Chapter Text
Damon hardly remembers waking.
After the last trial, he’d slept through days, woken up briefly, then collapsed again into sleep for the night.
A long, heavy sigh slips from his lips as Damon wipes his brow and pushes himself upright from where he sat leaning against the wall, limbs uncooperative and shaking. His eyes catch on the elaborately patterned wallpaper in front of him. His hands fumble for the carpeted floor, and he lever himself to his feet.
His balance sways as his gaze trails around the hallway.
Six murders. Six people left. In the desolate hallway, he counts the abandoned dorm rooms, the missing names, the quiet where voices once echoed.
“You look lost in thought,” says an easy, familiar voice.
Damon startles. Turning, he finds Desmond leaning against the wall beside his door, hands tucked into his pockets, that ever-charming smile of his etched in place.
“Not really,” Damon says numbly, brushing at the hem of his jacket. “Just… overwhelmed.”
“Yeah, I bet.” Desmond tilts his head. “Wanna… do something to take your mind off of things? We could grab some tea in the kitchen with Eloise if you’d like.”
Eloise is standing beside the marksman, their hands entwined. She has never looked at him so kindly.
She gives him a shy wave. “Hi, Damon.”
Damon almost accepts, but his mouth moves on its own accord, as if possessed by another life.
“I appreciate the offer, but I already have plans with Kai and the others.”
Before he can process what happened, Desmond gives him an easy smile. “Ha, all good. Well, don’t let me keep you—”
“Hands off him!”
Damon stiffens as Desmond jerks upright at the sound of his voice. Eloise looks confused for a brief second, but Damon is not. He’d know that valley-girl-adjacent accent anywhere, along with the associated well-meaning, idiotic demeanor. Knows it a little too well, at this point.
As expected, Kai promptly barrels in, aiming a wobbly kick at Desmond and missing. The marksman stumbles with a yelp, stunned and nearly tripping as he catches himself on the doorframe. Kai stands there with his arms crossed, glaring daggers.
“Stop trying to hit on poor Damon!” he declares.
“I… wasn’t hitting on him. I have a girlfriend?” Desmond says, bewildered, and it breaks Damon from his stupor. Eloise clutches him worryingly. “I didn’t even touch him."
“Sure, dude,” Kai snaps, rolling his gold eyes. He jabs a finger towards the Ultimate Marksman. “I know what you did. Acting all polite and friendly until you go all crazy and—!”
Damon is only marginally shocked. It’s not the most surprising thing in the world, his thoughts floating and mildly detached. Of course, if Desmond and Eloise are here, why wouldn’t Kai find him too?
Damon isn’t sure when his thoughts went from ‘tired tired tired’ to ‘Kai is here Kai is safe Kai is alive’, but, you know – not an uncommon occurrence at this point, as much as he hates to admit it. And honestly, he’s desperate not to care at this point. His friends seem all right. He is all right. Kai is all right.
So when Kai grins and launches himself at Damon, he doesn’t hesitate to return the embrace, spinning them both around as he locks his arms firmly around the influencer’s sweater. Damon feels Kai’s pulse thrumming between them, a current that jumpstarts his own heartbeat.
“Kai,” Desmond interrupts, sharper now. “Seriously, don’t give Damon the wrong idea. I told you I’m not that kinda guy.”
“I don’t want to hear that from the dude who tried to get everyone else killed, beat up Damon, and said Toshiko deserved it!”
Desmond winces, as if in physical pain, and his shoulders sag. “I apologized for that. I wasn’t sane.”
“W-well… still…!” Kai clenches his fists, fumbling for ground. “That doesn’t mean I trust you! I-it’s not like I’m jealous you got to hang out with Damon for one more month than I did! He–”
“Y’all ain’t fighting, are ya?”
Ingrid’s voice cuts through the bickering, cheery and bright, Toshiko skipping merrily by her side. The sight of the little matchmaker makes something blade-sharp ache in his chest, but Damon can’t remember why. What was it?
Ingrid walks into the lobby, her smile radiant as ever.
“Now ain’t the time for blame, but joy! This is a time of celebration, after all!”
Damon blinks as the others nod like it’s the most natural thing in the world. “Celebration? For… what?”
“For ending the killing game, of course!” Toshiko twirls once, kimono flaring out around her in a slow, impossible motion, like a flower blooming inside-out. “Thanks be to you, Mochi, we have finally reached salvation!”
Something cold twists in Damon’s stomach, but he pushes it away. Kai squeezes his hand, smiles.
“Ending… the game?”
“Indeed! It’s over now, isn't it? I am told that no more murders will happen, and everyone will be free to escape the academy!”
Toshiko reaches out and grabs Ingrid’s hands, spins once, laughing, and pushes across the lobby and out into the open air.
The courtyard is too warm for the mood, Damon thinks as he stumbles through the doors. The moonlight spilled across the grass. The foliage murmurs, but the space is alive with voices long-silenced.
He’s broken out of his stupor by Ingrid and Toshiko jogging back over to him, the latter nearly tackling him in a hug while Ingrid watches fondly. Toshiko is shouting in his ear, not quite prim and proper, but with an unbridled, childish joy.
“Ms. Kayura is right.” A nearby shadow on the ground quivers, and Wolfgang rises from it, looking tired and sallow. “It would appear Tozu and the Mastermind have been beaten at their own game.”
“By you, no less.”
A familiar rasp. Damon turns around with a jolt. Eva leans against the pergola in the middle of the courtyard. She exhales, her glasses fogged faintly by the night air. His chest squeezes with the sight. Eva Tsunaka – his first friend and enemy. The one who gave in to the temptation of the apple. Now he walks in the same shoes as she does.
“Looks like you did make it to the end, after all.”
Damon smirks – she is ever so stoic. “You almost sound proud.”
“Guess you knew how to deal with motives better than most of us did.” Her gaze drifts down, unreadable beneath her thick, dark bangs. “Bweh… you don’t have to rub it in my face.”
Deal with motives? His smile falters for a moment. Why were they praising him for something he’d yet to do? The moment Toshiko lets go, however, Eva strides over and latches onto Damon in a display of affection he would have never expected, arms tight around his shoulders.
“You don’t have to think about it. You did it, Damon.” Damon feels the last sentence punctuated by a tighter squeeze for a moment.
“Aye,” booms a voice from across the courtyard. Jean stomps over, his shadow stretching far across the grass. “As much as I dislike to admit it, Damon’s actions are admirable.” Wolfgang nods from the benches.
“Ah… the duality of truth,” Ulysses murmurs, voice low and measured. “One man despises him… Another exalts him. Both are correct. Such contradictions are the essence of humanity’s history, are they not?”
“...What?” Mark frowns at him, fidgeting with his beanie.
Ulysses tilts his head, the faintest trace of a smile hidden beyond his thick journal. “To embrace life and oneself is to embrace both its flaws and its beauty. Perhaps Damon embodies that essence better than most.”
Damon is just about to ask what he has done so well when other people are surrounding him, clapping him on the shoulder and smiling. Their presence is undeniably real, like they’d never been gone. And there’s an unquenchable buzz in the air.
It’s a celebration, and for the first time in months, Damon feels happy. So he allows himself to be swept up in the excitement, letting himself be pulled into warm embraces and familiar voices, grinning, joining in the horde of arms and smiles.
Still, he can’t stop himself from glancing at Eva, lingering at the edge of the group, as if waiting for him to approach her alone. The courtyard is quiet now as Damon walks toward the pergola where Eva stands.
“...I know you’re planning to use the perk on yourself.”
Damon’s eyes snapped to meet hers, surprised. Eva bit her lip, hesitant to continue. Her eyes had softened ever so slightly, in a way that most others wouldn’t be able to recognize. The way her eyebrows furrowed, that look of contemplation as she had some inner dialogue of some kind, trying to reason it out within herself that being this concerned for someone else was okay for her.
“Because… you can’t bear to become a murderer, right?”
Something faint yet familiar stirs in Damon’s chest at the regret in her voice.
Damon nods, and Eva’s shoes shuffle on the grass. She looks up again, a melancholy smile tugging at the corner of her lips. He still thinks it’s a good look on her.
“Since this is your choice… go on. We’ll be waiting for you, including her.”
Her?
In that stillness, he notices one last person already waiting for him in the pergola.
Cara Koskinen, the Ultimate Teacher’s Aide and the first body he ever saw, sits with her knees hugged close. Her red hair is the color of coral, running down her back in a smooth arc over her beige sweater, no longer stained from blood. She looks up. Her eyes are brown, wide, and kindly. It reminds him of Diana’s. Cara offers Damon a small, almost apologetic smile as she adjusts her skirt.
“…Is it really over, though?”
Her voice is an echoing harmony with the other students, reverberating through the courtyard. Maybe it’s because he doesn’t know what she sounds like.
“What do you mean?” asks Damon as she sits down beside her. He has a million questions to ask, about the academy’s secrets, about her past, about everything–
“I just… I feel like it never quite ends, no matter how many people say they’ll end it. Because…” Cara fidgets at the hem of her skirt.
“Because there are thousands of us Ultimates in the UTP, you know?”
Damon winces. The reminder rings like a bum note—sour and sharp, echoing in his chest. He’s tired of it.
“We thought we could end it, too.” Cara lets out a brittle laugh. “And look where that got us.”
She absently picks at a stray grass blade and twists it between her fingers.
“But… maybe this time will be different. The power of change can be infectious, sometimes… I've seen that... once before...”
Cara’s face flickers once, twice.
Don’t go; he wants to plead, panic suddenly filling his chest. Tell me what to do. What is right? What is wrong? I just want to go home…
Despite his wishes, Cara’s outline melts like ink bleeding through paper, dissolving into the night. He looks around, and his friends are no longer there.
They’re gone, leaving him alone once more.
“Damon.”
Damon’s eyes creak open, heavy and reluctant, as the familiar pink ceiling of Kai’s dorm slowly comes into focus. Everything is hazy until it isn’t. As he rubs the sleep from his eyes, a dull weight settles in his chest.
Right... the dorm. Damon absently wonders how he'd gotten back here, since his last memory had been in the courtyard.
Courtyard?
He jolts upright, suddenly wide awake, his brain catching up all at once with a sickening snap. Everything from the dream slams back into him. Wenona is in Cara’s place, reaching toward him, eyebrows crooked in mild concern. She is looking down at him from beside his bed, lips set in a thin line of resolve.
“W-Wenona?” He glances around. No one else is in the room.
There’s a pause.
“It’s time,” she nods.
Oh.
Damon tries to lift himself from the bed, but his arms give out under him. Wenona catches him before he can fall and heaves him upright with little effort. He finds the others extending a hand towards him more often, recently – all of them. Is his concern, his stress, so glaringly obvious that they feel obliged to feel pity? All of them already have plenty on their plate. He shouldn’t burden them, especially when he is about to–
As Damon walks towards the door, he takes one last look at the room. Kai’s room, in all its garish, pink, yet achingly familiar glory.
He’s been staying here ever since then, and Wenona has complied, much to his surprise. On the desk by the nightstand is a letter that he spent the last night revising and perfecting, through tears and guilt. He hopes that by the time this game is over, someone will find it and hand it to its recipients.
Damon’s only regret will be that he cannot give it himself.
The echoes of absent voices still linger in every corner, figures of the long-gone dancing and whispering around as they walk through the hallway, but no one else is around.
It had all happened so quickly.
After the 5th trial, the academy seemed to fall into collective lethargy: a cold, dense weariness, hopeless and silent. The pain, now almost familiar, was so viscous and all-consuming that he wished he could just stop feeling anything.
He would never let himself forget it, those haunting images. He could hardly believe that there was once a time, albeit brief, when he allowed himself to find hope, to trust in others so wholeheartedly. Damon knew it was the same for all the others.
A week after that, the morning announcement from Tozu the next day dazed everyone from their stupor: come to the dining hall for one last investigation and class trial.
Damon takes a deep breath and pushes the door to the dining hall open.
The room was silent save for the clinking of silverware and exhales of sleepless Ultimates. He scans the dining hall, entirely muffled by the events of the day prior. Grace stares at one of the paintings, hands on her hips, seemingly reminiscing. Cassidy lounges on one of the chairs with Jett by her side, and Diana stares morosely at a mug clasped in her hands. As they approached, Grace and Jett turned to face them.
“Oi,” Grace’s jaw is squared, her blue eyes unreadable, but she offers him a tight smile. “There you are.”
Jett walks forward and gives Damon the most solemn high-five – as solemn high-fives could get, really. He tries to offer one to Wenona, but she seizes his extended hand and gives him a firm shake instead. Cassidy bounds over and unexpectedly claps him on the back.
“Yooo! Bargain Bin!” She grins. “You made it!”
Grace, too, offers one calloused hand towards the entrepreneur, who takes it. She doesn’t quite shake; she only holds it in place.
Wenona’s narrow eyes stay glued to the golfer, one eyebrow raised. Is she annoyed? Nervous? Hesitant? Emotions are hidden behind an expression that is both stoic and soft as her gaze stays on the hand cradled in her own. They both say nothing.
Behind them, Diana sits, her nail polish chipped and peeling in places. Her hair is wet from the shower, and she’s also changed into a fresh uniform, but the rugged, broken exhaustion from earlier still lingers on her face as she glances up.
“Hi, Damon.” When she spoke, her voice was lower than usual, in both tone and volume, her smile weary.
Even the brief sound of Diana’s voice made Damon’s shoulders tense. His throat tightened, and he looked away quickly. He had been trying his best to avoid Diana as much as possible since the last trial. Damon knew that he couldn’t give Diana the same comfort she’d find in other members of the group – someone who could reassure her.
Of the remaining participants, if he were to ever take the perk, it would make sense for him to choose Diana as his secondary survivor. She was the youngest in the killing game and had already endured the most after everything that had happened with Wolfgang. It was perhaps the most understandable one if he were to evaluate the potential choices. Grace, for instance, would think the same – he knew that she would pressure him, threaten him, even to leave with Diana.
However, after evaluating the remaining participants in the killing game, Damon was certain he wouldn’t pick anyone. There was simply no way he could fathom it. It wasn’t that he considered anyone less deserving of being chosen by him, not at all – it was that not a single person was unworthy of survival.
Ever more the reason why he had to carry out his plan, no matter how much it scared him.
Suddenly, the dining hall was shrouded in darkness. Gasps echoed around him as Damon looked around, stunned.
“What the hell?!” Grace.
“Who is there?” Wenona.
“Everyone, stay still!” Jett.
Another blackout. Damon thought for a split second, the terror crashing down on him dizzily. Just like the boiler room. Was it another setup for a murder? A cruel joke from Tozu? Either way, would someone ambush him from the darkness and plunge a knife into his heart?
Maybe they were foolish to trust Tozu. Maybe he wasn’t going to give them a choice to escape at all: round them up and kill them. He was so gullible, so naive, and desperate. He wasn’t even given a chance to take on his plan to save the others.
How did he survive so far? Attempts on his life had been made multiple times. What miracle allowed it so he’d live? There’s no way such a lifeline should be offered to him here, not in the throes of the killing game. Damon felt like he was stranded in a dark ocean, unable to see an inch in front of him. He could almost feel someone’s arm tightening against his, like Kai had…
Then, he felt a soft weight pressing against his back. He wasn’t imagining it: someone was clinging to his arm.
“Who– who is this?” the person said tearfully.
Diana.
Damon could hear the faint sound of her choking back a sob as her hands fisted into his blazer. Of course. The concept of a blackout had to be even more terrifying for her than anyone else here.
“It’s me.” his voice sounded hoarse. Diana made a little gasp at his words. He thanked the darkness for a split second, so that no one else could see his expression.
“Di,” Grace called out from somewhere within the room, her voice trembling. “Just– Just stay there with him, okay? The lights will be back soon.”
The students clung to each other, silent and terrified, for what seemed like an eternity. Damon closed his eyes, clenching his jaw to prepare for whatever was to come.
The lights flickered back on, blinding everyone momentarily as their eyes were forced to adjust all of a sudden. Standing on top of the dining table was none other than Tozu.
“ACK!” Jett yelped, startled. Grace shrieked, knocking over a chair.
“Salutations.” Tozu’s voice is silky and low, more serious than ever.
“All that for a dramatic entrance?” Wenona steps forward, her voice sharp and angry.
Tozu chuckles dryly. “Ah, patience, Ms. Wenona. Eager for the announcement?”
They say nothing, breathing hard in alarm. The sense of urgency hangs in the air, and Damon can feel the weight of the last few days pressing in around them as he clenches his fist.
“No more preamble. Tell us exactly what to investigate for this final trial.” Damon’s mouth goes dry as he speaks first. “We’re frankly at a loss, especially since no one has died.”
“That is precisely right.” Tozu nods. “Now, for this investigation, my star students, there will be no lies – Just the cold, hard truth.”
“Tch– no lies, huh?” Grace scowls. “And why should we take your word for it after all the other shit you’ve done?”
“Oh, I will keep my word, Ms. Madison.” Humming, Tozu leans forward, hands folded behind his back. “I can assure you, I am simply here for your benefit.”
“Yep, not falling for that,” Cassidy mutters.
He chuckles, shoulders bouncing with the sound, then as quickly as it appeared, his cheery demeanor fades into an air of solemnity that makes Damon’s blood freeze.
“...In order to pass the graduation exam and escape this academy, you must answer three questions.” Tozu rocks back on his boots, his eyes gleaming a menacing red.
“Who killed Cara Koskinen, the Ultimate teacher’s aide?”
“What is the true nature of this academy?”
“Finally… Who is the mastermind?”
The air seems to collapse inward. Damon jolts upright. Diana’s hands fly to her chest, as if holding her heart still. Her eyes shimmer with terrible hope. “R-Really? Just that, and you’ll let us leave?”
“You have my word, my dears!” Tozu gives her a mock bow and spreads his arms. “With the courtesy of my utmost generosity, you are all free to investigate the entire campus, all at your leisure, without me or Mara’s intervention! I’ve hidden exclusive clues that may be your key. Be sure to find them all!”
Damon can practically see his grin splitting wider than the mask dividing his face as the captor chuckles.
“Consider it… a gift. A reward for thwarting the killing game for so long.”
“Then we should—we should start investigating right away, right?” Grace blurts, trying to drown out the shiver in her voice with false bravado.
“You can start whenever you please!” Tozu says. Then, with a sudden, malicious drop in tone, his smile twists jaggedly. “But you might wish to hurry, as it appears time is not exactly on everyone’s side…” Tozu’s gaze slides across the room—stopping on Damon. His heart sinks sickeningly.
“The more of you who make it to the trial, the better your odds of solving the mystery, after all!”
“Hold it.” Wenona raises a hand sharply, cutting Tozu off. “Do you mean Damon’s perk? How much time does he have left?”
“Hahaha…” The laugh builds in Tozu’s chest. “HAHAHAHAHA!”
Damon feels his breath come short – his friends can probably see how pale he is, the way his eyes dart against his will. He grips the table like it’s the only thing keeping her upright, hands flexing nervously against the edges.
“Well…” says Tozu. “...That is simply a part of the mystery you must solve in the trial.”
Damon lets out an exhale– it’s barely relief.
“So, you all better start searching!” Tozu claps his gloved hands together. “See you at the class trial, students! Good luck, pip-pip-cheerio!”
“Wait!” Diana blurts, leaning forward. “I still have a—”
A whoosh of a cape swallows her words as Tozu vanishes, leaving confusion and tension in his wake. His laughter clings to the walls, woven into the mechanical drone of the ventilation.
“…question.” Her voice falters in the empty room.
They remain silent long after Tozu’s exit.
“So, does that mean we can all actually…?” Diana looks up, hope and doubt warring in her expression.
Damon’s stomach knots. Grace’s eyes stay locked on the ground like she’s trying to burn a hole straight through it. The corner of Wenona’s lips twitches—less relief, more quiet calculation.
“Well, what are we waiting for then?” Grace sits up abruptly. “We should start lookin’ around. But where the hell are we even supposed to start?”
Diana takes a breath. “We… should stick together so we’re all on the same page. If what he said about the investigation is true, it’ll be safer that way.”
“No,” Wenona pushes herself up from her seat as well. The movement is too sharp for her usual composure. “We don’t have time for that.” Her voice is hoarse, its edges frayed. “We need to finish the investigation fast. Splitting up is the only way.”
Jett reaches out a hand. “But, Wenona—”
“I agree with her for once.”
Cassidy slides off the sofa’s armrest like a shadow. Her tone is lighter than the weight in her eyes.
“…Cassidy?” Damon blinks in disbelief. Wenona doesn’t look too happy despite receiving support.
“If Tozu’s really playing fair for once—and that’s a huge if—then he said he left clues in the previously unlocked rooms, right?” The gamer’s gaze ticks between them. “That means the boiler room, the library, and the theater. Three completely different corners of the campus, incidentally.”
“That’s precisely right.” Wenona lifts a hand and counts off with three fingers, her voice flattening into something businesslike. “So, let’s say we spread out. Two take the west side, two handle the east, and two go north into the school.”
Cassidy snaps her fingers with a huge grin. “Yeah! Two people on each section who double-triple-check everything, so nothing slips through the cracks.” She lets the silence hang a beat before adding, a touch softer, “It’s the fastest way. If we’re wasting time tripping over each other looking over all the same stuff, we’re gonna be too late.”
Damon straightens, steadying his voice. “I can be the overseer for all locations. I’ll check in on everyone and make sure nothing gets overlooked.”
Cassidy offers a small, lopsided shrug. “Yup. Sounds ‘bout right. Wouldn’t expect anything less from you, Bargain Bin.”
Damon feels heat rise to his cheeks despite everything at the silly nickname. He’s not sure if it’s embarrassment or exhaustion. Probably both.
With a low, skeptical hum, Grace adjusts her visor, eyes narrowing on Cassidy like she’s a foreign object. “Hey… the hell happened to you? Since when were you actually, y’know, useful and not annoying?”
Jett guffaws, crossing his arms. “It’s ‘cause she's locked in! That’s the real Cass talking!”
“...Perfect.”
Diana looks over at him. “Damon, are you okay to…?”
“Diana…”
Before he can slip away or make an excuse, Diana reaches out, snatches him by his collar, and yanks him into the group.
“Wha—hey!” He yelps, stumbling forward, nearly tripping.
“Don’t make that face, Damon,” Diana scolds. “You can do it. We’ve gotten this far, Damon—we’re not giving up now. There will be a way to solve this.”
Her eyes soften as her thumb lingers over his trinket. “You have to see your parents, right? So don’t worry. You’ll definitely make it. I know you will!”
Her eyes blaze with determination as she thrusts her hand forward into the space between them. “Come on, friends, hands in!”
There’s a pause.
“Heck yeah!” Diana’s hand hovers alone until Jett slaps his palm down on her. His grin burns through whatever anxiety. “We got this, guys!”
The momentum seems to break, and suddenly, the students hum with an unforeseen energy.
“All right, then,” Grace lets out a breathy chuckle, squeezing the cosmetologist’s hand encouragingly. “No better way than to face it. Let’s kick some ass.”
Cassidy jams her hand in confidently, throwing a peace sign with the other. “I mean, it’d be pretty dumb of me to let you guys go off alone. What if you five plot my murder behind my back?” She smiles wryly. “Besides, it’d be boring without Jett and me around anyway!”
Wenona sighs but puts her hand in next. “Know that I am only doing this so my company gets its CEO back, got it?”
They all turn to Damon, who stares at the pile of hands. For a second too long, he doesn’t move.
“Damon?” asks Diana, tentative and hopeful.
His lips press thin. Finally, he exhales sharply and slides his hand on top despite himself. Knowing that he is lying, that they will never be able to escape together.
“Listen to me,” Diana says, unbeknownst to his thoughts, resting her other hand over Damon's. “We’re going to do this together. We’ll escape and meet our loved ones again. All of us.”
Their hands press down as one.
“Let’s finally end this, once and for all!”