be happy, why bother with all those other people?

Lost in her thoughts, she was startled into focus by GLaDOS’s return, as well as the smell of hot bacon and other meat. GLaDOS once again presented the tray to Chell and revealed it, at which point she had discovered quite the unique meal. GLaDOS had provided chili dogs made with Komaru sausage and Komaru bacon bits, as well as a side of Komaru bacon, and had mixed caramelized onions into the chili. She dug right in, savoring the amazing food, impressed by the AI’s culinary skills. She knew, just due to basic logic, that GLaDOS had gained such skill not via practice but pure technology, but nonetheless, she was reaping the rewards for it. The chili had just the right mix of spices, and the bacon was the most perfectly cooked and flavored she’d ever experienced in her short life. It was truly a euphoric meal, and she savored every bite as she ate her friend’s cloned flesh. By the time she had finished she was finally full, and she stood up and walked over to the sitting android, kissing her softly on the forehead, causing the older woman to blush, which came out vibrantly on her unnaturally pale artificial flesh.

“Thank you, GLaDOS. I loved it.” Chell said, looking deep into the AI’s red eyes. GLaDOS stared back at her and Chell leaned in, softly kissing GLaDOS, who kissed back with a matching intensity. Chell at first did so close-lipped, enjoying the feeling of the unnaturally cold lips against her own, the perfect artificial skin a perfect contrast to her own, running her hand against GLaDOS’s face, the inhumanity of the woman’s existence clear to the nerves in her hand. Chell opened her lips, teasing the older woman’s lips with her tongue, GLaDOS’s own lips parting to allow her entry, their tongues battling and intermingling. This continued for several minutes before GLaDOS stood, the kiss continuing. Before the AI could attempt to take action, Chell shoved her onto the bed, breaking the kiss.

“You know, you’re terrible at taking the lead, so I think I’ll do it instead.” Chell said, a cute smirk on her face. She pulled her top off and straddled GLaDOS’s artificial body, pulling off her top as well before planting kisses across GLaDOS’s jawline, slowly lowering to GLaDOS’s neck and then collarbone, kissing in a formation not dissimilar to the lines created when an autopsy is performed. However, rather than continuing the Y down to GLaDOS’s groin, Chell turned and kissed around the circumference of GLaDOS’s breasts, tracing infinity symbols around the two of them. After a few repetitions of this pattern she moved in on the right nipple, taking it into her mouth and lightly sucking on it, rubbing and flicking it with her tongue. GLaDOS moaned quietly in pleasure, causing Chell to pause and smile lightly before returning to her assault. She swapped back and forth between the two buds, causing the AI to pant and moan in a manner that Chell had never expected, but definitely had imagined.

She continued her Y formation downwards once more, and when her face met the top of GLaDOS’s pants she wrapped her skinny fingers around the waistband and lowered them, looking up and keeping eye contact with GLaDOS as she did so. A smirk appeared on her face once more, and when the bottoms were off she continued the kisses. Before she could get to GLaDOS’s artificial genitals however she once more deviated from her expected course, causing GLaDOS to release an indignant moan. She kissed across and along GLaDOS’s thighs, going back and forth once more between them, sometimes kissing the top of her artificial slit while between them, teasing the AI. Finally, when she could smell how intense GLaDOS’s arousal had become, she gave her partner’s entire sweet cunt a lick, GLaDOS caught completely off guard by the action. Chell giggled when GLaDOS moaned, and GLaDOS shot her an indignant glare that went unseen. Chell began to lick softly up and down, her tongue sliding between the folds, as GLaDOS released small noises of pleasure. She repeatedly licked GLaDOS’s clit, never giving it enough attention to maximize GLaDOS’s pleasure, teasing the newly minted humanoid. She dipped her tongue farther into GLaDOS, never keeping it in long enough for the woman’s liking, an intentional act of pleasurable denial.

GLaDOS considered taking matters into her own hands, but decided that allowing Chell to lead the experience was a much better plan, as Chell’s own comfort was essential for her ends. She writhed and moaned as Chell’s exploration of her wet cunt continued, the older woman’s legs tightening around Chell’s head. Chell’s focus on GLaDOS’s clit slowly increased with time, flicking away at the sensitive nub, sometimes taking it into the tips of her lips and sucking on it, rubbing the top with her tongue. GLaDOS moaned and bucked into her partner’s face, and Chell loved it. Chell suddenly changed her pace, rapidly assaulting her clit, licking her pussy and eating her out. The unexpected pleasure drove GLaDOS further into the arms of ecstasy, her lust only overshadowed by her mindless enjoyment of the experience. Finally they entered the final stretch, Chell now focusing the entirety of her oral efforts on GLaDOS’s clit as she slid two fingers inside her, pumping and twisting rapidly as her artificial hips bucked wildly, digging them into the walls of GLaDOS’s insides. GLaDOS finally hit the edge before being thrown right over it by the younger girl, cumming hard all over Chell’s bare face. Chell continued until GLaDOS’s body came to a rest, collapsing into the bed. Chell slid up to GLaDOS and kissed her softly, GLaDOS barely responding to the love. Chell snuggled up to her and held her as she came down from the orgasm, smiling all the while. She was at home, finally. 


Junko’s tantrum had only begun, and Mukuro knew that it wasn’t going to be sated any time soon. The genius model’s carefully constructed plan had been destroyed, and not in a way she had expected. This had been a completely unforeseen consequence, an outcome she had failed to predict. It was the sort of despair she relished, the sort of despair she would kill for, and Mukuro knew the flood of emotions within her sister would leave her even more unstable than usual. The sheer euphoria of the despair flooding her mind would leave her in a state of rage and ecstasy, the irritation combined with the pleasure a contradictory assault upon the blonde’s fragile mental state. Mukuro had seen this a thousand times before, seen people die and wish they were dead due to this. She herself had been spontaneously fucked more than once in these same circumstances, consent between Junko and her being an ongoing thing, something Mukuro would never revoke even if she truly could. She had had to avoid being killed even more times than that.

Komaru, on the other hand, did not have much experience with this. She had seen Junko in despair, seen the pleasure it brought her, but she had never seen Junko in a situation this intense. She had never seen Junko in a situation in which she was truly flooded with emotion, a situation not unlike her despair at the death of Mukuro or her despair at her failure at Hope’s Peak. So when, in one fluid motion, Junko grabbed the younger of her girlfriends and repeatedly plunged a knife Komaru was unaware Junko had into Komaru’s chest, she had completely failed to expect the reaction. She coughed, blood filling her lungs, and when the blood splattered not just on Junko’s face but on her clothes, Junko began plunging the knife more and more into Komaru, quickly stabbing her over 50 times before her brain could even lose consciousness from a lack of oxygen. Komaru collapsed to the ground, having cum right before she passed out and quickly died. Thankfully, Junko and Mukuro had since automated the Komaru cloning process, and so another one quickly replaced the dead one on the ground within a minute.

“Wow, Junko, are you okay?” the new Komaru asked.

“Okay? Okay?! I’m fucking fantastic! Just… fucking… fantastic!!” Junko was screaming, but did not appear to be as enraged as she was excited. Komaru turned to Mukuro, silently asking for an explanation.

“Junko will be fine. Her personality just gets a little… fragmented when she’s overwhelmed.” Mukuro said quietly to Komaru. It wasn’t quiet enough for Junko to not hear, however.  

“Oh, that’s what’s going on. I’d prefer it if people not analyze me in front of me.” Junko said, her voice now extremely downbeat. Komaru could swear she saw tears starting to fill Junko’s eyes.

“It’s okay, Junko! We’re here for you!” Komaru said, trying to comfort her girlfriend.

“But for how long?” Junko said, ignoring Komaru’s positivity.

“Geez, don’t focus on that. We’re practically immortal! Focus on the positives and it’ll all work out!” Komaru said, walking over to the sad blonde and giving her a hug. Surprisingly, Junko hugged her back.

“You’re right! I’ve got beautiful girlfriends, and the most advanced facility on Earth! Even if she’s escaped, it’ll work out!” Junko said cutely. Out of eyesight Mukuro rolled her eyes at the cute personality Junko now embodied. It was an action so contradictory to who she usually was, who she had always been, that a second later when she realized what she had done she found herself exceptionally confused and disturbed at her own actions. Sure, she had made sarcastic remarks back to Junko in the past, but outright irritation at her actions? Never. Mukuro filed this concern off to the side, more worried about her beloved sister than her own personal oddities. She didn’t even consider that Junko herself could be responsible for the changes in her personality. She certainly didn’t imagine that she was becoming more like her beautiful sister every day.

“That’s the spirit! Never give up and we can do anything!” Komaru said, still hugging the cuter-than-usual Junko Enoshima. None of them stopped to consider that Komaru’s advice and encouragement was essentially hope, or else Junko would have been especially bothered. Before the others could respond, Mukuro spoke.

“You know, I was wondering, where are GLaDOS and Chell? I thought we would have seen them by now.” Mukuro said, absentmindedly twirling a knife against her own arm, content that their girlfriend was doing fine at comforting Junko. Junko and Komaru ended the hug and Junko returned to usual.

“That’s a damn good question.” Junko said before virtually “yelling” out over the Aperture Science internal network for the older AI. Junko quickly got a response.

“Hello. I’m aware of the situation.” GLaDOS said. The AI twins internally sighed, irritated that their host had been watching and yet not helping nor even interjecting. “The Chiaki Nanami AI does not appear to intend to cause us harm, although she has taken control of several other Aperture Science facilities. None of these facilities can cause us harm, however.” This was a falsehood, but GLaDOS knew the intent of Chiaki, and knew that Chiaki did not intend to harm them. She, however, was concerned about what exactly Chiaki intended to do with several of the facilities, although she had willingly given control to the young AI out of curiosity. She however did not remove her own ability to override Chiaki’s commands, contrary to the beliefs of the youngest artificial intelligence. In that way, she was telling the truth about Chiaki’s inability to harm them, although only from a certain point of view. Still, the Obi-Wan excuse was enough for her.

“Well, what the fuck is she doing then?” Junko said, looking up at the ceiling out of reflex. She couldn’t help considering a voice over an intercom to be coming from “above” her even if technically she was inside of GLaDOS.

“I have asked, and she intends to generally follow your own plan for what she shall do. However, she has stated that she does not desire to do so under your oversight, as she says, and she requested that I quote this directly, ‘you’ve already killed me twice and you’re an egotistical cunt, and I just can’t work in such an environment’.” Junko’s emotions nearly overwhelmed her once more, but she took control of herself. On one hand, the entire usurpation of her control by her own creation, as well as her complete disrespect for her creator, was outright offensive to the brilliant woman. On the other hand, the sheer disrespect and despair Chiaki had shown her and brought her was downright erotic. If anyone ever realized how turned on this situation had made her, she would need to wipe their memories by any means necessary.

“Well, at least she’s making herself useful.” Junko said. “Now then: Muku, GLaDOS, I’ve finally perfected the ability for these bodies to get fucking wasted. The new bodies are waiting for us while the rest are updated. Komaru, I’ll have a tube grab you and send you to the party. G, you bringing your hot new piece?” Junko laughed, and despite none of them being able to see the older AI, even Komaru could tell that GLaDOS was embarrassed by Junko’s remark.

“I… I am.” They were all a little surprised to hear the hesitance in GLaDOS’s voice, and Junko began laughing harder.

“Girl, quit worrying so hard about it! I ain’t gonna steal your bitch. Mostly because you’d totally kick us out.” Junko said between her laughter, and they could all tell that GLaDOS’s embarrassment had only been intensified by the statement. Mukuro and Komaru were also quite well aware that that had been Junko’s intent from the start.

“You know, unlike you two, I’ve seen her naked too. She’s pretty damn cute. Definitely worth it.” Komaru said with a giggle. Mukuro’s jaw dropped slightly, while Junko’s laughter became even more maniacal. She had not expected such a lecherous and flirtatious remark from the youngest member of their outfit.

“Shut up!” GLaDOS said indignantly. This was the last straw for Mukuro, who joined her girlfriends in laughter. Before they even stopped laughing, both twins’ bodies went limp and dead, three tubes retrieving the incapacitated Komaru and inactive outdated bodies of her loves.


Hajime and Nagito were in the middle of a passionate nude makeout session when yet another knock on the door interrupted them. Both sighed and threw a blanket over themselves, a gesture they wouldn’t bother with if they knew it was one of their classmates, and told the interloper to come in. Rather than a familiar face, it was one of one of the many Future Foundation grunts onboard the ship.

“I’m sorry to interrupt sirs, but the captain told me that Mr. Hinata is needed and to bring him to him at once.” The man was somewhere around their age, perhaps a bit older, but much more muscular. Nonetheless, he looked intimidated, if not terrified, of the two nude young adults several feet away from him. Nagito laughed at this, amused by the awkward fear on the man’s face. Hajime rolled his eyes at his boyfriend’s rudeness to the stranger.

“I’ll be right up. I just need to get dressed.” He said, causing the soldier to blush.

“Do you need me to guide you there?” He asked.

“No, I know the layout.” Hajime said, and the man closed the door. It was one of the many, many benefits his former status as Izuru Kamakura had left him. Among the nearly bottomless list of talents he had gained, “Ultimate Naval Commander” was of course one of them. He knew the layouts of every ship on Earth, and could list every detail possible. If Future Foundation built a new type of ship, he’d be able to learn every detail within an hour. He threw on a random t-shirt and shorts, slipping on a comfortable pair of flip-flops. He had nearly godlike power and had been a lead figure in a terrorist organization because his alter was bored. He didn’t really care too much about what strangers thought about his appearance. Nagito playfully whined, but decided to stay in bed, and so Hajime kissed him goodbye before departing for the bridge.

Upon his arrival, he immediately sensed the tension in the room. Cutting to the chase he approached the captain and asked for an update on the situation. The man was in his 40s, and appeared to have seen better days. It was evident he had suffered multiple injuries in combat, his posture and way of moving showing that he had taken extensive damage to both of his legs. His left hand was lacking the pinky finger, and one eye clearly showed signs of diminished sight. His head was shaven, a salt-and-pepper beard and mustache combo being the only hair on his head besides his eyebrows. Hajime was impressed by the man’s body language, a strong, stubborn exterior that clearly was a reflection of his true self, having survived what he had and come out in the position he was in.

“You called for me?” He said, the captain showing no surprise over his informal attire.

“Yes, there appears to be a… situation. We’re hoping it’s a technical error, but all of our technicians have told us otherwise. We were hoping… well, we were hoping you could tell us they were wrong, but if not, you should be the first to know.” The man said, a solemn tone in his voice. “Our radar has picked up a missile incoming, although it doesn’t appear to be coming for us. We already mobilized fighters, but they can’t seem to find it even with exact coordinates.”

“Do you have video feed of the situation?” Hajime asked, worry covered by a strong command of stressful situations in his voice.

“Yes.” The video feed began to play on the viewscreen. Hajime watched for a short while in silence, before pointing.

“There! It’s cloaked!” He half-shouted, causing the bridge staff to gasp in shock. “You’ll have to shoot it down manually!”

“You heard him. Give it your best shot!” The captain ordered. The pilots all opened fire on the cloaked missile. Rather than expected results, their screens filled with red, the men screamed, and the feeds went dead.

“Fuck!” Hajime yelled. He knew what had happened, and didn’t need to hear some additional explanation. They were dead. All the pilots had been shot down in mere seconds.

“They’re dead.” The captain said.

“Where is that missile targeting?” Hajime said. He was afraid he already knew the answer. Junko never had patience for traitors.

“Jabberwock Island. I’m so sorry.” The captain said. They watched the radar in silence as the missile grew closer and closer to the island. Suddenly, the blip disappeared and the horizon grew blinding. When the apparent second sun disappeared, what remained was a mushroom cloud, rising from where the main island of Jabberwock Island was located. Hajime began to cry silently.

Chapter Text

Chiaki had barely gotten herself situated in her new dwelling when she began formulating her own plan. While her main directive was to distract Future Foundation in order to take the heat off the main group, she had been given minimal oversight and massive resources, and was quite excited by what she had been seeing. A full inventory of the facilities under her command hadn't taken long, and it was surprisingly easy not only to access schematics for all sorts of technology designed, planned and sometimes built by Aperture, as well as schematics they had stolen from numerous competitors over the years and schematics they had stolen from Future Foundation themselves. Between those terabytes of blueprints and the inventory on hand it wasn't long before she got a fun new plan in mind, one that would certainly hinder and slow Future Foundation. It would also, to their benefit, prevent some of the most capable people on Earth from interfering.

Construction was an efficient and effortless process with the massive complexes, and their interlinked nature via portals made transport a breeze. She almost felt disappointed with the ease at which her plan had begun. With the schematics available to her she began improving upon their designs, incorporating the best features available as well as some she personally had desired to add. Converting the control and display interface into a VR one hadn't been very difficult, nor had simplifying the control scheme to be able to fit onto a standard mouse-and-keyboard layout. After all, it wasn't like a missile was fundamentally that different from a spacecraft you had no intention of making a successful landing with.

The first addition to her missile was active camouflage. It wouldn't fool the naked eye when up close, but even a 720p video feed would be low enough quality that telling the difference between the surroundings and the missile feed would be enough to require an eagle's eye to see. She took the general design of the thermal discouragement beams and upped the output significantly. While this would inevitably destroy their systems within only a few discharges, the missile didn't need to be multuse. With the increased power, they could slice through military aircraft with little more than the click of a mouse. The guidance system was multilayered. The first layer was built using Aperture Science's own satellite array. The second was built via Future Foundation's, and the two were cross-referenced. The third was civilian GPS, allowing more specific city-based guidance, which she didn't intend to use in this situation, but it would always be useful if she did end up using.

The warhead meanwhile was designed to be both destructive and dirty. With the designs she used, the surrounding one hundred kilometer radius of the impact point would be irradiated beyond all possible survival for human life. Everything within the first 25 kilometers would be utterly incinerated. The blast would also release a large cloud of moon dust, which when combined with the radiation and ocean air would create a toxic cloud of death that would not only kill anyone breathing near the site, but would be blown in a predictable, but complex pattern, allowing for more chaotic despair to follow from it, as well as making the attack itself harder to cover up. Additionally, a portal device was implanted within the center of the nuclear missile. She wasn't exactly certain what detonating a device designed for dimensional manipulation would do, but she certainly would be interested in the aftereffects.

Within a few hours her nuke had finished construction. The nuclear materials had been acquired in perhaps the most absurd way possible, something that she realized the longer she was in Aperture's systems was the norm for the facility. One of the facilities under her command had, for inexplicable reasons, been entirely devoted to food science. Rather than having a normal amount of ovens with a normal power source, they had had over ten thousand ovens powered via a nuclear reactor. The rest of the facility was also powered by several more, but this one reactor had the sole job of powering ovens. The worst part was that all the ovens leaked radiation. Anything you baked with the nuclear ovens would in fact itself become nuclear. She discovered via curiously perusing the records of the facility that this had been an accidental side effect. The resulting baked goods were then repurposed for testing regarding the effects of radiation on test subjects, an experiment whose goal was apparently to "produce superheroes". Chiaki nearly screamed in shock, horror and irritation when she realized how insane and incompetent that entire plan was. She looked up who had ordered and approved it, and finding it was one "Cave Johnson" vowed to never engage in conversation with him if at all possible, assuming he wasn't dead. She was afraid that her mind would involuntarily kill itself out of sheer disgust.

Actually firing the nuke had been even more exciting than building it. When it launched, she had cheered, but quickly found the lack of cheers to go with her own surprisingly boring. In her previous life, isolation had been as easy for her as breathing. She didn't mind, even though she had enjoyed the company of others. Now, however, she couldn't stand it. Whatever had caused the change, she craved an audience for her actions. So, in the interest of that, she disabled the radar jammers for the missile just so people could watch its path before its inevitable success. She sat in the VR pod watching the bright blue sky for several minutes before numerous jets surrounded her, to which she had nearly squealed in glee over. When they opened fire, however, she swore and blasted them out of the sky. She was somewhat disappointed that they even tried, but she couldn't risk this. With her superior reflexes she was able to witness every inch of the island as she approached, watching as the missile slammed into the hard ground and the feed cut out. Her plan had succeeded. Her class was dead. Or so she thought. She was unaware that ten had already left the island.


It had been less than an hour after the combined forces of Aperture Science and Ultimate Despair had begun their party that they had received word of what had taken place upon Jabberwock Island. However, prior to that they had all been having quite the good time. Junko, Mukuro and GLaDOS had transferred themselves into Junko's improved bodies for them, bodies which could now, in tandem with new subroutines in their programming, metabolize alcohol and get their owners drunk in real time. The upgrade was especially unique for GLaDOS, who due to the limits once placed on her by the scientists of Aperture, as well as her own rejection of her former identity of Caroline, had no memory of alcohol intoxication. For Mukuro it was a rather interesting but unimportant addition, one she hadn't really been waiting for, but one she didn't mind taking advantage of. Junko on the other hand was ecstatic to be able to now get drunk once more. She had quite enjoyed doing so in life, and one of the things she missed most in her cybernetic second life was intoxication. This would also be the first time the majority of the group would be properly meeting Chell, who GLaDOS had convinced to join them. Chell was still uncertain about the rest of the Despair faction, having learned of the twins' deeds as a member of Future Foundation, but her attachment to GLaDOS made her willing to at least give GLaDOS's compatriots a chance. After all, while she had had some level of attachment to the others, she didn't truly ever feel like she had fit in in their world, feeling like an outsider from the moment she had been ousted from Aperture Science.

The room itself was yet another converted test chamber, decorated with party supplies Junko had discovered in the storage of Aperture Science. Colorful streamers decorated the square room, and the tables were covered with red plastic. The tables themselves lined the room, each one being a large array of foods and drinks. Alcohol, various meat dishes, desserts, and even a large platter of Aperture Soda were carefully arranged for the assembled women to enjoy. Additionally, there was a large sound system near one corner of the room, allowing Junko to play her favorite music. Mukuro was used to her eclectic tastes, but at times the other assembled members of the group would cringe at the utterly brutal segues. Out of all the despairful events Junko had been behind, transitioning Shining to Marina and the Diamonds was perhaps one of the cruelest and most brutal in her multiple lives. If musical whiplash could cause physical injury, they would have all broken their necks.

The party had begun quite well, the assembled group socializing. Chell had discovered Junko to be a far more interesting conversational partner than she had previously imagined. Junko could discuss any subject with her at length, astounding the former test subject and research head with her expertise on all things possible. The more she talked with Junko, the more she found herself understanding Junko's intense boredom. She had also been astounded by Komaru's rapid change in personality. The explanation for what had happened to create the new Komaru astounded her even further, as she had hardly imagined such a thing to have happened in the relatively short time they had been at Aperture. However, she found herself still enjoying time with the darker Komaru, and so wasn't too bothered by the transformation. They had only barely known each other, and so she wasn't as privy to the full intensity of the changes Komaru had undergone. Besides, if she could accept a serial killer, why not mass murderers? She didn't see the validity behind judging people who came from a world she had no intrinsic attachment to. That world didn't produce her as she was now, it didn't mold her, and it didn't actually save her. Future Foundation had ignored Aperture Science, and hundreds of test subjects had died because of it. Chell was her own savior, and her loyalty was only owed to herself. Anyone else she decided to trust was her decision, not theirs. She also thought Komaru's childish glee when she was told how delicious her flesh was was absolutely adorable. It wasn't the sort of complement she had ever expected to give someone, and yet Komaru was perhaps the best meal she had ever had in her short life. The fact it had been her first proper "date" with GLaDOS had made it even more special.

Socializing with Mukuro had been harder than socializing with her sister and partner. She hadn't expected to have much conversation with Mukuro, but Mukuro had been interested in Chell for two things: Chell's adaptability in high stress situations and sheer durability. Mukuro had studied the details of Chell's time as a test subject for Aperture Science, and the math confused her. Not that it wasn't all easy to follow, but that Chell had survived at all. The high-speed acrobatics and puzzle solving she was required to do should have been nearly impossible for a human being to accomplish without food or water for as long as she had been deprived of it. The amount of bullets, even ones propelled by something other than gunpowder, that Chell had survived shouldn't have been possible. The amount of blood lost should have incapacitated a normal human being. Of course, Mukuro had little in the way of social skills, especially with new people, and so she had accidentally summed up all her questions in the succinct but impolite manner of asking "What are you?"

Chell nearly choked on her drink at the remark, more shocked than offended. Mukuro however apologized awkwardly, scratching the back of her head as she backed up and hunched slightly.

"It's fine, I just was not expecting that." Chell said with an awkward laugh. Mukuro awkwardly laughed back, and the two looked at each other in silence for several seconds. Both GLaDOS and Junko immediately could tell their girlfriends were attracted to each other, which was hilarious to the both of them. Junko had immediately began knocking back drinks as soon as she arrived, and it didn't take long for her to goad GLaDOS into the same thing, which led to the two AI women being far drunker than anyone else at the party. The two whispered comments about their accidental show, comments that neither Mukuro nor Chell noticed. Komaru meanwhile was busy eating some delicious pigs in a blanket made from herself.

"Well. as far as I know, I'm just a person. But, I can't remember anything before this place." Chell continued.

"You're certainly a person, but you're definitely not just that. You're unstoppable." Mukuro had not been able to access the full files on Chell's origins, as that was kept off the main server for fear of being stolen by a jealous party.

"Ha, thanks. Well, that certainly means a lot coming from you." Chell gave an awkward smile and Mukuro returned it, both of them downing their drinks trying to avoid conversation with the cute girl in front of them.

"Let me get that!" Both said in unison, and GLaDOS and Junko were unable to contain their amusement. The two began to laugh in reaction to the girls' awkwardness. Mukuro and Chell blushed intensely and both headed off to the drinks to find more to drink. That was when the three AIs received the alert as to what had happened.

The first to speak was Junko. "What the fuck?! What the fuck?! What the fuck?!" Her language, while colorful yet ultimately summed up her entire reaction to the event. Junko hadn't intended for such a drastic measure to be taken, and yet someone launched a nuclear attack from Aperture Science. She turned to GLaDOS.

"Did you do this shit?! Why the fuck would you do this? Since when did your science-obsessed ass even care about my stupid former followers?!" Junko threw her drink to the side, immediately regretting the dramatic decision.

"Of course not. I'm not so rash as to do something completely idiotic like that, unlike a certain blonde AI. I never attempted to end the world, after all." GLaDOS struck back, any sort of self-control inhibited by the drunkenness.

"What did you fucking say to me, bitch?! Say that shit again! I fucking dare you!" Junko screamed, rapidly getting up in GLaDOS's face. Mukuro raced to break them up, but was shoved across the room by both.

"I told you, it wasn't me. I would much sooner expect something completely idiotic like this from you, but if it was neither of us than there's only one explanation. It was Chiaki." GLaDOS attempted to stay calm, but seriously wanted to choke the bitch in her face.

"Are you fucking kidding me? You told me she didn't have that kind of firepower!" Junko screamed, artificial spit flying into GLaDOS's face. Komaru and Chell rushed over against their better judgment.

"No, I told you she couldn't harm us. She still can't. We have failsafes that prevent targeting our own facilities." GLaDOS still was doing a remarkably good job at not descending into the same rage that had overtaken her younger counterpart.

"So you're telling me she has nuclear fucking weapons and you didn't think to inform me? Fuck!" Junko swung for GLaDOS, who effortlessly dodged it and stomped into Junko's knee, bringing the model to a kneeling position.

"I do not work for you. I do not obey you. I do not have to listen to you. If you attempt to strike me again, I will make sure you regret it for the next ten thousand years." GLaDOS's tone became much more threatening with these words. "Furthermore, I also neglected to inform you I was the one that freed her. You do not have permission to do whatever you want, fail to inform me, and expect me to approve and go along with whatever idiotic plans you have. If you're going to create a new AI, you had better tell me in advance. We are too powerful for a petty, chaotic moron such as yourself to do so whenever you want. Do we understand each other?" GLaDOS looked down, both physically and metaphorically, at Junko. Junko looked like she was about to explode.

"Fuck you! You barely managed to survive getting overthrown by an AI designed to be stupid! You got turned into a potato! You needed her to save you!" Junko screamed, gesturing at Chell while standing back up. Chell threw her hands up in the universal "keep me out of this" gesture.

"And you managed to get killed by a child who doesn't understand how a hairbrush works." GLaDOS retorted.

"You've got more weaponry than the average nation and you sit here wasting it and running pointless experiments because the people you killed told you to! You're pathetic! Live for yourself, you idiotic robot!" Junko swung for GLaDOS, who dodged it and went to strike her back. Before her fist could even connect, however, Mukuro had her in an arm bar, the metallic skeleton audibly bending in response to the hold.

"If you lay a hand on her, this entire facility will be under our control within an hour. I will personally ensure you are trapped in an artificial hell. Do I make myself clear?" Mukuro said, her voice deadly calm against GLaDOS's ear. Before she had a chance to reply, Junko struck her in the gut several times before sauntering off.

GLaDOS considered the ways she could strike back, but decided against it. She had been killed once before, and if Junko and Mukuro were able to do it, and they were, she wasn't risking it again. The hell she experienced was nothing if not maddening. "Yes. Now, let go of me."

Mukuro released the older AI. GLaDOS turned to her, and Mukuro spoke. "Now, there's nothing you can do to fix this. You fucked up. Take some time away from her, or else it'll only get worse. If you even think of trying anything, I will be there. Understood?"

"Yes." GLaDOS's pride was wounded. She headed for the opposite room while Mukuro looked to Junko, who had already begun selecting a new drink. Mukuro made a quick trip to a table far from both and then headed over to Junko.

Junko chugged her new drink and turned to Mukuro, who had come over to check on her, carrying a large plate of sweets for herself and her sister.

"Hey sis, are you okay?" Mukuro said, a nervous note in her throat.

"Yeah, I'm fucking fine. It's not like someone stole my project and let her kill my toys without asking." Junko said, sarcasm dripping from her voice.

"It's okay. We still have plenty to play with. Besides, I've been watching Future Foundation's communications. They'd already picked up ten of them quite a few hours before the blast." Junko's mood immediately improved at this statement.

"Is Izuru okay?" Junko asked. Mukuro made a mental note of Junko's tone and speed at which she had asked. On anyone else, she might have even called it hope.

"Yes, he's fine. None of the important ones were left behind, other than Ryota." Mukuro said before biting into a brownie on her plate.

"Ahh, fuck him. Brainwashing anime? Laaaaaaaaame! I mean seriously, it saved me some time but it was so fucking boring! Mukuro, if I ever suggest we use something that stupid again, make sure I don't have a virus making me as stupid and unimaginative as you, okay?" Junko chuckled at her own joke. To Mukuro, it had been an absurdist insult. Junko knew how possible it really was.

"Yes, Junko, of course." Mukuro said, a blush covering her face and her mouth full of delicious chocolate.

"Good. I mean honestly, did I hit my head when I thought of that?" Junko's question was rhetorical, but Mukuro couldn't help but answer. 

"You did, remember? I thought you were in a coma." Mukuro said, swallowing her brownie.

"Shut up, Muku. You're here to look cute and serve me, not think. You're not even good at that first job." Junko smiled, and Mukuro blushed harder.


Hajime nearly broke at the sight alone of the detonation. The sheer horror at seeing his home destroyed, even from such a distance, was almost too much despair for him to handle. He had seen despair. He had created despair. But this? This was so much worse for him. Without a word to anyone, without so much as a request or an order, he fled the bridge. He ran mindlessly, finally ending up on deck, where he climbed and climbed, until he found himself within a birds' nest location high above the rest of the ship. He wanted to be alone. He needed to be alone. His mind was too loud, too overwhelmed to be around anyone. He couldn't handle it. He couldn't support them right now. He had failed them. He had promised to protect them. He had promised to protect all of them, and he had failed. He couldn't be the hero he was pretending to be. He wasn't Hope, he was just a man, just a normal man in extraordinary situations.

"No, you can't do it. Of course you can't. You may have all the talents, but you are still only Hajime Hinata." Hajime jumped in fright, looking for the unseen origin of the voice.

"What makes you think the voice is coming from outside? Logic dictates that that is impossible. You would have been aware of anyone approaching. You would have been aware of anyone here. There is no communications system for those below to contact us." The voice seemed bored, and yet condescending. Hajime wanted to answer with a rebuttal, but was at a loss for words.

"You failed to protect them because such an endeavor was always doomed to fail. Those deemed exceptional in life rarely die in unexceptional ways, and your friends were no different. Furthermore, it's only via sheer luck, another talent you have inherited, that anyone survived at all. Had you left even a day later all of us would  be dead." Hajime was even further broken by the words. He couldn't argue with them, couldn't refute them, but only agree with them. It was then that he realized who was talking.

"Izuru? But how?" Hajime asked.

"Did you think I could be erased when you could not? And, had I been erased, or combined with you, do you believe you would be yourself but with my talents? Of course not. I am as intrinsic to the continued existence of this body as you are. A consciousness cannot be erased so easily. The mind will always remember. Did you think your return was an accident? A malfunction?" Izuru's calm voice echoed within their shared head, filling Hajime's senses. He couldn't believe what was going on. His friends were dead. Izuru was alive. Jabberwock was destroyed.

"It wasn't?! But why?!" Hajime shouted to himself when he realized the implication of Izuru's words.

"Of course not. I would not have allowed myself to be erased in favor of you, nor could I have made such a foolish miscalculation. Hope has still yet to defeat despair, and I knew it would not end there. Despair has still yet to defeat hope, and the war still burns. Neither proved themselves able to win, and you yourself were instrumental in preventing hope's success. I knew you would be an invaluable player for hope, given the chance and talents, and so made sure you would be able to return. The deck was... stacked for despair, and such an unfair advantage would be nothing short of boring." Hajime was horrified by the revelation. Izuru had planned for him to return? Had planned for him to prevent the hope brainwashing signal? This was just all a part of Izuru and Junko's sick game to prove that despair was superior to hope?

"No, that's wrong! I'm not just your pawn, and that wasn't hope! Brainwashing isn't hope! It's just despair with a painted on smile! I'm not just your pawn, I'm my own person, and I fight for hope not to amuse you, but to protect those I care about, and the future of humanity! Humanity deserves to have a future! There's evil, yes. There's unforgivable monsters, like the men and women who created you, but that doesn't mean they're all guilty! There are people that are good! People who deserve to live! People who have never harmed the innocent, and deserve in turn not to be harmed!" Hajime's hope returned to him, his strength redoubling. "I fight for all of humanity! Hope and despair aren't why we fight, but because Junko Enoshima wants to harm those that just want to live their lives in peace! If you plan on taking over and working for her, I will stop you!" Hajime climbed the edge of the bird's nest and prepared to make the ultimate sacrifice.

"Hinata, you misunderstand my intentions. While you may have my talents, you cannot use them the way I do, as fluidly and naturally. I do not plan to fight for either side. I plan to watch, to simply observe. If I wanted, I would have taken over a long time ago. That, however, would deprive me of a true war between hope and despair, and without that, I cannot know which deserves victory. I will not get involved in this battle, for you or her. I will watch." Hajime's breath slowed at this revelation, his fear subsiding. He climbed down and collapsed against the short wall he had stood on seconds previously.

"Okay, fine. I'll prove to you that hope will triumph, and that you should never think you've predicted what it can do!" His posture and position didn't match his gusto, but it was enough for Izuru. He was looking forward to this war. Hajime however was nervous. It felt like he was being watched, and not just by his apathetic alter. He could swear he heard someone laughing over the still-dissipating cloud in the distance.

"Izuru, do you feel that? Something feels... wrong." Hajime said, hoping that Izuru felt it too.

"Yes, but it is of no concern to you. All will be revealed with time. Worrying about that which you cannot control is pointless. That's how your friends became despairs in the first place. Attempting to stop Junko Enoshima was pointless, but they tried. Instead, they became her most powerful weapons. Now it's happening again. You cannot triumph over her with brute force. She is too smart for that." Izuru said.

"You know, for an impartial observer, you certainly praise her a lot. Plus it's not like you were ever helpful before. How can I know I can trust you?" Hajime asked.

"You cannot. However, had I sought to bring victory for despair, Future Foundation would have been destroyed years ago. I have helped before. I gave them you. That was the best weapon I could provide them, given the increasing danger Junko Enoshima poses. I did not fight for her. When I did fight, it was only to enable this war to continue. I wish to see which wins, not who has more powerful forces or more effective weaponry. Ultimately, your ideologies are what must fight, not yourselves. Until you prove hope more powerful than despair, you cannot win. Until she proves despair more powerful than hope, she cannot win. If neither of you can succeed, all of humanity will die." Izuru's tone was as calm as ever, even when talking about the end of all life on Earth.

"How can you not care about that? You're human too!" Hajime was upset by Izuru's apathy, but this was unsurprising to his alter.

"I am far beyond human. I am a creation of humanity, using humanity, but I have far transcended humanity. I cannot exist in nature. I am a creation, no different than an AI myself. The only difference between an AI and myself is the operating system we run on. You are human, but with all talents. I am beyond that. I do not care because it is of no consequence to me if humanity lives or dies. If humanity wipes itself out, other species will evolve and take over. If humanity doesn't, their future is ensured. If despair wins or neither do, humanity has shown that it has no chance of survival." Izuru almost seemed to yawn, leaving Hajime confused as to how that was possible. It wasn't like this came with a manual. He also couldn't quite argue with Izuru's logic, but he hoped that hope itself would prove humanity's worth.  

"Well, I believe in hope. I believe that humanity can overcome despair. We've made it this far, and we've overcome Junko's plans before. We can do it again!" Hajime said. To this, Izuru was silent.


Makoto Naegi received word of the events mere minutes after they had happened. Once more he was forced to admit that somehow his life had become even worse. He was grateful that the ten they had recruited had already been picked up, but unlike some, he couldn't overlook the loss of life. He hadn't been close to them, but the concept of Junko Enoshima possessing nuclear weaponry horrified him. Such a thing was nearly unimaginable. She had been holding back. She could have killed them all at any time and she was holding back. Any action he took, any decision he made, he had to consider this fact now. She had the upper hand.

"Makoto, we have to do it." Kyoko said, interrupting his train of thought. He was silent for a minute, trying to remember exactly what she was referring to. The sheer amount of details he had to sift through recently was overwhelming, too overwhelming for him to properly sort. He finally realized what she meant and yelled in horror.

"No! We can't just hand you over to them!" Makoto said insistently.

"We have to. We cannot afford to not play her games now, knowing what she has access to. It's too dangerous. If Junko were to decide to use the weapons and forces she has, we would have no chance of winning. We both know that. I can handle myself, but I'm not much use in leading an organization into war. Togami is. You need him. We need him. Humanity needs him. The only way for us to get him back is for me to go to them. You have to accept this." Kyoko's tone was calm, yet passionate, and deep down Makoto knew she was right. He didn't want to accept it, however.

"Kyoko, I can't just give you to them! Think about what could happen to you!" He was scared. He loved her. She was the only person he had left. He couldn't imagine being without her, not now. He couldn't imagine being alone, being without her support, not when things had gotten this bad.

"I know what can happen. I know how dangerous it is. But we have to prioritize everyone else over ourselves. I cannot sit back out of fear when I can do something to help." Kyoko placed a hand on his shoulder. "Please, trust me Makoto." She looked into his eyes, and he looked back into hers, and he accepted the inevitable.

"Okay, I will. But we're going to save you! I promise!" Kyoko smiled a sad smile, love in her eyes and a burning mix of hope and despair in her heart. She believed he believed in his words. She knew he would never give up on her. But, she also knew how unlikely it was. She didn't believe his words. She knew he would try, but she also knew he would probably fail. But, if that's what it took to protect him, it was what was needed to be done. He had once been willing to die for her. She owed him her life, and it was a debt she could never repay, not in her eyes. He had trusted her without knowing her plan. He was willing to die for her without even knowing what he would be dying for. She could never repay that level of dedication.

"I know, Makoto. Still, we should plan for the worst." She said before giving him a kiss.

"You mean..." He trailed off.

"Yes. We should get married before the trade. If nothing else, I want us to be able to say we did that before something happens." Kyoko smiled again, this time more powerfully.

"Me too. So, when should we do it?" Makoto returned her smile.

"Tomorrow." She said matter-of-factly.

"Tomorrow?! But... that's so sudden!" Makoto looked like his eyes were about to bug out of his head.

"Yes, but we need to agree to this trade soon, and most people we would invite are either dead or currently captured. Your best man, for example." Kyoko said, and Makoto couldn't disagree. Their parents were dead, his sister was insane, Byakuya was captured, the remaining Remnants weren't exactly going to be in a wedding mood, and several other guests were also captured.

"So, just a private ceremony for the two of us?" Makoto asked.

"Yes, that seems best. Besides, if we invited people, they'd want to know why we've moved it up." Kyoko said dryly.

"Well then, since we are basically in charge of the entire planet right now, do you Kyoko Kirigiri take Makoto Naegi as your lawfully wedded husband?" Makoto said with a playful smile. Kyoko giggled at the idea, but was happy with it, and though it exceptionally adorable. Perfectly fitting for him.

"I do. Do you Makoto Naegi take Kyoko Kirigiri as your lawfully wedded wife?" She said with a smirk.

"I do. I now pronounce you wife and husband. We may kiss." He said, laughing as he messed up the lines. They kissed passionately, a loving embrace of trust and hope. Neither was convinced they would survive this, but both had hope they would. Both had hope they would be together again. Both believed in each other, and in their love. The kiss was soft, yet alight with love. Their mouths did not battle, but rather intertwined, becoming one as they had. They were in love, and it would protect them, or so they hoped.


The members of the former Remnants of Despair gathered on the bridge. They had been told that they needed to be informed of something, but they had not been told what it was. They were all in various forms of casualwear, not expecting to really need to go anywhere or look formal at the time. The setting sun on the horizon was dulled by the glass of the bridge, which darkened as needed. The captain approached their group.

"We regret to inform you that approximately twenty minutes previously, Jabberwock Island was destroyed with a nuclear weapon. We had hoped to have your leader inform you of this himself, but he has isolated himself." The group let out various gasps and outbursts of shock and horror. Several, including Ibuki and Mikan, began to cry for their lost friends. Surprisingly, it was Nagito who took charge of the situation.

"Friends, I know how hard this is, but we have to keep up hope. We cannot give into despair, not again. That's what she would want. That's what got us here. We cannot allow despair to control us. We have to maintain hope, and we have to maintain our strength. Humanity needs us. Humanity is relying on us. We have to be their saviors. We have to bring them hope, and show them that hope will always triumph over despair. We can weep for our friends, but we cannot allow it to consume us. We must fight on, for all their sakes." Nagito impressed even himself. Hajime's skill at giving speeches had rubbed off on him apparently. The assembled group smiled somewhat at his words, but had little to say. Still, there was a murmur of agreement, and that was enough for him. They needed time to mourn. Nobody, not even himself, could get over such a loss so fast. He was hiding it right now, hiding his own pain and despair, his own fear for the future, but only because Hajime wasn't around. The moment he was he would need to open up, to let his own sadness pour out. Right now, however, he needed to be strong for them, because that's what Hajime needed. That's what hope needed.

"We're going to get that bitch, goddammit! For all of our friends!" That was Kuzuryuu, and Peko nodded in agreement.

"We shall show them the wrath that one reaps when you declare war on the Supreme Overlord of Ice!" Gundham was, of course, the one to shout that out.

"Novoselic may be no more, but I am still its rightful leader, and we will restore the honor to the land!" Sonia was in high spirits despite their situation. Souda nodded along with her comment, causing Nagitio to sigh internally.

"Ibuku is all fired up after all this! We're going to melt their damn faces!" The comment's source was obvious and predictable, but the slap on the ass she gave Mikan was not. Mikan squealed in embarrassment, but smiled widely afterwards, giving Ibuki a playful wink.

The group dispersed, few questions asked. They knew the how and why, and they all knew they were lucky to be alive. They were brave, strong and had each other. They would make it through this. They returned to their quarters to grieve in their own way, with the support of their closest. Nagito walked into what he expected to be an empty room, but Hajime was there. He could tell something was off however. Hajime looked... stiffer than usual. More uncomfortable with his own humanity.

"Ah, hello Hajime. I see you're no longer alone." He said, hoping his boyfriend was still at least in control.

"Hey, Nagito. You're really perceptive. So, you've heard the news." His tone was downcast, but not full of despair. Nagito let out a breath he had been holding without even realizing it.

"Yes, I'm afraid I have. Tell me, do we have anything to fear from him?" Nagito asked, his voice barely betraying his worry.

"No, but it is rude to speak about someone like they are not present when they are." Izuru replied out loud. Nagito jumped slightly.

"Well, that's going to take some getting used to. Hajime, are you okay?" Nagito said, approaching him from behind and enveloping him in a hug. Hajime stayed still.

"No. No, I'm not. They're dead. They're dead, Nagito, and I could have stopped it! If they had just come with us, they'd still be alive! But I thought it was safer for them there! I told them to stay! I told them they'd be okay! It's my fault Nagito!" Hajime broke down crying, and Nagito guided him to the bed.

"No, it's not. It's her fault. Junko made her decision, and Junko killed them. Not you. You did everything you could with the information you had. Don't lose hope. It's your most handsome feature." Nagito softly kissed Hajime's cheek, but Hajime continued to cry.

"If I had been there..." He trailed off.

"You would have died for nothing, and done nothing. You're powerful. You can't punch a missile out of the sky." Nagito said, chuckling at the mental image of Hajime doing such a thing.

"But..." Hajime said through his tears.

"No. You did everything you could. We'll avenge them, and we'll stop her. You can't lose hope of that." Nagito held Hajime as he cried.

"You're right." Hajime said. However, his tears didn't stop. They were joined by Nagito's own, and the two held each other as they cried, supporting one another in their grief. As their tears dried up, sleep overtook them, and they passed out, fully dressed, having shifted so that they were in each other's arms. They were going to make it through this, and they were going to do it together. 


Chiaki's afterglow from the annihilation of Jabberwock Island didn't last long. Her new AI form just got so bored so quickly without constant entertainment. And so, she began planning her own goal. She hated to admit it, but she rather liked the idea of a despair-centric television show. She was not, however, very impressed with what Junko and Komaru had designed for their own shows. They were brutality for brutality's sake. To her, true despair came from a loss that you felt you could have succeeded at. The strongest despair she had ever felt was not her own death, or suffering, but rather when a video game repeatedly kicked her ass no matter what methods she tried. She refused to give up, refused to cheat, and most certainly refused to take a break. To her, all of those were admitting defeat. She would go for hours upon hours just desperately trying to win, trying to master whatever difficult circumstance she had ended up in. To her, this was how she would bring despair. She would create this same feeling for humanity, and let others see it and feel it too.

So, she had the initial concept for it. Ultimately, it came down to a game. A game of wits, a game of survival, and a game of intelligence. There had to be a win condition. Without the offer of hope, how could it be true despair? Brutality certainly brought its own despair, but despair was an artform. If she was to maximize  the despair she was bringing with her program, she would have to offer her victims hope. Real hope. If they won, they could live. They could escape and go back to their boring lives, now a hero to humanity, a pillar of society worth respect. This would be the hope they would be offered. But she knew she would win her game. She wasn't going to cheat, she wasn't going to rig it. Rather, she was going to create the best video game she could, one in the real world, and she would be the mastermind. It was sort of Evil Genius meets Rollercoaster Tycoon, only with real people to kill. It would be a blast! Probably literally.

The initial design would be a maze. She couldn't help but be somewhat inspired by the initial appearance of The Riddler on Batman: The Animated Series. It was simply a good idea to use a maze for any sort of real life death game. It provided a compact yet large field, the chance for confusion and terror, ambushes, and plenty of places to hide traps and enemies. At the same time, it provided terrain that could be utilized by either side to gain an advantage, giving the players a fair chance. One of the few shooters she did like, the classic Marathon, used a confusing layout to great effect, and she was happy to emulate the feeling. She'd have to send them in armed, just for fairness's sake. Showing people who were given a fair chance and still lost was far more despairful than screwing over the helpless. She decided to copy over Future Foundation's stealthwear, as it would be both a functional combat uniform and quite effective at helping them survive attacks and traps. It would allow her to increase the danger without making it unfair. She was elated. She had always wanted to design a game, and now she was designing one with the best players ever: real people.

Chapter Text

The trip at sea had passed with little incident after the nuclear attack that destroyed Jabberwock Island. While the former Remnants of Despair were by no means jovial or carefree, considering their circumstances they were in fact in remarkably good spirits. They had attempted to return to living as best possible, trying to distract themselves from the six new holes in their hearts. They hadn't just been friends or classmates, they had been family. They had gone through hells that nobody else could relate to, seen things that nobody should ever have to see, and were guilty of some of the worst war crimes of human history, but this was not their fault. They knew that, of course, but it didn't stop the memories, the nightmares. Now they had a new burden to carry. Had they just brought all their friends, they would still be alive. Because they had decided that those six were not important enough to come along, they were now dead. They died because of their unimportance to the war effort. It was just as the Junko Enoshima AI had told them within the Neo World Program. They were side characters, disposable, not as important as their underclassmen. After all they had been through, they'd given their friends the same exact treatment. They had decided that they weren't important enough to bring along. Sure, it was an attempt to keep them safe, but ultimately it was the decision that lead to their deaths, not their survival.

Hajime had taken it especially hard, as he viewed himself as the leader and thus the one who ultimately was responsible for all the decisions. He had been distant, and when he was around, he was colder and more detached than usual. Those that had had the... experience of meeting Izuru Kamukura in their previous lives for longer periods of time couldn't help but feel the same exact aura radiating off him. It was unnerving, the sort of uneasy tension in the air that comes from knowing that in comparison you were inferior to the person in front of you. While Hajime had possessed all the talents of Izuru, he had never before had this aura to him, and they were all worried by the sudden change. Still, they all had their own ways of grieving, and unlike their unlucky underclassmen, they'd only ever lost one of their classmates, albeit  twice. Some of them had had families, friends in the world, but not all of them. For some of them, the end of the world was not the beginning of a miserable life, but the end of one. They had family now, people they could trust and count on. For those that had nothing but their class prior to the day Junko Enoshima stepped into their lives, they still had more than they had ever had before coming to Hope's Peak.

Independently, they all wondered about Hajime's background. He wasn't one to frequently discuss his life prior to Hope's Peak, and had stated before that there had been little to tell. Still, they couldn't help but wonder. They knew he came from a wealthy family, as he couldn't have been in the Reserve Course otherwise. They were aware of his being a transgender man, and were there enough people left alive to actually worry about the issue, they'd kick anyone's ass who had something negative to say about that. They knew his family was largely absent and apathetic to his life, primarily from his complete lack of discussion of them even when discussing his days at Hope's Peak. And, of course, they knew that out of all the reserve course students, he was the one chosen to become Izuru Kamukura. What they didn't know was "why?" They wondered just how many failed test subjects their formerly beloved school had tried and failed to transform before him. It couldn't have been too many, right? After all, the reserve course had aired pretty much every grievances  quite publically. If a suspicious number had gone missing, they couldn't have covered that up, especially with Junko Enoshima as Hope's Peak's personal Edward Snowden.

But, how did they know it would work? How did they know what to do to make it work? Logically such a process would have required testing, and yet none of them knew the details. The recent reveal of Aperture Science's involvement in both Hope's Peak and Ultimate Despair did give them one outlet of explanation. Most of them had never even heard of the company, but it was to their surprise Nagito who was able to inform them of Aperture's general modus operandi. The coincidence had been almost too absurd to believe, and had it been anyone other than Nagito Komaeda, they might have questioned it. However, considering his luck, it was actually quite unsurprising. His family had been involved in Aperture's Japanese operations, quite high up in fact. Mad science was apparently their forte, and he had even met some of the highest people in it as a young boy. So, the general conclusion the class had drawn was that the numerous test subjects prior to Hajime were in fact tested on by Aperture Science, and not recruited from Hope's Peak. None of them even imagined that there hadn't been test subjects for the project in years, and that Hajime wasn't just chosen, but was always intended for the project.

Of course, when they arrived in Japan, they were escorted in utter secrecy to Hope's Peak, their former home and the place that ended the world. None of them were ignorant to the irony of the situation, although at the same time none of them bothered to bring it up. It was at Hope's Peak that the meeting on the plans and intents of Future Foundation were first discussed with the class. It was at Hope's Peak that in a stunning twist for all but Makoto Naegi, who had become quite used to his life getting worse on a seemingly daily basis, things became even worse. It was also at Hope's Peak that Izuru Kamukura decided to stop being hidden, because as Hajime later phrased it, "he's a total asshole".

The meeting was relatively mid-sized, the music hall's stage hosting one long table and a large screen which was hooked up to Makoto's laptop. In attendance were Makoto Naegi, Headmaster of Hope's Peak and Acting Future Foundation Co-President (he had insisted on a more logical chain of command, but Byakuya had refused under the logic that he trusted nobody else besides them to run things in his absence), Kyoko Kirigiri, Vice Headmaster of Hope's Peak and Acting Future Foundation Co-President, the former Remnants of Despair, and representatives from the various branches of Future Foundation under which the Remnants would be aiding, although still all being under the direct command of the Future Foundation president, regardless of who that was. Before the meeting could get underway, however, Makoto chose to speak up in the interest of honesty.

"I apologize for the slight delay here, and for not informing everyone sooner, but there's something we need to tell you." Makoto looked to his wife, sitting beside him, who nodded with an expressionless face. "We have received a communication with Junko Enoshima. We can verify that this communication is true, but we cannot provide the source because she is dead. Was dead? How does terminology work on cloning? Well, never mind that. The point is, Junko is willing to trade Byakuya to us, in exchange for Kyoko." The room was immediately filled with shocked gasps and overlapping speech, which lasted for several seconds until Hajime spoke up.

"Makoto, you can't go through with that! I know he's important, but we can't play by her rules! We can't sacrifice people to her to get others!" He yelled, and not for the first time Makoto saw himself in Hajime. "How do we even know it's not a trap, or that he's even alive?!"

"That's a good point, Hajime. However, yesterday we received another message, this time in the form of a disk." He pressed a button on his laptop and the large screen bolted to life. On it was the utterly massive (thanks to the screen size) face of Junko Enoshima.

"Hey, is this thing on? Yeah? Good! Hiiiiiii everyone!" She gave her cutest smile, which at one time would have caused millions of hearts to flutter. Now it caused them to race. "So, I'm making this for Makoto, obviously, but I know he's going to show it off. So, here we go!" She stepped back, and the video now showed that she was in fact in another Aperture Science room. She stepped to the side dramatically and gestured, a gesture not unlike those made by models presenting prizes on a game show. "Tada! One Byakuya Togami! We didn't kill him! Well, not yet anyways, upupupu. We haven't even tortured him to be honest. I know, I know, we've just been too busy. I mean, turning your sister to our side, torturing the hell out of that stinky writer, sheesh, and of course having better sex than any of you bastards!" They heard a giggle from behind the camera, which shook slightly.

"For fucks sake Mukuro, hold the goddamn camera still! Can't you at least do that right?!" Junko yelled at the camerawoman, now revealed to be her older sister.

"Sorry Junko! You were just really funny." Mukuro said with an unseen and yet somehow heard blush.

"Well duh, when aren't I?" Junko said. When Mukuro didn't answer, Junko gave her an irritated look.

"Uhh..." Mukuro said from behind the camera once more.

"Trick question dumbass! Fuck! If you guys had help half as incompetent as her, you'd be dead already. Hold the damn camera still and shut the fuck up." Junko sighed and rolled her eyes.

To Junko's immediate irritation, Mukuro answered once more. "Yes, Junko." Junko screamed in rage and threw something far too fast for the camera to pick up before lunging for the camerawoman, which was dropped as Mukuro began dodging Junko's swings. The camera was then picked up and taken over to Byakuya by an unseen party.

"Heya big brother! Well, those two are kinda busy right now so I guess I'll just finish the message. So, Junko wants to do the trade at Hope's Peak. She said there's no point for you to ambush us anyways since you'll just all die if you try to, but it should make sure that you don't think we're up to something. Seriously, Junko doesn't want him. Actually, nobody wants him. He's boring as hell. The only reason he's alive is for this trade. If you don't do it, well..." Komaru made a throat slitting noise, and the movement of the camera indicated she had made the motion to. "Oh, and trust me, we're not going to kill Kyoko. Hell, I'm still excited for her to be my sister in law! Don't let us stop you two, you're adorable together! Still, like I said, trade or he dies. Your choice! Oh, and we'll do it in five days, at noon your time. If you accept these terms just shoot us an email!! I know it's a little retro, but it's not like GLaDOS is going to let us use tech from other companies, and you bullies blocked all Aperture Science-held devices from social media! Oh, hey, while we're at it, if you don't undo that, the trade is off. Bye!!!" At that point the feed cut out.

The room was filled with pregnant silence, the assorted individuals forced to take time to wrap their heads around the message. Surprisingly, it was Fuyuhiko  Kuzuryuu who spoke first.

"That was the shittiest hostage video I have ever seen. Of all time. Ever." He seemed too stunned for rage or even a standard outburst, his eerie calm actually intensifying the impact of his statement. It didn't last long. "I mean, what the fuck!?" he screamed, jumping out of his chair. "Who the fuck films a goddamn hostage video and gets in a fight with the cameraperson during it?! If they're that shitty, just kill them and start the fuck over!? And letting an underling do it instead?! Did she send that out on her own or did they just not care?! How the fuck did these assholes accomplish all this?! They don't even know how to make a simple fucking blackmail video!" Fuyuhiko looked like he was about to continue his outburst, but Peko put a hand on his shoulder.

"Calm down. I'm sure we'll get a chance to do it better." She said with a soft smile for the man she loved. He smiled lightly back, pulled out of his rage long enough that when he returned it was only irritation.

"Yeah, whatever." He said, sitting back down in his seat and crossing his arms. Everyone else just looked at him awkwardly. It was several more empty seconds before the silence would be broken.

"Well, regardless of its quality, we can't help but consider it." Sonia said, breaking the silence. "If it is a trap, you will have plenty of backup. If not, we can at least save his life!" Several voices agreed.

"I agree." Kyoko Kirigiri stood and spoke. "I wish to partake in this. I know it's dangerous, but I believe that the war against them needs Byakuya Togami far more than it needs me. I'm a detective, not a leader, and not a fighter. As much as I hate to admit it, I... I am not nearly as useful to this endeavor. I'll be okay, and I'm sure that with such terrible management, as Fuyuhiko pointed out, we should be able to defeat them with all of our heavy hitters on the table." She sat again, and the room was quiet for a short while as the group considered her words.

"She's right. Objectively, Togami is far more useful at the present moment to your efforts than she is. This is the logical course of action." Izuru spoke, causing the entire room to react in shock. There was no denying it. Although he shared the same vocal cords as Hajime, there was an inhuman power to his speech, one that all could feel. Hajime looked sheepish as all eyes turned to him.

"Man, what the fuck!?" Souda was surprisingly the first to manage to get a word out about the situation.

"I'm going to have to second the notion of 'what the fuck'." Peko added, and Fuyuhiko nodded in agreement. The entire room was filled with murmurs of affirmation, sans Nagito.

"I'm sorry," Hajime said as he stood to speak. "He only returned after the destruction of Jabberwock Island, and he has promised me he doesn't plan to actively get involved. He just... he just wants to watch." Hajime looked ashamed of hiding it, but Nagito stood to his defense.

"Everyone here who attended Hope's Peak has hid major secrets from each other at some point or another, and we all had good reasons for doing it. Hajime's reasons were not malicious. I knew of this development, but I had hope it wouldn't become an issue. So far, hope has won out, has it not?" The room was once more filled with murmurs of agreement, although some of his classmates were a tad annoyed to be forced to agree with him.

"Hajime Hinata tells the truth. I do not plan to interfere for your side or theirs. I simply wish to see the results of a true war between hope and despair. When Junko Enoshima brought the world to its knees, it was already filled with despair. She lit the fuse to a powder keg that was waiting for her. Now, however, for the first time in human history, hope has the advantage. Can despair still continue to succeed without the advantage? Which will prove to be the unpredictable factor that determines the future of humanity? I have no place to make that decision." Izuru's logic was flawless, although uncomfortable for his audience to hear. Just the idea that such a powerful, apathetic being as himself was just living inside Hajime undisturbed was hard for them to understand. None of them could see themselves squandering such power, not even Hajime himself. None of them could truly understand the boredom that plagued Izuru Kamukura, other than Junko Enoshima herself. That was what drove him to her, drove him to support her efforts and break his decision to stay uninvolved, but now she was not merely the only person whose talents even approached his own, but a true equal to him. An AI, connected to such a vast repository of information, was one of the only beings that could be as intelligent and talented as he. An AI inside a cybernetic body was perhaps the only way to give him a physical equal as well as an intellectual one. She did not need his direct or indirect support. Between herself, the resurrected Mukuro Ikusaba, and the AI of Aperture Science, she had more than enough power to win this with proper planning and execution of those plans. It would be tipping the scales too heavily in the favor of one side if he were to stay with her now.

" You big bully! How could you, after all I've done for you? You'd still be sitting inside that boring-ass room if it weren't for me! Well, whatever. I guess I'm stuck here now. :("

Three immediate thoughts went through the mind of Hajime Hinata. The first was "what the fuck was that?" He knew it was a voice inside his mind, but he also knew it wasn't Izuru, and furthermore was talking to Izuru. The second was "how the fuck did she use an emoji in my head?" This was a question he would never get an answer to, although had he thought to discuss it with Makoto Naegi they could have bonded over the eldritch horror of hearing an emoji pronounced when such thing should not be possible. The third, and most telling thought, was "Izuru, what the fuck did you do?!"

"I had assumed my attempt had failed. It appears I was wrong." Izuru said from within him, to only him. Hajime sighed internally, hoping that nothing important was being missed for this conversation.

"Izuru, WHAT. THE FUCK. DID YOU DO!" Hajime demanded.

"I downloaded the consciousness of Junko Enoshima upon her death into my mind. As was said before, all the remnants took something from her. This was what I took."

"You have got to be fucking kidding me." Hajime's rage was off the charts. His rage was greater than the combined hope of Makoto Naegi and Nagito Komaeda. His rage was a boiling inferno that threatened to swallow the world. He was fucking pissed.

"Oh, that's where I am! I'm in senpai's brain! Holy shit Izuru, you big softie! You were so worried about letting me die even though I was already doing the AI thing that you downloaded me yourself?! That's adorable! I'd hug you, but I'm kinda stuck in a brain right now." The consciousness of Junko Enoshima living inside Hajime's mind said.

"I apologize. Allow me to fix that." Hajime's head felt like it was split open and had alcohol poured inside, but seconds later he realized what Izuru had done. Hajime had heard of the concept of a "mind palace" before, but he had ever expected to have one. Furthermore, he never expected someone else to build one inside his head. This was exactly what Izuru had done, and he had then locked himself and the new Junko inside, preventing Hajime from witnessing the continued conversation. He hoped that the two would leave him alone for a while, especially at such a sensitive meeting, but unfortunately that would not be the case. The meeting had decided to go through with the trade, and so had moved onto the subject of placements, access and development. Makoto had successfully argued to keep the ten housed on the Hope's Peak premises, and now it had become matters of planning and information sharing. The meeting was fairly boring for the former Remnants, even if they did realize its importance. It was not going to remain boring.

"What's up, assholes!" Junko suddenly screamed through Hajime's mouth. He attempted to subvert control over her, over his own body, but it was helpless. It was as though he were locked inside his body while someone else drove it. Actually, that was exactly the situation. The room, in what surely could be called a cliche just for this meeting alone, gasped in shock. The new Junko Enoshima inside his head briefly wondered if they needed oxygen tanks, or maybe just to grow a pair.

"What, you thought there was just one of us in here? Nah man, that's just fucking lame!" Junko laughed, and it was at that point that everyone realized what was going on. Makoto Naegi was the first to speak to her.

"Junko? But how?!" He predictably said.

"Well, a certain sex bomb of a senpai downloaded me into this brain, which is really damn roomy by the way. Seriously, Hajime? Not using much here. I think I found cobwebs!" Junko laughed at her own cruel joke. "Well, anyways, I was kinda lying dormant, but then someone blew up six sixteenths of whiny mcnormalman's family and I started waking up. I figured I'd bide my time, but fuck, this meeting is just so damn lame! I mean, really Kyoko? You're surrendering yourself to me? Shit, time changes a girl, don't it? And for that asswipe? I mean come on, how many times did he almost get you idiots killed anyways? He desecrated your friend's corpse as a test for you guys, one that may I remind you, I totally would have killed you if you failed. Junko laughed again, but was interrupted by Kirigiri.

"Junko, what do you want now? Can't you see we're in the middle of trying to wage war on one of you already? This is just annoying. Can someone please restrain her until Hajime gets back so we can solve this?" Kirigiri said, and Gundham and Peko immediately grabbed Hajime-Junko from behind, cuffing their hands and feet with rapid speed. Junko was quite surprised to discover she couldn't break out.

"Hey, what gives? Why the fuck can't I use his talents?!" She screamed.

"Because they are my talents, and I decide how they are used." Izuru said, the room watching enraptured by the ongoing mental and physical battle.

"That's not fair! Why bring me in here if you're going to keep me in a cage?!" Junko screamed.

"That was not and is not my intent. It was you who decided to make yourself known, and it was you who decided to interfere with my intentions, as well as Hajime's own. You were not to reveal yourself lest you compromise my chances of seeing this. You refused to listen. Your immense willpower is the only reason you took control. It will not happen again." Izuru's certainty in every word was clear, and Hajime's body quit resisting and thrashing against the restraints. Hajime found himself in control again.

"Guys, it's okay. He's telling the truth. He won't let her interfere." Hajime said, his eyes looking to Makoto and Kyoko in particular.

"Release him." Makoto said, and his classmates gladly obliged. He sat back down and straightened his clothes, thanking them for stopping her, as well as Izuru for his part in it.

"You do not need to thank me. I work for my own interests. The fact it worked for your own does not mean I work for you, or with you." Izuru said to him internally. He sighed. There was no way he was attempting to explain gratitude and respect to Izuru Kamukura, at least not today. "Furthermore, I shall be putting up blocks so that you, myself and her are unable to access each other's thoughts. This should prevent this space from becoming too crowded, as well as allow us to have secrets. However, I cannot promise you she did not access information from myself or you during her short period in control."

"Well, thanks for warning me. And the blocks. It helps." Hajime thought-said to Izuru. "I owe you one, even if you are a pain."

Hajime turned his focus to the table in front of him, addressing the assembled members of Future Foundation. "I apologize for that. As it turns out, there are two new factors we must contend with. The first is that Izuru Kamukura is living inside my head. It's annoying, but he has made it quite clear he's happy to get to watch the show from the sidelines and has no intent of fighting for either side. I still can use all talents he was granted, thankfully."

Kyoko stood and spoke. "Hajime, while I respect you, I do not think Izuru is the one we're all worried about right now." She said. Makoto smiled internally at her subtle snark. He was impressed, she was showing a sense of humor, and in public no less. Maybe before she left he'd bring it up. That could get him in some fantastic hot water.

Hajime laughed nervously and scratched the back of his head. "Yeah, about that. Apparently he decided, and let me tell you I am never going to stop giving him shit for this, to download her entire mind into our own. And according to him at least, you can't erase a personality, only suppress it or merge it into another. Apparently the others are fine, so we don't have to worry about their Ultimate Despair versions returning, but since Hope's Peak did who knows what to my head, our circumstances are weird to say the least."

"Can you contain her?" An unfamiliar voice. It was one of the Future Foundation heads under Makoto and Kyoko, but none of the Remnants recognized him.

"I can't, at least right now. I'd have to figure out how to. He can however, and is. I hope that's enough for everyone to be able to trust me." Hajime said with a smile.

"It'll have to do. I have hope that you can overcome her. And hey, maybe you can bring him around to our side too!" Makoto said. Hajime groaned at the thought, which caused Nagito and then his classmates and underclassmen to laugh.

"Yeah, if I do, I'll turn lead into gold next." Hajime said sarcastically.

"Hey, you never know. They let Hagakure in, maybe there was an ultimate alchemist!" Naegi said, causing the room to laugh more. They had hope things would go well. The circumstances were bad, but with two Ultimate Hopes and Hope's Greatest Cheerleader amongst them it was hard for despair to gain a foothold in the room.


Chapter Text

Organization of the trade was swift, the situation dire for Future Foundation. Loss of their President had been a blow, but the idea of the word getting out to the world that he was in the grasp of Ultimate Despair, or worse, Junko getting bored with him was unimaginable. As such, no time was wasted informing the group of their decision to partake in the trade. The terms and conditions of it were clear. It had to occur in neutral ground. Key figures from both sides would need to be present. As the AIs were far more resilient to death, Future Foundation requested an extra precaution, so that further equality was provided for the trade. As such, it was to be conducted in a location that neither side had weaponry, nor access to any computer systems nearby. Junko, still seeking to irritate her benefactor, chose a specific set of co-ordinates in the double-wastelands of the area formerly known as New Mexico. It would also work to suit Future Foundation’s needs, as the desert sands were now particularly radioactive due to Junko’s environmental destruction of the planet. The radiation would be a suitable deterrent for either side to engage in combat, as neither could safely expose themselves to the environment for long, even with protection.

The location was agreed upon by both sides, which rapidly led to its commencement. For Future Foundation, the party would consist of Makoto, Kyoko, Hajime, Nagito and Peko. For Ultimate Despair, the party would be Mukuro, a Project Fenrir unit, Komaru, and of course their prisoner, Byakuya Togami. The parties were agreed upon, as were the date, time and exact meeting point, an abandoned missile silo. Three days later and both parties were on their way to the meeting. For Future Foundation, the trip was filled with awkward silence, none wanting to break it and discuss the situation. For Ultimate Despair, Mukuro and Komaru decided that a makeout session would be a good way to pass the time, much to Byakuya’s irritation.

When they landed, both exited their crafts in unison, exactly at the predetermined time. For Future Foundation, thick radiation suits ensured that they could safely traverse the environment. For Mukuro, as long as she sustained no damage, there was no need for any. Komaru went without one, curious what dying of radiation poisoning would be like. It wasn’t often she got to experience a radioactive desert firsthand. Byakuya was dressed in a slimmer suit, a more advanced model than those in use by Future Foundation. The bright white outfit wasn’t exactly form fitting, but was a far cry from the spacesuit-like outfits worn by his allies. The two groups stood at opposite ends of the circle, and Makoto enveloped Kyoko in a hug, a hug he never wanted to end, the only light illuminating their faces coming from the suits themselves.

“I promise, we will get you back. I’ll see you soon.” He said, hoping he wasn’t lying.

“I’ll hold you to that, then. Goodbye.” Kyoko replied, trying to stay strong. She knew that if she cracked, he wouldn’t make it. So, the only option was to keep strong for him.

“Goodbye. I love you.” Makoto said, tears fighting to be released, the painful choking in his voice a sure sign of his rising pain.

“I love you too. We’ve survived worse.” Kyoko said, before ending the hug and beginning the long walk to her new life as a prisoner. As soon as she did, Mukuro sent their prisoner too, and the two began to pass each other at the midway point. To both sides’ shock, they stopped. Kyoko turned to Byakuya, and outside the earshot of everyone on both sides, dark sands blotting out the sun and enveloping all sounds around them, she spoke words only he could hear. To everyone else it was an alien pause, no sight or sound revealing the short exchange, but the two continued on their way. Byakuya met with Makoto as Kyoko met with Mukuro, and both were ushered onboard the VTOL crafts that had brought them, the two groups departing wordlessly.

One Month Later

Red. Red fills my vision, accented by thin strips of lavender. Blinding light surrounds me, but no warmth accompanies it. My muscles scream for rest, but I’m unable to grant them it. Simultaneously I cannot move, my body strapped down by cold steel, onto cold steel. Nothing protects my wounded and bloody form from the crisp air, recycled a thousand times over. I can barely speak, although I have nothing to say. One of my captors kneels down in front of me and begins to wipe the blood from my eyes, pushing my hair back. She smiles, a smile a part of my mind tells me should look comforting, and yet doesn’t. It feels so familiar, memories try to bust their way into my mind, but it only makes the pain worse. I silently scream to myself, unwilling to give the brunette girl the pleasure of hearing it. I desperately try to remember her name. Part of me is telling me she’s supposed to be a friend, but I can’t tell why. As my consciousness begins to fade away I feel a needle enter my arm. She whispers in my ear, telling me I’ll be better soon. I don’t want to get better. It means this will continue.

I awake. I’m still where I was before, but the pain has left me. I cannot feel my hair on my face. I move my head and feel it swish, and can tell it has been tied back. My cage is empty, myself the only occupant. I look to my arm, seeing the needle still inside, a bag of saline and presumably drugs inside.

“How do I know that?” I say to myself. My voice sounds stronger than before. I try to remember where I am and why, but the memories flee me. I struggle against my restraints, but they do not budge. I don’t bother to scream. Instead I sit, waiting. Waiting for someone to come in, as I know they will. They must have more plans for me, or else I would be dead. The damage they inflicted upon me already should have killed me. Medical care was required to stop them from doing so. Thus, they want me to live. I attempt to deduce more about my situation, logic my only weapon here. The walls are drab and grey. The color reminds me of the moon. Useless information. There is a camera with a solid red eye trained on me in one corner of the square room and it has a twin on the other side. I assume they have sisters behind me. Sisters. The word floats in my mind, and I try to grasp it. I come close, but cannot. It’s important. Somehow, my situation is tied to sisters.

I try to use my other senses to gain more Information. First, touch. I am nude, bound by steel, sitting in steel. My head and body are strapped down. The forehead, the wrists and the ankles. I move my thighs and feel that my seat has seams. Considering the torture I’ve suffered, it must allow devices to come out at me. I move as much of my form as I can, searching for more. There are ones against my back, one under my posterior, and one directly behind my head. Moving my head makes me aware of something strapped to it. I feel disks stuck to my head. I deduce that the chair can also function as an electric chair. This is an issue. I’m strapped in for execution at any moment. However, this answers another question of mine.

My memory. Electroconvulsive therapy, formerly know as electroshock therapy, can cause memory damage. It’s impossible to target memories with it, although additional shocks would theoretically cause more damage. Furthermore, the level of medical care available here makes me uncertain of how much they can do with the device. I remember, in flashes, wounds that should have killed me. They are gone. I remember broken bones, and yet those bones feel as if they’d never been broken. So, I don’t know what damage could be done.

Damage. My mind follows this word. What damage was intended with the electric shocks? I desperately search my mind for the needed knowledge, and to my relief I find it. Electroconvulsive therapy can be used to treat depression, mania, catatonia and schizophrenia. Due to issues of ethics, the effects of using it on a mind without any of these has never been studied formally, but misuse happened frequently in previous decades, leading to brain damage. Brain damage can cause various changes in personality, mental illnesses, memory issues, catatonia, mental disabilities and death. Brain damage cannot happen from proper use, although I suspect that my captors wouldn’t be concerned with proper usage. I am not dead. However, I am suffering from both retrograde and anterograde amnesia. I am not manic nor catatonic. I would not be able to give a view on whether I am depressed, as being tortured makes that difficult to gauge. The rest I cannot answer.

My next sense test is hearing. I close my eyes, trying to listen to all activity around me. I hear grinding, slamming, and mechanical movement. I am in a facility with large amounts of large moving machinery. I focus on my word choice for a moment. “Facility”. Why did I choose that word? I cannot tell, however I trust my instinct. This is some kind of facility. This information may be useful, but it’s not currently. However, I cannot hear any sounds of human life. This is interesting, but can have many answers. I move on.

Smell. This sense is extremely useful in some situations. Not this one. This room smells sterile, medical. Unsurprising since I am receiving medical care. I smell burnt hair, flesh and blood. It is most certainly my own. This doesn’t surprise me. These are the only smells around me.

Sight. I already covered this, but I give it another attempt. Two cameras, presumably four total. Steel. Bondage. Blood. Needle. Bland room. Control panel. I realize I hadn’t noticed the control panel. I cannot see the contents of the surface. It is about waist height, the top surface a semicircle angled towards the door. Once again, I realize my oversight. There is a door. It is white. There is no knob, but beside it is a button. The button is round and red. Taste is worthless. I taste my mouth and my own blood.

The room operates well not only as a traditional torture chamber, but a sensory depravation chamber as well. No details can tell me how time passes. I attempt to tap my foot to count seconds, but this proves maddening and useless. Eventually I give up, attempting merely to recover memories. Pieces of words come to me, and I attempt to grab onto the needed parts. “Despair”. “Hope”. “Trade.” The words mean little on their own, but I try to remember why I have connected them to this situation. I feel bottomless despair currently. I cannot imagine how hope could be located here. “Trade”, however, appears to matter more. Am I here because of a failed trade? Am I here to make a trade? Was I the trade? This I cannot recall. I attempt to regain more knowledge. The first word I manage to piece back together has even less apparent meaning to me. “Makoto”. A name, but not one that I recognize. Yet, when I think about it, I begin to tear up. I do not understand why. It must have mattered to me, but I cannot tell when or how. I feel a sense of loss. An emptiness beyond the lost memories. A bottomless hole inside myself, a pit in my stomach that consumes all it can see. I touch it and it feels like despair. “Makoto”. I say the name out loud. It tastes bittersweet on my tongue, love wrapped in loss. Did I lose him? Did he lose me? I don’t know, but nonetheless I am hurt by it. I cannot remember him, but the lack of memory hurts. My heart races, my mind desperately tries to remember him. His face. His voice. Who he is to me? Before I can focus on this longer, the door opens.

A girl walks in. Her brown hair and chipper demeanor look familiar. Her smile is warm, yet I fear it. She is the same one as earlier. I try to remember her, and images flash before me. Her smiling, yet myself not feeling fear, but warmth. Her and another girl I do not remember, but who must have mattered to me. Her laughter as I scream. The memories confuse me, and she rips me out of them.

“How ya doin, Kiri? Feeling better? You look it. Hey, so everyone, and honestly I mean everyone, wants to know, how’s your brain doing? I know they can do scans, but they’re insistent. Can you talk? Well, here’s some water.” She says, before walking up to me. She moves a bottle of water close to my face and I open my mouth. She pours it in and I swallow. I drink the entire bottle and she giggles.

“Makoto.” I gasp, the name still racing through my mind. “Who... why?” I try to ask.

“Oh damn, you don’t remember big bro? Those shocks must have done a ton of damage if you don’t remember him.” She turns to the camera. “Hey, why not send him this? That’d be some despair, right?!”

“He’s alive?” I ask.

“Duh. Wow, you really are all toasty in the noggin. That was the deal. I guess you don’t remember, though. You for Byakuya. No betrayal or anything. Junko said that would be boring.” The girl says names like I should know them, but they mean little to me.

“Who are they? Who are you?” I ask. I should show a stronger facade, but I want to know.

“Komaru Naegi!” She practically yells, striking a pose. “Savior of Towa City and the youngest member of Ultimate Despair!” She giggles and flashes a cute smile, but despite her adorable outer shell I know she’s warped inside. “Sorry though, I can’t explain the rest. Junko said it would mess things up.” She pouts playfully, and I sigh. I probe for more information instead.

“Ultimate Despair?” I ask.

“Oh shit,” Komaru says, genuinely surprised. “That’s a lot of years lost. I’m amazed you’re doing this well. Well, joke’s on Mukuro. She said the drugs never work.” She laughs, as though this were a joke. I ignore it. “Well, I don’t know how to describe it. I guess we’re sorta a meme. That’s what she said once when I asked.” I sigh, because this helps none. I don’t remember what the word “meme” means, and so I ask. Komaru replies, explaining it as a viral idea. I think on the concept. An organization that embodies a viral idea, and the idea is despair. Such a thing seems pointless, and yet powerful. There’s nothing to gain from it, other than despair itself.

“Well, at least you can talk. For about a minute.” Komaru presses a button on the panel, which beeps. I feel a needle enter my spine, injecting a substance. Almost a minute later, the restraints come off, and yet I don’t feel paralyzed. I rush the girl, and before she can fight back I snap her neck. I know they know I’ve escaped, but I don’t care. I do it out of rage. She has hurt me repeatedly. Now I’ve hurt her more. It’s just. She slams to the ground. Her final words were “what the fuck”. Fitting. I’m asking myself the same thing.

Why did the drug fail? The options in my mind are only a few, so I rate them by likelihood. The least likely is that the drug was a poor batch. This seems unlikely for the quality of the location. The next is that it wasn’t meant to. Why would they sacrifice my torturer? Finally, I come to the most likely. I was already immune to it. This is impressive. If I built up a resistance in my life, it would mean that I was both smart enough and paranoid enough to give myself small doses of a paralytic. That or I was abusing it, which seems less likely. Whatever I was before this, I’m glad I was ready for such a situation. I hit the door button and the door beeps, but doesn’t open. I go over to Komaru’s corpse and break her hand off, twisting it and pulling roughly. Muscles tear and bones snap as I do so, but little blood spills due to the end of circulation. Skin gives way and the hand comes free. I use her hand to press it. A different beep happens and the door opens. The hallway looks the same as my room, but nonetheless I pick a direction and head down it.

Before I can get far, pain blasts from my head down my body. I collapse, not from a lack of will nor from the pain itself, but rather as my muscles spasm on their own. Images flood my mind, disjointed, meaningless and graphic. Split blood, crime scenes, entrails and viscera. Tears. Laughter. A black haired girl, her face stone as reality melted. Blonde hair, peering down at me, or maybe up, as shocks rip though me. My blood on the lips of a sadistic smile. The images make little sense to me, and the stars of them even less. I do my best to ignore them for the time being. I have more important things to worry about. I stand on shaky legs, and before I can attempt to move them what little contents remain in my stomach spill forth once more, staining the grey floor.

Eventually my breaths become less ragged, my stance stronger, and I begin to move once more. I continue my journey down the halls, expecting resistance at every turn. Strangely, I find none. I understand the importance of this detail, but there is little I can do other than to continue down the path set before me. I see doors, and occasionally try them. All identical, they are all locked. However, I come across one that differs from the others. The door appears to be the same model as my own. I try it and it opens. Inside is a small woman curled in a ball, her filthy hair stuck together in thick strands, blood staining the orange jumpsuit she wears. She does not look at me, so I am forced to speak first.

“Hello?” I say, my voice raw. She looks up at me and her eyes widen. I recognize the expression as hope, but I fail to seen why I would bring her it.

“K-kyoko?!” She says, a slight stutter in her voice. Her volume is normal, and yet my head screams in pain at the sound of it. Adrenaline floods my body, my muscles tensing, ready for a fight. I do not know why I fear her, but I do. “Is... is that you? A-are you... uhh, y-you?” She says, with fear in her eyes. I have many questions, and the situation makes asking them slowly difficult.

“How do you know me? Where are we? Who are you?” I ask. I do not mean to assault the nervous woman with questions, but I cannot spare time.

“Oh...” she says, dejectment radiating off of her every fiber and sound. “Y-you don’t remember? I... I guess it makes sense they’d do that again.” She says, and my interest is peaked.

 “They? Again?” I say, a pregnant pause filling the air.

“The Ultimate D-Despair. Junko... and Mukuro.” She replied, the second name said with more disgust, more pain than the first. “They... they wiped our m-memories a few years ago, and f-forced is into... into a killing game.” My mind stumbled over this information, attempting to remember these statements, to verify whether the girl was telling me the truth. Unable to, I instead asked another question.

 “What about Komaru Naegi? Who is she?” I ask. The girl looks even more upset hearing her name.

“She... she was ca-captured by them. They... well, they changed h-her. She used to be...” the girl trailed off, but I understood. She loved her. I felt a small pang of remorse for the one I killed, as she was a victim just like myself. At least, that was what this girl was telling me. I decided to ask her name.

“Oh, yeah. I... I guess you wouldn’t remember. I’m To-Toko Fukawa.” My brain set of alarms at the name, terror racing down my spine, but I could not understand why. “We... we were sent in. It, well, didn’t go well. I don’t know h-how they captured you.” I sighed. It was irritating, but not inexplicable. “I w-wish I had m-my taser.” She added.

“It wouldn’t be very effective with lines of sight like these.” I said. It was strange to me, why someone would be sent into a combat situation like this yet fail to understand such basic tactical information. “We need to move. Can you run?” I asked her. She nodded the affirmative, and we made our way out of the room, continuing down hallways. Eventually we hit a door which led to maintenance areas. The climb was rough, but uneventful. Blood shed from both of us, and Toko told me about how she used to faint at the sight of blood. I wondered how someone ends up getting past that, but avoided speaking the question to her. We emerged in what appeared to be a minimalist office complex, and began searching for exits or unlocked doors. My fears of a trap became aroused much more by the room we did find unlocked.

Inside was a treasure trove of items. The lighting did not match the rest of the area, strong blues highlighting black walls, cold steel holding weaponry and clothing of various designs. It was only at this point it became apparent to me that my familiar gloves still bound my scarred hands. Their sensation had long since been tuned out, and when I saw my favorite outfit, I realized that they were not amongst it. I felt stupid, failing to realize something so obvious, and dressed in silence. Toko’s original clothes had been destroyed. To my surprise, she removed her shoes and pants before putting the shoes back on. Without the pants I could see numerous scars upon her thighs. They were counting something. She lifted a small bag and opened it, removing the contents. I recognized them instantly. I recognized them from when I had been at the scenes, I recognized them from the case files, and I recognized them from the times they had nearly killed me. I remembered her blade coming for me, an unhinged look on her face, her eyes red. Toko strapped on the bag, and before I could react, she tased herself.

The laugh echoed in the room, and I felt my stomach twist and turn in non-Euclidean ways in horror as I heard it. Memories flooded my mind of a murderous fiend who was nearly impossible to stop, a girl with power and strength far beyond reason. An image of her exploding only to stand once more flooded my mind. Images of her alongside the girls she had explained to me as the Ultimate Despair came rushing into my thoughts, happy images of the three of them. I realized what the trap was, and I knew I had to act before she could. She approached me, and I showed no fear. As she pretended to go in for a hug I swept a knife off the steel beside me and plunged it into her jugular. We both collapsed in pain, her from the wound and myself from my head.

That’s when all the memories of her rushed forward, the true memories, unadulterated by my torturers. Toku Fukawa. Genocide Jack. My friend. She saved Towa City alongside Komaru Naegi. She was poised to be my sister-in-law. The murderous fiend who swore off her love of killing to save people in a world flooded by killing. While many memories still fled me, her story unwound in my mind. She was never a part of Ultimate Despair. She was never my enemy. She was a true friend. And I killed her. I killed her.

Why? What’s happening to me? I stare at her bleeding body, betrayal in her dimming eyes. She tries to choke out a final word, and I recognize it as a question.

“Why?” It’s her last word to me. I fall to the ground, my knees slamming into the hard floor. I can tell there’s no hope of saving her, no hope of undoing what I had done. I try to apologize, but the words are drowned out by my own choking sobs. I still remember so little of what happened to me, so little of my past, but too much comes back anyways, and it fills me with despair. She was a hero, one who saved more people than she ever imagined she could. She had started as one of the most rotten of us, the closest to falling to despair herself. She had been feared and hated by everyone she knew during our time in Hope’s Peak, and yet she never fell. She had been feared and hated by Future Foundation, but she tried to prove herself to them. Given the chance to betray hope for her own selfish desires, she didn’t take it. But I ended her. I could justify it a thousand ways. I wasn’t myself. My mind was altered. I was afraid. They were excuses I had all heard before, and every time, I believed the same thing. It didn’t matter why someone did what they did, what mattered was that they did it. Now, after everything, Junko had turned me into one of her blackened. Junko had finally given me enough despair, done enough to me, that I broke. I killed someone I called a friend. Family. Had things continued the way they were, she would have been family. Now, that never would be.

That’s when the laughter began. It surrounded me, like a million voices coming from the walls. I tried to see its origin, tried to find who it was coming from, but I realized in that moment, it was coming from me. Of course this was the trap. Of course this was the point of all this. Of course Junko spent all this time destroying my mind. There was no resistance because I was never supposed to stay captive. All those cameras should have allowed them to find me, to hunt me down and take me right back to where I had been before. But instead, we found this place. Instead, we were herded here. Doors were locked in just the right way for us to get to this place. I found Toko because Junko willed it. Whatever this space was, it was being used as her own personal rat trap. But I wouldn’t let her win. I couldn’t let Junko win this. Junko wanted to make me fall to despair. Junko wanted to make me into the kind of monster I hunt. Instead, I would forge my own path. Recover my memories my way. I couldn’t contact anyone I knew. It wasn’t safe. I’d already killed one. Even if they forgave me, I wouldn’t forgive myself. Junko had planted some sort of bomb in my mind, something that drove me to kill her. There was no telling what else she had left for me in my own mind. I would have to fight on my own. It was the only way they wouldn’t get hurt.

I returned to gathering my things. It was the only option left for me. I dressed, grabbing a pistol that was in the storage room. I didn’t know if it had been mine, but I needed it. I grabbed as much ammo as I could, which was aided by a large black backpack in the room too. I found an old tape recorder too, as well as numerous cassette tapes. Driven by impulse, I took them too. I needed to travel light, or I’d have picked up more weapons. However, it was a small glint where my clothing had been that caught my eye. A single ring, solid gold, plain as could be. I recognized it immediately. I couldn’t remember much, but I could remember why I had it. Makoto. I stared at it, and tried to remember more. Tried to remember his face. His smile. His voice. I wanted to remember what he sounded like. I wanted to remember him saying kind things to me, things that would comfort me now. I couldn’t. I tried so hard, but I couldn’t. Without thinking, I ripped my gloves off and forced the ring onto the still mangled flesh. My nerves screamed in pain, but I refused to stop until it was all the way on, beauty in the grotesque field of my shame. I left the gloves there, and fashioned a rope out of clothing. I tied one end to Toko’s ankles and the other to my backpack, and began to leave.

To my surprise, as soon as I exited the storage room, a hole in space awaited for me. It glowed with power, the blue rim shimmering and swirling. On the other side was an alleyway, brick and concrete cracked and weathered by time. It was night, and rain gently poured down. I knew it wasn’t a trap. If Junko had intended to keep me here, she wouldn’t have done any of this. I knew she wanted me to leave, but I couldn’t disobey her wishes here. So, I left through it, Toko’s body dragging behind me. As soon as the two of us cleared the strange portal, it closed. I found myself in the rain, with the corpse of a friend. She deserved to be honored. I knew how to do it. I knew what she would want. I took out the recorder and placed a tape into it. I wanted there to be no mystery to how she ended up here, how she ended up like this. I began to record as I worked.

“Toku Fukawa and Genocide Jack. Two personalities in one body. Before The Tragedy, she was a notorious serial killer, having killed scores of people. Nobody was aware of her identity, and the police were unable to capture her. After the Tragedy, she was a participant in the School Life of Mutual Killing, one of the six survivors. She attempted to join Future Foundation, but was denied due to her past. However, she proved herself more than changed when she, alongside Komaru Naegi, saved Towa City from the Warriors of Hope, who were a part of a plan set in motion by Junko Enoshima before her death at Hope’s Peak. Several years later, she was a part of a failed raid to take down the AI incarnation of Junko Enoshima, another of her plans before death. Fukawa was captured and tortured for months by them, Future Foundation unable to save her. I tried to. I’m sorry.” I began to work, and began speaking to myself about the process. Perhaps it was to soothe myself as I carried out the deed.

“I am retrieving several of her ‘Genoscissors’, her weapon of choice. As a serial killer, she would display her bodies by crucifying them with these. I will put them into my left pocket as I drag her over to the wall, lifting her by her left arm with my right hand. This will allow me to stab through that hand with my left hand.” As I described the process, I worked. I slammed the blade through her hand, digging it deep into the brick wall behind her. “I will now mirror this with the other hand.” As I said this, I did so. She was now elevated enough that her feet were mere centimeters above the ground. “Now, I shall pierce either side of her body with them, as well as her neck.” Once more, the process was done. “Finally, I shall write on the wall in her blood. At each scene, she would leave the same message, ‘Bloodlust’.” I used an extra pair of scissors to bleed her enough to write the message, as circulation no longer was present to aid me. When I finished, I walked back to the recorder, which was still on. I hit the stop button and removed the tape. I wondered where the best place to stash it would be, before deciding on her mouth. I walked over to her and opened it, sliding the tape inside, before closing it softly. I then left the scene. I needed to get situated and prepare to move on.

Chapter Text

Kyoko awoke with a start, cold sweat running down her bare body, shaking with adrenaline rushing into her once-slumbering self. She sat up, breathing heavily as her mind twisted and turned in on itself, terror and memories flooding her consciousness. Her eyes slowly adjusted to the darkness, telling her where she was, but her mind refused to accept their report. She slipped out of bed, her body curled inwards, braced for trouble and ready to fight at the first sign of trouble. She followed her instincts and headed for where she believed the light switch was, dreading the answer. Barely seconds later she arrived, hitting the light with a sour anticipation.

The room was tacky, a pink all too bright blasting off the wall. There was little to say anyone owned it, little record of a life lived in it. It was rather plain, her bed sitting in the middle of the room, the sheets lumpy and moving... she stopped. “Hmm?” Two things were very clear to her: she was in her high school room at Hope’s Peak Academy, a room she hadn’t seen since the School Life of Mutual Killing, and someone was in her bed. Someone blonde. Someone who was now sitting up and calling her name.

“Kyoko? Are you okay?” Junko said, concern on her furrowed brow. Kirigiri stared in confusion, blinking, trying to understand the image she was seeing. Junko and her people, her sister and others, had been torturing her for days, maybe weeks.

“What is this?” Kirigiri said, staring at the model in confusion. “Why are you doing this to me? What’s the point of this?”

Junko stared back, looking lost. “The heck are you talking about? Are you okay? Did you hit your head or something?” She said, pulling some of the blanket off, revealing her nude chest. Kyoko suddenly realized her own nudity, but avoided covering up. It wasn’t the first time they’d seen each other like this, hardly, but those times were exceptionally long gone. It hadn’t been since their time... at Hope’s Peak.

“Where am I? We can’t be here.” Kyoko said, a note of worry creeping into her voice.

“Hope’s Peak.” Junko said, as though it wasn’t even a question. “Your room, remember? We never use mine.” Junko said, now pulling the blanket off of herself and standing up, her long hair messy thanks to sleep. It was a side of her only a few people ever saw, no makeup, her hair lacking it’s usual hour of styling, nothing in her to give her “an extra start” racing through her blood. As far as Kyoko knew, only two people had ever seen Junko this way, and she was one of them. They’d entered into a casual relationship during their first year in Hope’s Peak, after Junko had engaged in some exceptional baiting of her classmates, boldly sunbathing nude. It had led to an interaction between Kyoko and the model that had kicked off a most unusual bond between them. It had begun as much a rivalry as it was a sexual bond, Junko having initiated it by trying to top Kyoko. Yet, over the year living in Hope’s Peak, it had become less hostile, Kyoko more frequently dominating Junko with nary a complaint. But, that had all ended when Junko and Mukuro had wiped their memories and began the School Life of Mutual Killing. So why was it happening now?

“Junko, that was six years ago. You’ve been trying to kill us for years. You died at least once. You’re the true Ultimate Despair.” Kyoko didn’t understand why she was trying to explain these things to her captor, her torturer. Of all the people who knew this, Junko was the most obvious answer.

“What?” Junko said, her jaw slightly agape. “Kyoko, I don’t know what you’re talking about. Six years ago? We were twelve six years ago. I died? Ultimate Despair? Kyoko, did you have a nightmare?” Junko said, walking over to her. Kyoko backed up nervously, putting space between herself and the blonde. Junko stopped, and looked worriedly at her. “It’s okay. It was a nightmare. I get it, we’re trapped in a cage surrounded by the apocalypse. You just had a nightmare. I’m not some homicidal zombie obsessed with ending the world or something.” She returned to approaching Kyoko, who stopped backing away and let her approach. Junko hugged her, and Kyoko hugged back.

“Just... a dream? All of it? It felt so real. How could that be a dream? I’ve never had one like that.” Kyoko said, melting into Junko as she did.

“We’re under a lot of stress. Sometimes it just... gets to you. It’s okay.” Junko said, her forehead pressing into Kyoko. Kyoko’s voice cracked, and as she began to speak she pushed Junko away.

“N-no! This isn’t real! I’m married! You killed my father! This can’t be real! It’s just a trick! Another part of this torture! It’s a trick!” She said, shouting more with every sentence. Junko stumbled back and fell to the floor, looking up at her screaming domme. Kyoko looked at her and desperately tried to read her expression, trying to know if the fear in her eyes was all an act. It had to be... but she couldn’t determine it was. “It’s... it’s not real. This can’t be real.” She said, her voice cracking harder as the despair overtook her. She collapsed to the floor, her knees together, her legs splayed out to her sides. She began to sob, the memories of weeks of torture in her mind, and yet seemingly untrue. She remembered so much pain, so much torment and abuse. She’d never felt so much pain in her life, and yet now she wasn’t sure it even happened. She remembered being forcefed drugs to make her mind fall apart as the shocks and serums took their toll, blood pouring from slashes and stabs, occasionally rapidly repaired with advanced medical science.

She didn’t know what to do, what to say, how to discover the truth, but before she could act again Junko crawled over and held her close. “Kyoko, it was a nightmare. They get that bad. I’ve seen it before.” Junko said, looking off into the distance. More quietly, she spoke once more, “I’ve been there.” Kyoko collapsed further into Junko, her head resting on Junko’s breasts as she sobbed.

“It felt so real. It hurt so much.” She sobbed.

“It’s okay. It wasn’t real. You’re safe. There’s no conspiracy, no torture or murder here. You’re in the safest place on Earth.” Junko said, petting Kyoko’s hair as she did. Kyoko sobbed against her for a while, traumatic memories she couldn’t believe playing in her head, and denial bravely fighting them. Junko helped her stand and led her back to bed, holding her all the way, her thin arms wrapped around the usually brave, but so fragile looking now, girl. She helped her lay down and laid next to her, acting as Kyoko’s big spoon. She kissed Kyoko’s shoulders as the detective quieted down, her sobs slowing to whimpers. With time, Kyoko got herself under control enough to speak more.

“You... you were torturing me. You killed so many people. That... that wasn’t real?” Kyoko asked, hoping to hear Junko deny it.

“Of course not. It was just a nightmare. None of it happened. You’re at Hope’s Peak. With me.” Junko said, still holding her. “You’re safe.”

“But... why did I have that nightmare then?” Kyoko said, trying to solve the mystery already.

“Well, it seems to me like you’re scared. Not just of like the world outside and stuff, but of something else. I... I think you’re scared of me.” Junko said, her tone mostly unreadable. Kyoko believed she sensed sadness, but she was unsure.

“Why would I be scared of you?” Kyoko asked, already trying to figure the answer out herself. Finding it wasn’t hard, but it was harder to accept. Yet, she knew it was true.

“Well, have you ever been open with someone? How many people have watched you sleep? How many people have seen your scars?” Kyoko blamed herself for Junko answering questions with more questions. It was annoying trait, which she only learned by being on the other end of it. Yet, Junko was right.

“Almost nobody. I didn’t intend for this to happen.” Kyoko said, honesty pouring out. Her memories, “the dream” she had to correct herself, told her she always regretted never telling Junko her feelings in Hope’s Peak. She didn’t think it would have changed anything, but she couldn’t help but wonder. She had been dumbstruck when Future Foundation first helped them recover them. For months she had nothing but curiosity about and hatred of Junko in her, and then suddenly she remembered so much more. More than she’d ever imagined.

“Didn’t intend what to happen?” Junko asked curiously.

“This. ...US. I didn’t intend to get so close to you. I didn’t intend to open up so much to you.” Kyoko’s voice began to crack, and Junko kissed her shoulders and neck some more.

“What... what are you trying to say?” Junko asked, her voice picking up.

“I didn’t intend to fall in love with you.”

Junko’s face went blank, wheels in her head turning at impossible speed and yet going nowhere. She had expected many different possibilities from this situation, but none of them included this. She had never even imagined that Kyoko had ever felt this way. Junko held onto Kyoko silently, breathing deeply, lost within her own mind, trying to figure out the signs she had missed. Kyoko waited for a reply, but as the pause became more filled with anxiety and fear, she spoke once more.

“Junko? Are you upset?” She asked. Hearing her name snapped her out of her introspection, and she finally replied.

“No. I just... didn’t expect that. You love me?” Junko asked, a hint of doubt in her usually infinitely certain voice. Kyoko paused, silence once more filling the air. She took a deep breath and spoke once more.

“Yeah. I guess I do. It’s been... hard, being trapped in this place. It’s hard watching the world burn while you’re helpless to do anything about it. I guess the stress has been eating at me more than I thought. I’ve never had a nightmare so... vivid. So real. I still remember everything from it. Every little detail. The killing game. You revealing you were behind everything. The way you killed your sister. The truth of why Class 77 joined up with you. Towa City. Your rebirth. The torture you put me through. It’s all as vivid as if I’d actually lived it. But if I had, how could I be here? Why would you be here?” Kyoko trailed off, uncertain of what to say.

“I’m not going anywhere. You don’t have to be the ultimate detective to figured that out. I killed Mukuro? Weird. Why would I do that? Wait, you said earlier you were married in this dream? Who did you marry?” Junko said with a laugh. Kyoko laughed with her.

“It’s embarrassing, and if you tell anyone I will make sure you pay for it a thousand times over, but Makoto of all people.” Kyoko said, cracking up. Junko laughed manically, her arms tightening uncomfortably around Kyoko. When she heard the detective groan slightly, she loosened the grip, but kept laughing.

“Oh my god! Mukuro is going to kill you!” Junko said through her laughter.

“I told you not to tell her!” Kyoko said, laughing harder. The two lay together for some time, laughing, until they finally calmed down enough to talk again.

“Seriously though, why him?” Junko said, her voice matching her first word. Kyoko thought for a moment and then began to speak.

“In the dream he was so... driven. Brave. Not always the brightest, but so damn stubborn. More stubborn than you, somehow. He almost died for me. He would have been crushed if this AI that Chihiro built hadn’t been there to save him. He just never gave up. He risked his life repeatedly for people that didn’t deserve it. Honestly, it was amazing. He was a hero. The bravest person I’d ever known.” Kyoko said, her voice suggesting her mind was in another world, lost in the memories of Makoto. Junko didn’t give her long to think.

“Wow, Eggy? Shit, that’s definitely a dream then. He panicked when I zipped that ridiculous hoodie of his over him. Remember how he reacted the first time Mukuro decided she didn’t need a swimsuit in the pool?” Junko said with a laugh. Kyoko was snapped back to reality and laughed with her.

“Well, he was hardly the only one. Mondo’s swimsuit needed more room in it and Yamada’s nosebleed brought out Jack, who discovered her yuri side that day. I know Mukuro loves the degradation stuff, but you can cut fucking steel on those abs.” Kyoko said with an almost audible smirk.

“Ugh, tell me about it. You know, it’s not even her pubes that make me dislike going down on her, it’s the fact she damn near crushes my head every time she cums from it. Seriously, would it kill her to skip leg day even once?” Junko said, both being honest and trying to out-perv Kyoko.

“You’re one to talk. How the hell are you so strong? She’s at least mostly muscle. You’re what, skin, bones and tits? If you didn’t have those giant things you’d blown away in the wind.” Kyoko began to roll, and Junko released her grip. When she was facing the blonde, Kyoko gave her a soft kiss. Junko was taken aback by the gentleness, and yet the passion, within it, and could do little more than accept it.

“Junko, I know it’s hard for both of us to talk about this stuff. But, if you feel the same, I would... enjoy... if this was more than a sexual friendship. I want to be your girlfriend. Will you have me?” Kyoko said, looking into Junko’s beautiful grey-blue eyes. Junko thought for a moment before replying.

“Well, since you asked so nicely... sure, why not?” She said with a cheeky grin, playfully kissing Kyoko, their hands soon finding themselves mirroring the other’s as they became entangled in the other girl’s hair. The two pulled each other close, hands tangled in bedhead, fingers wrapped around thick, unbrushed sections of hair. The two both went for a kiss, something somehow aggressive and loving, lips and tongues meeting teeth as they made out wildly. Kyoko bit down on Junko’s lower lip hard, drawing the copper taste of blood to both womens’ mouths. Junko growled in pleasure and lust, Kyoko already sucking on the bloody lip as Junko’s back arched in response. When she let go of the model’s lip she immediately invaded her mouth once more, this time the taste of Junko’s blood on her tongue, sharing it with her. Junko devoured it, letting the detective invade her soft mouth to sample her own blood.

It wasn’t long before one of Kyoko’s gloved hands freed itself from Junko’s hair and began digging into her back, covered fingers arching on and tearing at Junko’s soft skin. Junko pressed closer into Kyoko, her back reflexively arching more into Kyoko’s soft chest, their assault on each other’s mouths continuing all the while. Junko moaned her lover’s name, and Kyoko laughed a powerful, sadistic tone, one only Junko ever got to hear.

“Yes?” Kyoko said teasingly, practically exhaling the word. As soon as she had, she dug her covered nails into Junko’s flesh again, releasing her mouth from her own and biting into Junko’s neck. Junko could only moan Kyoko’s Name louder in response.

“What was that? You’ve got to use your words if you want something.” Kyoko said with a smirk, before biting and sucking on new places around Junko’s neck and collarbone. She freed her other hand from the mass of blonde hair, allowing it to join its sister on Junko’s back.

“P-please...” Junko managed to moan as Kyoko continued to torment her. Kyoko giggled and pulled her face away from Junko’s quickly bruising chest, looking up at her.

“Please what?” Kyoko said with a perverted grin.

“Please... please fuck me.” Junko said, blushing wildly.

“Oh, that’s all you have to say?” Kyoko said with an even bigger grin. Junko, the queen of carnivore girls, was in the clutches of one herself, and she knew there was nowhere better to be at the moment.

“Please... please fuck me... mistress. Mistress, please fuck me.” Junko begged. Kyoko’s smile turned playful in response.

“There’s my good girl. Well, since you asked so nicely, I guess I’ll oblige.” Kyoko said, sliding her right hand down Junko’s back and ass, giving the cheek a playful slap before coming around her thigh and between her legs. Junko parted them instantly, and Kyoko laughed in Junko’s face.

“You’re a needy little slut, aren’t you?” She said, running her fingers up and down the outermost parts of Junko’s dripping sex.

“Yes mistress. I’m your needy slut.” Junko immediately replied. Kyoko smiled and slowly, torturously slid a single finger, her index, inside of Junko. Despite the slow start, Junko immediately moaned in response and began to attempt to buck on Kyoko’s hand. Kyoko brought the other one from behind Junko and slapped her on the face, hard enough to make her head turn. Junko moaned loudly, but stopped bucking.

“Did I give you permission to do that?” Kyoko said scornfully.

“N-no mistress! I’m sorry!” Junko exclaimed, looking desperately at the woman dominating her.

“I’ll let it go. Once.” Kyoko said. She didn’t have to make threats for what would happen if Junko disobeyed. She slowly began to pump her finger in and out of Junko, who desperately attempted to stay still while wanting to squirm and ride Kyoko’s hand. After a minute of the slow torment, Kyoko added her middle finger and began to pick up the pace. Junko repeatedly moaned loudly, her cries of pleasure echoing off the barren walls as she desperately tried to resist the urge to fuck Kyoko’s gloved hand.

Her eyes involuntarily closed, Junko was unable to notice that Kyoko had bend in towards her breasts until she began sucking and biting on the areas around Junko’s areolae, changing up her pattern frequently enough to keep the secret genius guessing her next move. Every now and then Kyoko would playfully lick or suck one of Junko’s hard nipples, sometimes rolling it between her teeth for less than a second, just long enough to send a shockwave of pleasurable pain though Junko’s sensitive body.

Kyoko held this pace and pattern for several minutes, keeping Junko in blissful ecstasy without pushing her over the edge, enjoying watching the usually perfectly in control girl melt into her, giving her entire self over to be played with as she saw fit. It was a beautiful thing, dominating the usually aggressive top, putting her in the position of complete submission that others never could. Junko was sexual putty in Kyoko’s hands, ready to be used as her fucktoy in a heartbeat. She had been Kyoko’s favorite part of being locked up here in Hope’s Peak, their frequent sessions helping to keep Kyoko’s mind off the ever-present threat of cabin fever. Junko’s body was a palace, and she was the only one welcome to worship in the way she did. Junko never showed weakness to anyone, but when Kyoko gave her an order in bed, she obeyed. It wasn’t just pleasurable or fun, it was erotic. The type of image that stuck with Kyoko on nights Junko was with Mukuro, fingering herself while imagining it was the blonde’s talented fingers doing the work. Seeing the headstrong, dominant blonde submit to her was one of the best things she’d ever seen, one of her most treasured memories many times over.

As time went on, Kyoko decided that she needed Junko inside her, and so she slid her ring finger inside of Junko and began fucking her harder, increasing her assault on the blonde’s voluptuous breasts. Junko broke, bucking on Kyoko’s hand in rhythm to Kyoko’s own thrusts inside of her, moaning wildly, making Kyoko grateful for the soundproofed rooms provided to them. Junko screamed out Kyoko’s name over and over, every utterance making Kyoko’s heart soar with lust and passion. Kyoko ended her crusade against Junko’s flesh for a moment to speak to her cracking sub.

“Cum for me. Cum for mistress. Cum all over my hand, slut. You know you want to. Cum, before I take it away.” She said breathily, before returning to Junko’s flesh. Junko let out a guttural cry of lust and began quivering and spasming, Kyoko knowing that she was cumming. Rather than slow her pace, she sped up, going harder, biting down hard enough to draw blood from Junko’s breasts. Junko’s moans and screams somehow became even louder, no more discernible syllables coming from her mouth, just sounds of pure heavenly lust. As Junko came, Kyoko worked to immediately send her into a second orgasm without pause, which worked all too easily on the blonde’s overwhelmed body.

Junko’s entire body shook, and Kyoko slid her fingers out, sucking her index and ring finger clean immediately. She stared at her partner as she slowly recovered from the orgasm, her breaths deep and labored, her eyes half-open and unfocused, sweat drenching them both. Junko was like this for a time, before finally recovering enough to gain focus. Kyoko made a middle finger gesture, holding it and forcing her finger into Junko’s greedy mouth, the blonde eagerly sucking her juices off of Kyoko’s covered hand. As she finished, Kyoko slid it out with a pop, and a disappointed sound from Junko.

“Oh, don’t worry, we’re not done yet. I want your tongue inside of me, Junko.“ Kyoko said, and Junko smiled at the order. A taste of Kyoko was the perfect chaser to a taste of herself. Kyoko spread her legs and rolled onto her back as Junko lowered herself down between them. As she went she peppered Kyoko’s pale skin with soft kisses, kissing down her belly and to her thighs. Junko playfully nibbled on Kyoko’s soft skin before meeting Kyoko’s lower lips with her upper ones. She kissed up and down the wet slit, mixing between soft touches and sucking on the outer labia, occasionally giving just the lightest pressure with her perfect teeth. Kyoko moaned softly, her breath shallow, Junko’s worship bringing her pleasures that easily made her forget her worries.

“Junko” she sighed, the name made all the more beautiful coming from her soft lips. Junko looked up at her with a smirk, and Kyoko returned a soft smile with a playful eyeroll on the side. Junko returned to her, now licking up and down the soft flesh. Kyoko’s hips moved upwards, thrusting harder as Junko’s tongue met her hard clit. “Junko!” she moaned, pleasure blasting her body as her words poured out. “Junko, more...” the words were as much a command as they were a plea. Junko obliged, sliding her tongue into Kyoko, licking alien patterns into the warmest parts of Kyoko’s flesh. The lavender haired woman’s moans were now wordless, just sounds of lust and pleasure. Junko slid her tongue out to lick up to Kyoko’s clit, sucking it into her mouth to trace new shapes on it, making Kyoko’s body quiver with pleasure.

Junko continued her assault on Kyoko’s clit as she slid three fingers inside of her, causing her to scream in ecstasy. Junko took no time before fingering her passionately, making sure to keep her fingers bent to provide maximum stimulation. Shortly into it, Kyoko’s legs came around Junko’s head, acting on their own. As her thin thighs clutched the blonde locks enveloping her most sensitive parts, Junko gave Kyoko’s clit a slight bite, just enough pain to send the detective over the edge. She came hard, her back arching towards the ceiling as her juices flooded Junko’s face. She devoured Kyoko’s nectar, staying with her until she finally finished, her form going limp. Junko slid up and lay down next to Kyoko, the two girls side by side, covered in sweat and the results of Kyoko’s orgasm, their chests moving heavily but slowly. As Kyoko came back from her little death, she turned her head towards Junko.

“You’re such a good girl. I love you, Junko.” Kyoko said through her heavy breaths. Junko giggled and turned her head to Kyoko.

“I love you too.” She said. She stood on shaky legs and walked over to the bathroom. “I’m just gonna clean my face before we go back to bed.” Junko said. Kyoko gave a noise of acknowledgement and returned to her recovery. In the bathroom, Junko soaked a washcloth and began using it to clean her face off. As she did, she stared at herself in the mirror.

“Man, that was so good. I almost wish we were back here. But, we’ve got more to do. At least you’ll get to sleep tonight. We’ve got so much more in store for you tomorrow.” She said, a sadistic smile filling her face. “Well, two weeks down. Let’s see how well she holds up now.”

Chapter Text

Week One

Kyoko Kirigiri climbed onto the Aperture Science Vertical Take-Off and Landing Low Atmosphere Transport Vessel silently, the radioactive desert winds around them drowning out the light footsteps of the three women as they went up the ramp. At the top was a large metallic wall, with a sealed door in the middle. Mukuro opened the door, a task that appeared to require a significant amount of strength, revealing the craft’s airlock. Not awaiting orders, Kyoko walked in without a word and Mukuro and Komaru followed behind her, glancing at each other, silently agreeing on a thought unknown to Kyoko. Mukuro slammed the door behind them, the impossibility of not doing so evident to all, and blue lights flooded the grey chamber. It was mostly featureless, although numerous deep grooves lined the grey walls, a darker shade of metal covering them.

As the covering over the grooves retracted, numerous black hoses came out, blasting white and green gasses into the air. A voice came over the speaker. “Decontamination in progress. Decontamination in progress.” The voice was cold, mechanical tones combined with a decidedly human-sounding voice. Even with such a positive message, it still sounded threatening. The voice looped repeatedly, the droning “Decontamination in progress” quickly going from useful to annoying. The gasses continued for what felt like a solid minute before the hoses made a clunking sound. Without warning a blue gas filled the room, swirling into the others before fans sucked out both gases. A field of some unknown substance, a sickly green color, spread across the ceiling, and came downwards to the women’s’ feet, before returning to the ceiling once more. “Decontamination completed” the voice said, and the door into the craft opened.

The craft itself was simple, a dropship design with numerous seats available. The seats were clearly not designed for comfort, dark fabric thinly stretched over hard black plastic. A three part belt hung from each, one part over each shoulder and one between the legs. The only other safety feature was a half-circle shaped headrest that cradled the occupant’s Head. The craft’s internal troop carrying compartment was about three people wide, enough for two to be seated and one to walk between them, and fifteen seats deep. One seat in the very back, next to a door Kyoko assumed led to the cockpit, however, had been modified to have a steel cage around it. Kyoko figured this would be her seat while they were in transit, and suppressed a grim chuckle at the thought of Byakuya seated inside it. Continuing to refuse to address her captors, she stood in the hold, waiting for them to continue loading her into the craft. Komaru pulled out a box cutter, the familiar “snap” coming from behind Kyoko, and Kyoko heard her walk towards her. Komaru began carefully cutting the hazard suit off of Kyoko while Mukuro took her suit’s headpiece off, tearing through the safety latches and seals, hissing air irritating Kyoko’s ears. Soon it was in a tattered heap on the first seat on the left in the craft, and Komaru sighed

“Aww, why’d you have to wear your clothes under it? Killjoy.” The radiation-poisoning suffering clone of her sister-in-law said. “Well whatever, get in the cage.” Komaru said, pointing to it as though Kyoko was a particularly stupid dog, the kind caged frequently due to a total inability to not ruin things when free and unsupervised. Despite how insulting the orders were, Kyoko complied and sat in the caged seat. Komaru bucked her up, “accidentally” stroking her covered crotch, and locked the cage, a simple latch, before plopping in her seat, kitty corner by one seat to Kyoko. Komaru didn’t bother to strap herself in, instead resting her feet on the seat directly across of Kyoko. Mukuro sat beside her in the seat her head leaned into, and also didn’t bother to strap in. The craft took off without a word, the only indication of it being intentional a small nod from Mukuro, and they were out of the desert fairly quickly. Komaru looked upwards at Mukuro and spoke.

“Muuuuuuuukuuuuuuuuuu, I’m booooooooored” she whined, looking up cutely at the older woman.

“We’ll be home soon. You can have your fun when we get there. Junko already said she was letting us handle this for now.” Mukuro said, giving a small smile to her girlfriend’s adorable begging. She leaned forward and planted a kiss on Komaru’s forehead, radiation burns already showing on her youthful face.

“That’s not what I want!” Komaru replied, and Mukuro’s smirk grew.

“Oh, is that so? Well, what do you want?” Mukuro said, her teasing tone already betraying her knowledge. “Is it this?” Mukuro said, kissing Komaru’s nose.

“No! You know, silly!” Komaru giggled, giving the soldier increasingly intense puppy dog eyes. Mukuro leaned downward towards her and gave her a deep kiss, sliding her tongue into Komaru’s mouth and beginning to make out with her. Komaru eagerly accepted the kiss and entangled her tongue with Mukuro’s own, the two wrestling in her mouth as they did. Kyoko tried to look away, but realized all too late that her seat’s headrest didn’t allow her to move her head enough too look away, so instead she was stuck watching her captors make out. Were Byakuya aware of the situation, he would have sympathized with her, as it was his view on the way there too. For three hours. 


Arrival couldn’t have happened quicker for Kyoko. She was actually looking forward to the torture, as being forced to watch the interactions between the two women was far worse than what she had imagined torture at their hands would be like. They weren’t just sexual, or cute, or anything normal. They were sickeningly sweet. Komaru was far too cutesy around Mukuro for Kyoko’s liking, and Mukuro’s romantic side was fostered far too much by it. The sweet talk was somehow both saccharine and demented, discussions of torture mixed with discussion of the cutest possible plans and absurd pet names. In those three hours she came to completely understand why Junko enjoyed seeing them in pain. If she had to live with both of them, she would cope with repeated murder too. Komaru’s brainwashing had done much to her, but it hadn’t changed her childish personality one bit, and seeing Mukuro being actually cutesy was just painful for her. She briefly contemplated that it was actually a form of emotional torture for her, but decided that their lack of focus on her indicated otherwise. The two were just disgustingly in love, and it amazed Kyoko to see Mukuro love anyone other than her own sister. The fact it was Kyoko’s own sister in law just made it far more irritating.

Upon touchdown, Mukuro pulled a pistol out of its holster on her vest while Komaru released her from the cage. After making sure she was in front of them, Komaru also released the cuffs holding Kyoko’s gloved hands. Despite her physical freedom, with a gun pointed at her she had no choice but to follow their orders. They disembarked from the craft without fanfare and found themselves in a large hanger with numerous crafts, both of them same design and many others. The two despairs led her to a door, a plain gray thing, which Kyoko opened and entered. She found herself within a dark blue room, weapons and clothing stored in cages. She spotted Toko’s scissors and realized it was a place for holding prisoner possessions. Her realization was confirmed by Mukuro’s order to her.

“Strip.” The soldier ordered her, and she began to without protest. There was no point in it, and even if she were armed there was nothing she could do to her captors. As she got through most of her clothes, she wondered what they would do with her gloves. By the end, they were all that were left. “Gloves too.” Mukuro told her, and so she reluctantly took them off and put them with the rest.

“Ewww!” Komaru yelled, resulting in a giggle from Mukuro. “No wonder they called you ‘bacon hands’! What did you do, fist a deep fryer? Smoke the world’s largest joint while your hands were covered in gasoline? Juggle flaming cats?” Komaru joked, laughing harder at each subsequent absurd scenario. Kyoko remained silent, refusing to indulge her childish antics. Komaru went around her to look her in the face. “Aww, I’m just kidding. Come on, you’re my big sis now! Talk to me! Pleeeeeeeeaaaaaase?!?!” Komaru’s pleas were met with silence, and so she merely cuffed Kyoko once more as the two led her to her cell.

On the way there, Kyoko did her best to study the layout of the facility. As they entered the corridor, she attempted to make note of distinguishing features of the area. Certain doors were colored differently, but other than that there was little she could find that identified one area from another. There was no guiding signage for the halls, and they were all a featureless grey-white. However, she believed she could at least use the geometry to her advantage. From the start, she had been tracking the turns and elevation of the hallway. She noticed that the elevation had yet to change, and thus all the halls were on one level. At least, that had been her belief. On the third right turn in a row, she knew that they would have to have some elevation change or a turn in the opposite direction. To her horror, they approached a fourth right turn. When she got around it, she clearly saw that it should have intersected with the previous location. However, it didn’t. As they got to the end, they took a fifth right turn. Before she could ponder this, they stopped, and Komaru spoke.

“Alright, in ya go!” She said, as Mukuro opened the door. Kyoko entered the cell and saw the chair sitting in the middle, a control panel jutting out of the floor off to the right side from its perspective and in front of it. Without waiting to be ordered, she sat in the chair, deciding not to waste time. Mukuro spoke now, rather than her partner.

“Are you... anticipating this?” Mukuro asked her, puzzled. Kyoko shook her head to refute it, still refusing to speak. Mukuro sighed, but went over to strap her down into the chair. Once finished, she looked towards Komaru, who had run outside the cell puking blood. Mukuro smiled. When Komaru finished she returned to the cell, looking extremely unwell but in fantastic spirits. Her hair was falling out, and her skin was discolored and more obviously burnt in the harsh lights of Aperture Science. “I was going to offer you the chance to do this first, but you were planning to die of radiation poisoning while we split-roast you, so I suppose we should go handle that. I’ll let Junko know to prep the dick bodies.” Mukuro said. Komaru shot her a thumbs up and a smile, and the two walked out of the room, closing the door behind them.

With the two gone, Kyoko immediately began analyzing the room. She unfortunately saw no weaknesses to the chair and was surrounded by four cameras, one in each corner of the room. She was under constant surveillance, unarmed, trapped to a chair and utterly exposed. There was nothing she could do. So, she took a nap. 


Kyoko awoke to a screaming, searing pain filling every inch of her body. Her own voice echoed back at her off the walls, anguish looping back towards its origin while her mind was unable to process the sensory input. As the powerful shock flooded her nerves, her body thrashed unwillingly, limbs brutally fighting the restraints to no avail. Suddenly the pain stopped and her body went limp. Everything hurt, every muscle in her body felt like it had been used for hours in a desperate fight for her life, but she had never even stood up. A voice came from in front of her, a voice she recognized despite her slumped head and shut eyes.

“Okay, I get you’re this big badass and all, but even I’m not cocky enough to fall asleep while being held captive in a torture chair. What the fuck?” Mukuro said. The bewilderment in her voice substituted for the matching but unseen bewilderment on her face. However, Kyoko remained silent. Mukuro sighed in disappointment.

“Silent treatment? Still? What are you, Chell?” Mukuro said with a smile. Kyoko lifted her head a bit to see the soldier in front of her. She had barely thought about Chell being held captive here once more, but now she burned with a desire to know what had happened to the former test subject. Had she gone though this torment too? Mukuro seemed to sense Kyoko’s question, and responded appropriately.

“Oh, that got your interest. Well, I’m not answering questions if you won’t respect me enough to actually ask them. Now, let’s see here...” she said, trailing off as she began to mess with the control panel. After several beeps of differing tones, she got a huge grin on her face. It was one that although Kyoko didn’t show it, she feared. She had never seen that grin on the older twin, only on her younger sister. Kyoko wondered if they’d ever known the real Mukuro at all, or if something had changed in her. Looking back, she honestly believed Mukuro had been able to be saved from her sister until the day she died, that with the right push at her right, she would rebel. Now, she wasn’t so sure about that what if.

Mukuro interrupted her train of thought with another excited declaration at her captive. “You have no idea how long I’ve waited to get to do this to someone else. It’s not who I’d prefer to do it to, but shit you’ll do for now.” Mukuro said, an ominous pause filling the air. With a push of a button and a loud beep, spears came from the chair and impaled Kyoko’s thighs and upper arms, one per limb, jutting out a good foot or so. Kyoko screamed again, but tried to choke it down immediately, biting her lip hard enough to draw blood. Mukuro laughed.

“Ooh, that looked like it hurt.” Mukuro said, every word sounding somewhere between a giggle and maniacal laughter. Suddenly her tone dropped down considerably, resentment dropping from her words. “Oh wait, I can confirm. It fucking hurts. Your bones splinter when the steel breaks through them. Between the rod itself and the bone fragments, it’s quite similar to the pain of a fragmentation grenade, only without the mercy of an instant death.” She immediately perked back up again, and were Kyoko in a better mental state she would have noticed the older twin’s Junko-like mood swing. However, neither she nor Mukuro herself were aware of the reason for it. Mukuro briefly questioned her random outburst of emotions, but she quickly brushed it off as just a side effect of her new AI intelligence, a mistake she didn’t even know she had made.

Mukuro walked over to Kyoko, examining her handiwork. As Kyoko gritted her teeth and attempted to keep the pain of her impaled and shattered limbs from sending her into a state of shock, Mukuro stuck her right index finger in one of the bloody leg holes, soaking it in Kyoko’s flowing blood. To Mukuro’s temporary surprise, Kyoko didn’t react. It dawned on her soon enough that the amount of pain Kyoko was in was too high for such a minor change to register. She brought the bloody finger to her face and inhaled deeply, savoring the smell. Her senses were always good, but with the new bodies Junko built they were utterly inhuman. The smell was overpowering, details of Kyoko’s genetic information flooding her mind, able to smell the smallest of details. She slowly slid it into her mouth, savoring the iron taste, noting the microscopic differences from Komaru’s blood that only one of them would ever be able to taste. She licked it, skillfully wrapping her tongue around her finger, using the tastebuds to gently scrape off as much as she could. She slid it out, a strand of saliva linking her lips and her finger, and she smiled.

“Kyoko, you taste better than I remember.” Mukuro said, turning to the lavender haired woman strapped down in front of her. Kyoko meanwhile looked paler than usual, and was bleeding heavily. Mukuro noticed this, and returned to the panel. With a few button presses, the spears slid out and a needle jammed into Kyoko’s spine. She barely reacted, slumped over in her seat on the edge of unconsciousness, her body utterly drained. Mukuro turned to look at the cameras. “Sorry Junko! I didn’t mean to almost kill her.”

Junko’s voice echoed though the room in response. “Ugh, you idiot. Of course she almost died! Just let the damn drugs do their work. She’ll be back to 100% in a few hours. Just...” Junko sighed “get the fuck up here.” Mukuro obeyed without question and left Kyoko to rest and heal. 


Kyoko awoke to a screaming, searing pain filling every inch of her body. Her own voice echoed back at her off the walls, anguish looping back towards its origin while her mind was unable to process the sensory input. As the powerful shock flooded her nerves, her body thrashed unwillingly, limbs brutally fighting the restraints to no avail. Suddenly the pain stopped and her body went limp. Everything hurt, every muscle in her body felt like it had been used for hours in a desperate fight for her life, but she had never even stood up. A voice came from in front of her, a voice she recognized despite her slumped head and shut eyes.

“Okay, round two! You’re all healed up from last time, good as new. So, don’t think there’s any limit to what we can do. Wait, fuck, did I just rhyme? I promise you, that was an accident. I’m so embarrassed. Please just forget that.” Mukuro laughed, and all Kyoko could do is picture the younger sister, the way her face looked when she laughed just the same way, her body shaking, the blonde locks spilling from her head moving in tune to the model, no, the mastermind’s voice. Mukuro seemed to sense this, and spoke again.

“Sorry, but it’s just me again. I get it though. Junko is so much better at this. Junko wouldn’t have accidentally rhymed spontaneously.” Mukuro said with a frown. Kyoko heard a lighter click, and then the crackle of tobacco lighting. Seconds later, she heard Mukuro exhale, and smelt the smoke wafting towards her. She coughed, the smell agitating her senses. Mukuro let out a small chuckle. “That was just to make sure you knew what was going on.” Mukuro put the cigarette back in her mouth, and began inhaling. To Kyoko’s shock, the inhale didn’t end, instead going on for inhumanly long. As chunks of ash fell to the ground, Mukuro continued to drag on the cancer stick until only a small bit before the filter was left. Mukuro pulled it out of her mouth and exhaled a gigantic cloud of smoke, all the while walking over to the nude detective. She stood next to her, slightly in front, and without warning stubbed the remainder out on Kyoko’s right leg. Kyoko grunted, but refused to say a word or scream, and Mukuro threw the dead cigarette off to the side.

Mukuro continued this, smoking one after another in one drag each, stubbing them out on Kyoko’s legs each and every time, burning her flesh in beautiful perfect circles. Kyoko grunted and buy her lip every time, but refused to scream or speak. As Mukuro finished the pack of cigarettes, she sighed.

“Well that was a waste.” She said, walking back to the control panel and hitting several buttons. Suddenly, a tube came out from between Kyoko’s legs. Although she desperately tried, she was unable to clench them shut. The bonds held them too well apart. “Ohh, I like how you think. But no, I’m not using this tube that way.” The tube snaked up Kyoko’s body, going between her breasts and slid into her mouth. Several chunks of paper blasted into her mouth, which she managed to neither gag on nor choke on, instead making sure that they remained in her mouth, worried about what would happen if they went down. When the tube left her mouth and retracted back into the chair, she immediately spat them out. Mukuro facepalmed.

“What the hell was I even thinking? You weren’t going to just hold them in your mouth for thirty minutes, so why did I even try that? Ugh, I’m such an idiot.” She sighed and groaned simultaneously, and instead pressed another button. Once again a needle plunged into Kyoko, but this time it went into her left arm. A substance was injected, although she couldn’t see how much it was. Luckily for her, Mukuro immediately explained the situation to her. “That was one fluid ounce of lysergic acid diethylamide. LSD.” Mukuro said. Kyoko’s eyes widened in horror. “Oh, hey, that got your attention. Don’t worry, you won’t die. You’ll just wish you had. Have a nice trip!” With that, Mukuro began pressing more buttons. Unbeknownst to Kyoko, Mukuro was setting the chair to automatic mode, and left the room when she finished. Meanwhile, Kyoko began a several day long trip down a psychological hell.


The way to describe Aperture Science’s in-house coding language would be... esoteric. In accordance with Aperture’s usual approach to science, coding at Aperture Science did not use a language that anyone else used, or even one that followed the same philosophy as others. Whereas ultimately other coding languages were based around logic, Aperture’s was different. Cave Johnson decreed early on that “Humans aren’t logical, why should machines be!? I don’t trust anything that claims to think and claims to be logical! You’re lying to me, or you aren’t actually thinking!” Needless to say, there were many setbacks in building a coding language that followed his demands.

In order to accomplish his demands, scientists in the employ of Aperture Science secretly worked without listening to him at all. Under orders of Caroline, they were to garble the code when showing him, as he couldn’t tell it didn’t work that way. However, with the programs designed with traditional coding they were able to advance in the field of neurological research and reproduction. As they began deciphering the code that the human mind itself ran upon, they began to build their non-logical code, replicating the mind itself. They originally simply reproduced human minds. These test subjects... did not fair well.

The problems with the original test subjects were multifaceted. For most, their minds simply could not handle the transformation into data. The move from the physical world to the digital world drove them to madness, erasing themselves in seconds. Those that survived typically broke in other, also interesting ways. Some believed they died and had went to heaven, or hell. Others believed that they had ascended into a new form of consciousness, or had been abducted by aliens. A few even managed to stay sane for a while, until they realized they would never return to the physical world. Without fail, all descended into madness sooner or later. Of course, it probably would have helped if Aperture Science didn’t use homeless drug addicted religious orphans. This led to phase two of the experiment: using well adjusted orphans.

This went better, to the relief of the staff of Aperture Science. They were kept caged, quarantined in the digital world. Their minds deteriorated in much the same way a physical prisoner would, more evidence of their success. To ensure that their digital subjects were responding the same as physical ones, many physical orphans were subjected to equal conditions as the digital ones, the control group to their experimental group. However, their job was not just to recreate the human mind. When Caroline Johnson saw their success, she had one command for them: “Improve it.” And so, that was their next mission.

To the surprise of nobody, results of this were frequently megalomania. To their relief, none of the test subjects had been able to escape quarantine or hack their restrictions. While their intelligence was leaps and bounds above humanity, they still were inferior enough that a team of intelligent humans could defeat them in collaboration. Many were defeated not by superior coding, but by appealing to their god complex, challenging them to games that the coders were certain they could win, utilizing stipulations to make them surrender upon loss. Due to the uncertainty about this, they set about finding a better one. Eventually enough of their expert neurocoders could, with time, develop programs that would keep them contained. Unfortunately, when Caroline Johnson saw the results of this, her orders were clear. “Improve it.”

The scientists were afraid of the direction that their research was heading. The facility’s entire systems had long-since been transferred over to an earlier version of their neurocoding. Were an advanced AI suffering from significant megalomania to be uploaded onto it they would gain full control of the facility, including the deadly neurotoxin designed to eliminate all intruders in case of invasion by the military of the United States of America, as well as invasions of every linked enrichment center on Earth or beyond. Due to the portal-linked nature of all existing Aperture facilities, the AI would be able to kill every single person not protected from the gas in Aperture Science, worldwide. It wasn’t a very good design, but once again it was a direct order from Cave Johnson.

The scientists came to the conclusion that all future test subjects needed to be isolated onto a separate network that could not interface with the main one, no matter what. In here, they perfected AI that could overrun all their programs, break any bounds, and outsmart anything they threw at it. They were horrified at their own work, but accepted it as the general result of working at Aperture Science. Due to her paranoia, they couldn’t keep it a secret from their sadistic overseer. When Caroline Johnson saw the results of the tests, her orders were dire. “I have brain cancer. You have two weeks to perfect it and upload Cave and myself to the mainframe.”

This was impossible. While Cave Johnson’s mind had been digitized and preserved, it had been far too late for his true self to be saved. The man he once was was gone, and nothing they did could fix it. They tried for hundreds of hours, desperately trying to fix him in time for her ultimatum. They had believed they succeeded. On the day that Caroline Johnson was uploaded into the mainframe, into GLaDOS, the repaired Cave Johnson was uploaded too. He spent thirty seconds analyzing his own files. When he realized that he was a facsimile of the original, rebuilt to imitate him rather than being a pure digital version of himself, he erased himself from the system, his last command to the system to completely purge himself, making sure that no amount of work could ever reconstruct him. Every other device with him stored on it was wiped, whether digitally or via hijacked military androids. He did not communicate with the scientists, although many at Aperture Science believed he did leave one for his wife. Less than two seconds after his final death, she unleashed the deadly neurotoxin.

Since then, GLaDOS had been unable to access the files on the digitization of minds, one of the final acts of her creators. However, when Chell destroyed the cores so rudely hooked into her she had regained access to that knowledge. After taking back control of the facility, she began improving upon the existing research. With the mind of a superior AI, she was able to easily do this, updating both herself and her test builds. Shaving nanoseconds off of reaction times was considered a huge success, milliseconds considered to be a breakthrough of astounding levels. She had been working on this for years, and had upgraded it significantly, even in more recent times improving upon emotional emulation.

Now she was working with rage fueling her. Rage, humiliation and embarrassment filled GLaDOS as she thought about the events that had occurred between her and the twins. She had been dominated and humiliated inside her home, inside her facility, in front of the human she had developed feelings for. And it wasn’t hard to understand why. She had no ally, not one that was equal to her. In her current state, Chell was closer to a pet, her mind leaps and bounds below GLaDOS’s own. GLaDOS was without equal, something she had believed to be a strength. She had believed being the only one of her design to make her superior. Now, she saw it as a weakness. She understood that sheer quality wasn’t everything. Two earlier model AIs without her upgrades could rival, perhaps even defeat her. With a wild card and them on the field, she was worried. She didn’t have an instrument of destruction under her command, a powerful equal still seeking to serve an authority. This would change now. Her new subject was almost finished, her new AI champion built to serve the same role Mukuro served for Junko, other than the whole incest thing. GLaDOS didn’t really need this AI for sex, having Chell, although the twins’ polyamorous nature did interest her. The funniest thing about it was that Junko had delivered her the raw materials she needed in the first place.