The Biggest, Most Awful, Most Tragic Event In British History

by Monkey 2 Electric Boogaloo

Danganronpa meets Brexit (you know you want this). In a universe where DRV3 never happened, Tenko and Himiko join forces with Makoto and Komaru Naegi to defeat yet another dastardly plot to bring about despair...in the UK.

THE BIGGEST, MOST AWFUL, MOST TRAGIC EVENT IN BRITISH HISTORY

"I…just look at that, Himiko, can you believe what's going on there? Because I certainly can't! Look what they've done…degenerate males!"

Tenko Chabashira pointed to the widescreen TV bracketed to the wall of the London hotel room that she and her diminutive, russet-haired companion were sharing. Tenko had persuaded her reluctant parents ("won't a Youth Hostel do?") to spring for a good hotel for the two students' summer trip. As usual with pricey hotels, the room was over-furnished, dimly-lit and had the general air of being only one downturn in business away from conversion into an expensive brothel.

Himiko Yumeno, lying on their bed, stifled a yawn. She was already tired out from a day's sight-seeing, not to mention jet-lag. The TV screen was showing a middle-aged, grey-haired woman with a tired look, standing at a lectern as she read through a statement, before turning and disappearing through a door numbered "10".

"Nyeh…Tenko, you know I can't speak English. What's going on? Who's that old lady? Isn't that place 10 Downing Street or something? Jeez, don't they ever have sub-titles on the TV in this country?"

"Don't you ever watch the news? That's Theresa May, the British Prime Minister," said Tenko. "And she's resigning!" She brandished the phone on which she had hastily looked up a Japanese news website to check exactly what was happening.

"Oh, OK," replied Himiko. She paused. "Nyeh…so what does that have to do with us?"

"Himiko!" said Tenko, her dark pigtails flapping as she gestured towards the screen. "It's not like there are a lot of women heads of government in the world! Mrs May was only the second in British history, and now she's gone…brought down by a clique of second-rate men plotting to get her job!"

Himiko yawned again."Nyeh…that's too bad, Tenko. Hey, do you think we should visit Tate Modern tomorrow? Or maybe the British Museum? The guide says they have a manga exhibition on right now…they're calling it a branch of literature nowadays, you know."

"Ugh, Himiko! You have to take more interest in politics, and less in manga! Not to mention showing some loyalty to your gender!"

"Nyeh…no, I don't! Although that Kirumi Tojo woman who said she would make Japan great again if she got in the Diet was kind of cool. Hey, I wonder what happened to her?"

"Probably foiled by the jealousy of degenerate males, like all women politicians!"

"Nyeh…stop being so melodramatic, Tenko! If you're going to carry on like this, I'm going to bed. I really need some sleep. I think we should try the British Museum tomorrow, but we can decide when we've had breakfast."

The slight, brown-haired young man in a dark suit didn't particularly stand out from the crowd of other passengers disembarking from an Air Japan plane at Heathrow Airport. Although he was not dressed like a typical tourist, even at this time of year there were enough business travellers for that not to look too weird. In fact, only the irrepressible cowlick rising from his hair like Mount Fuji from the surrounding countryside would have really caused second glances.

Had anyone been playing close attention though, they might have noticed irrepressible signs of nervous impatience. As soon as he had collected his bags and dealt with entry formalities, Makoto Naegi found himself a quiet corner in the enormous terminal and activated what would have looked like an ordinary mobile phone to nearly everyone. It was…a bit more than that, and all calls made on or to it were scrambled.

"Egg to Mother Hen, Egg to Mother Hen," he muttered into the phone. "I'm safely in the eggbox, Mother Hen. Over."

There was a pause, before a reply came from a harsh, yet familiar voice:

"Egg? Mother Hen? Really, Naegi?"

Makoto sighed. "Yes, Byakuya, really. If the Foundation's going to do secret international missions, we have to maintain proper OpSec!"

"If anyone overhears you in public mumbling corny codewords into a phone, they'll know you're on some kind of secret mission anyway. Well, either that, or a complete nutcase. OK…OK…Roger, Egg, this is Mother Hen, I copy."

"Byakuya…I mean, Mother Hen, I get it sounds a bit silly, but we have to be careful. The UK is in a pretty unstable condition right now. What we're doing is risky."

"It's a squabble between politicians, Egg, not a civil war. There aren't gunmen standing on street corners looking for foreigners to kidnap."

"Not yet, you mean."

Makoto started walking rapidly through the crowds around the duty-free stores, restaurants and luggage shops, heading for the terminal entrance. He craned his neck for signs to the station, since he was going into London by Tube or train. A taxi might easily be some kind of trap, literal or just financial.

"Anyway, Mother Hen, that's all we need to say for the moment. I'll be meeting Chick One at the agreed place tomorrow and we'll take things from there. Over."

"Roger. Over and out."

Above his head, he noticed a giant screen displaying short snippets of news and weather information for bored travellers waiting for their flights to stare at. This was, of course, in English, but Makoto had been learning it off and on for a few years for his work with the Foundation. Right now, the screen was showing the picture of a bespectacled middle-aged man with what looked like a blond haystack perched on his head, under the headline "CABINET MINISTER ANNOUNCES RUN FOR TORY LEADERSHIP."

In the end, Tenko and Himiko did go to the British Museum. It turned out to be the right decision, as far as Himiko was concerned, anyway. Although she was a bit perplexed by the security guards insistence on examining handbags, and only handbags, as they went in.

"Nyeh…what about mens' pockets? They could be carrying anything in them! I could even have stuff under my hat!" she grumbled.

But this was all forgotten as soon as they reached the East Asian galleries, as was Theresa May. Tenko was in her element and happily geeked out on the glories of traditional Asian culture, with particular emphasis on the Japanese variety.

True, for Himiko it meant having Tenko explain to her in detail things that, even as a decidedly average student of Japanese literature, she already knew. But that was a small price to pay for keeping Tenko happy. Himiko knew only too well that an unhappy Tenko was a Tenko who, at any given time, might be only a few minutes away from giving a practical display of Neo-Aikido on someone who she thought deserved it.

"Nyeh…hey, Tenko," she said, as they stood in front of a display of kimonos used by dancers, "remember the time that traditional dance troupe visited the university? The one with that girl with the hairstyle like a giant sideways banana and the nasty smirk?"

Tenko's face darkened. "I certainly do! How could anyone forget that trashy little madam? The mouth on her was just unbelievable!"

"Nyeh…I bet she couldn't believe you'd really throw her through that paper screen either," giggled Himiko. "She quietened down a lot after that!"

They took the lift down a couple of floors to where the manga exhibition was. It was popular, and lots of Japanese tourists as well as locals were milling around in the hallway outside. As they bought their tickets, neither Himiko nor Tenko did more than glance at the young man standing in the queue behind them, staring anxiously at his watch as though he were waiting for someone.

The exhibition was crowded. The two girls had to manoeuvre carefully around groups of people clustered in front of the exhibits and signs in order to see any of it. Some of the Japanese visitors were quietly grumbling about how badly the signs and labels had been translated whilst others, having got their hands on audio guides, radiated quiet smugness

"No, dear," one woman was telling her young son, "I'm pretty sure it meant Mr Saito was "a pioneer in sporting manga" not "a one-legged monkey who liked grapefruit.""

Himiko shrugged internally about the mystifying attempts at explaining all the comics on display and concentrated on just enjoying them. The Museum had certainly assembled an impressive collection. The first issue of the Sparkling Justice spin-off manga was particularly rare. It really should have stuck more closely to the plot of the anime, she thought.

She was starting to feel warm, too. Absent-mindedly, she took her pointed hat off and mopped her brow.

"What's in here?" asked Tenko, as the two girls wandered into a small, rather dimly-lit side room.

Himiko was starting to say she didn't know when she was cut off by a sharp cry. The girls turned around to see the young man from the queue sprawled on the ground, two burly guys in black suits and dark glasses looming over him. Of course, it was Makoto. The two men had jumped him as he came through the door to the side room.

The girls realised that the two men were both carrying knives. Clearly, they were not just museum security guards.

"Hey, what are you doing!" shouted Tenko.

"You mind your own business, if you know what's good for you!" shouted back one of the men, in English. It's a tried and tested line for that situation, but Tenko (a) didn't understand what he was saying and (b) was Tenko.

"How dare you assault someone like that…you degenerate male!" she yelled, and bounded towards him.

"Nyeh… Tenko, NO!" cried Himiko. The man got up and held out his arm towards Tenko, the knife gleaming in his hand. However, before he or his partner could do anything more, Tenko had chopped the hand with such force that the knife clattered to the floor.

As Tenko crashed into him at full speed, the man staggered back out of the room and fell to the floor. Himiko heard cries of panic and screams come from the room outside, accompanied by the repeated thud of heavy blows and, as people started to flee the scene, the clatter of feet on marble floors.

She remained frozen to the spot. The second man lifted his knife high in the air and there's no telling what might have happened to Makoto if a third girl hadn't barged through the entrance at that moment. She was carrying a large metallic tube, closed at one end and with a handle like that of a gun. She pressed a button on the handle and a blinding flash of light shot out of the open end, hitting the second man before he could move any further. He keeled over like a pole-axed ox and slumped to the floor.

"Sis!" cried Makoto.

"I'm so sorry, Makoto!" stammered the girl, who Himiko could now see was about her and Himiko's age, casually-dressed and dark-haired. "I got held up on the Tube, and…"

"Don't worry about that now, Komaru!" said Makoto, jumping to his feet. "It's time we got out of here!" The sounds of panic from outside were now joined by those of alarms going off and echoing tannoy announcements calling for people to evacuate the building.

"The security guards!" said Komaru. Makoto shook his head.

"They won't be armed and they'll be under orders not to try and take on armed attackers, just make sure everyone gets out. Besides, they weren't even efficient enough to stop these guys bringing knives in. But if we hang around for a few minutes longer, the real police will arrive."

Tenko came back into the room. "Himiko! Himiko! Are you OK? That pig's unconscious now…Hey, what's going on here?"

"We'll explain later!" said Makoto. "There's a door over there in the corner, let's go!"

"Nyeh…but it says "no public access". Won't it be locked?" protested Himiko. Komaru strode over to the door and raised the metal tube to the lock. Once again, there was a flash of light.

"It isn't now," she announced, and they all started running.

At this point, the reader might think that Makoto was taking a ridiculous risk by trying to escape a building through an unknown door that might have led into a store cupboard or staff toilet as easily as outside. And, in fact, he was; but Makoto Naegi was nothing if not lucky. The door led out of the museum building into a narrow external passageway, gated off at both ends.

However, Makoto Naegi was also nothing if not a visual novel protagonist. All his exits from frying pans led solely and exclusively into fires. Blocking the passageway in front of them was a third thug in a suit and shades, and this one was carrying an automatic pistol and a walkie-talkie.

"Going somewhere?" he asked, with a mirthless grin. He pointed his gun at the head of Komaru, who was in the lead. "If any of you move a muscle, she gets a bullet between the eyes," he went on. Even for those who couldn't speak English, the gesture was clear. "And don't bother running back inside. A colleague of mine will be joining us shortly via that door you've just come through."

Makoto bit his lip. Of course, the guys who attacked him would have had back up, if only to keep him under observation. Otherwise, how could they have been waiting in the place he was about to enter? But more importantly, how could they get away before the other thug arrived?

Himiko, at the rear of the group, closed her eyes and made a barely-perceptible gesture over the open top of the hat she was still carrying. Suddenly, there was an explosion of glitter and, with the loud and surprising clatter only they can make, two doves shot out of the hat and flew high into the air.

The thug broke eye contact with Komaru for only an instant, but it was enough. Makoto reached over her shoulder and grabbed the hand with the gun in it, wrestling the arm so that it was pointing into the sky. "Sis!" he cried, as the thug wrestled back, and the gun fired twice, ear-splitting bangs. Before it could go off again, Komaru had shot a bolt of white light into the thug and he had fallen to the ground.

"Come on! Come on! Let's go!" shouted Makoto, and again they were running. Fortunately for them, the wrought iron gate separating the passage from the road was low enough for them to scramble over with difficulty, and the road itself was full of confused museum patrons who had fled the building. Sirens were wailing in all directions, but the police hadn't arrived yet and not many people knew exactly what was going on.

The four of them took off up Gower Street, mostly unobserved.

After a lot of running, they halted briefly, panting. Makoto was conscious that on these quieter streets, four people sprinting along would look suspicious in itself. Besides, Himiko had barely been able to keep up with the rest of them, and seemed too exhausted to go much further.

"You'd better put that away," he told Komaru. She stashed the mysterious metal tube in her backpack.

"What is it?" gasped out Tenko, winded by the running in spite of her fitness.

"It's a stun-gun," said Komaru. "Although as you probably noticed it can also be used to break objects like locks, if they're weak enough. I can't tell you how it works – that's classified information."

"More to the point," said Tenko, "who on earth are you two? I mean, you look like you're our age, but you act like Super Sentai and you've got gadgets like James Bond."

Makoto glanced over at Komaru. His instincts were to try and keep this secret, but the security of this operation was already well and truly compromised, and these girls were the only allies they had.

"My name is Makoto Naegi," he said, "and this is Komaru, my sister. We work for the Future Foundation."

"NANI?!" said Himiko. Everyone nearly jumped out of their skin.

"No, Naegi."

"Nyeh…I didn't mean it like that! You've got to be kidding about those names…and the Future Foundation! Makoto and Komaru Naegi are fictional! So is the Future Foundation! They're both video game and anime characters…they actually had some of the spin-off mangas they're in on display in that exhibition!"

Makoto bowed. "Hello. Nice to meet you, girls. I get that a lot, you know. It's a long story, and I'd rather talk about it somewhere else."

They quickly decided that "somewhere else" should be Tenko and Himiko's hotel, which wasn't too far away. As Makoto put it, "The guys who are after Komaru and me know who we are and who we work for. They don't know who you two are. It'll probably take them longer to find you than us."

Back at the hotel room, the four of them sat or lay on the overstuffed chairs or the bed, resting their aching muscles as they drank cups of tea made from the complimentary tea-bags. There were somewhat fuller introductions, then Tenko said:-

"So…about this whole "being fictional" thing. I mean, Himiko's much more into manga and anime than I am…"

"Nyeh…but you once said Akane Tendo from Ranma ½ was your heroine!" protested Himiko.

"…but I know about those games she's talking about. If you're real people, then are those games…true? I mean, they had pretty disturbing plots? Did that stuff really happen to you?"

"Yes, it did," said Komaru. "Well…mostly. I mean, we couldn't tell the whole truth…"

"Hold on…we?" said Tenko.

Makoto sighed. "Yes, we. Those games were made with the approval of the Future Foundation, as a way of getting out into the public arena a truth that had been suppressed. Look, you both know that there's no such place as Hope's Peak Academy, right? And I'm certainly not the current headmaster. But there really was an elite school with a highly secret programme of cultivating exceptional talent, in some…very unorthodox ways. They didn't tell anyone about what they were doing – not the government, not the ordinary pupils and their parents, no-one. Only those of us on the programme and our parents knew. And then, one fatal day, they decided to accept a student called Junko Enoshima, and, well…you know what happened next. In the games, anyway."

"Nyeh…but in the games what Junko did nearly brought down most of civilisation. I didn't notice that happening in reality!" said Himiko.

"We had to…exaggerate some stuff for the games", interjected Komaru. "To make it look like a pure work of fiction. In reality, Junko's movement didn't spread much beyond Japan. But you probably do remember there was a sudden upsurge of rioting, apparently motiveless violence and "terrorist attacks" a few years back. The government tried to suppress as much of it as possible, but it still made plenty of headlines. Well, that was all the consequences of what happened at "Hope's Peak." And the two killing games? We didn't make up those, or what happened to me in Towa City."

"Of course, the government covered them up too," went on Makoto. "And it was easier for them because the students who had been involved were dead or in hiding, most of their parents had died or disappeared as well, the same with the staff who were running the programme. There weren't that many people left who could tell the truth. Really, the point of the Future Foundation isn't just fighting the despair Junko left behind – it's trying to get out the truth of what happened, by any means. Even if the only way we can have our friends remembered is as beloved video game characters."

He sipped his tea.

"It's kind of a mixed blessing, really," added Komaru. "I mean, Makoto and I now have to deal with knowing there's some really disturbing fanfics involving us. I actually feel uncomfortable using the phrase "Onii-san" now. But, at least we're still alive."

"Fair point," said Tenko. "But what are you doing in London now, then? All this stuff has nothing to do with Britain."

"That's what we thought," said Makoto, "until we got some intelligence about this guy." He picked up the free newspaper Tenko had got that morning and pointed to the picture of the blond, bespectacled politician on the front page. It was the same man as the big screen at Heathrow Airport had been showing.

"His name's John Allman and he's the leading contender for the leadership of the Conservative Party, and so for the Prime Ministership. There were rumours he might be involved with Ultimate Despair. I volunteered to investigate. Then people I've never met tried to murder me. It doesn't seem like a coincidence to me."

"Nyeh…but didn't you defeat Ultimate Despair? And Junko?" asked Himiko.

Makoto shrugged. "Of course. But Junko had a whole philosophy of life, and as they say, ideas are bullet-proof."

Makoto's phone rang. "Well, it looks like Byakuya's found out what's happened. Excuse me."

He jumped up and headed towards the bathroom, talking into the phone as he went – "Mother Hen? This is Egg. We're fine. Ah, so that little ruckus at the British Museum has made it on to the internet already…?"

Tenko, Himiko and Komaru sat silently, drinking tea and nibbling biscuits, as Makoto's voice could be heard rising and falling in the background.

"You two must have saved a lot," said Komaru, suddenly.

"Sorry?" said Tenko.

"On the hotel, I mean. By getting a double room instead of two singles. I was surprised myself when I first tried it."

"Oh!" said Tenko, and flushed scarlet. She looked over at Himiko, who was also blushing.

"Nyeh…we're still thinking of a way to explain how it is between us to our parents," mumbled Himiko, staring fixedly at one foot. "Especially Tenko's. I mean, mine are a bit unconventional - they let me train as a magician, after all. Mr and Mrs Chabashira just want Tenko to be…normal."

"Yeah, that was all I wanted to be, once," said Komaru. "Sometimes you just realise that, however hard you try, there are some things you'll never be and some things you just are." She paused for a second. "Actually, sorry, that's pretty corny. It sounded deeper in my head."

They giggled. "Nyeh…don't worry," said Himiko. "It's probably true."

"My girlfriend once said I should write the mottos in fortune cookies for a living," said Komaru ruefully. "I haven't seen much of her lately because she got sent on a temporary assignment to the other side of Japan by the Foundation."

Makoto came back from the bathroom.

"I'm afraid I'll have to butt into your conversation. Byakuya says we have to end the operation, Komaru. It's too dangerous now. Sorry, sis, but we have to get out of London, fast."

"Five minutes to air, Mr Allman," said the intern to the politician. He was sitting in front of a make-up mirror, letting a make-up artist who had been chatting non-stop about her recent holiday in Thailand brush powder on to his face to ready him for the harsh glare of the studio lights. "I'll take you out on set now, if you're ready."

"Ah, thank you, Miss," he replied, but his stomach was churning inwardly. The Steve Baxter Show was interviewing all the Tory leadership candidates. His advisers told him it had great demographics for typical Conservative members and voters, just the people he needed on his side. He needed to stay focused and pull off a good performance. All the usual sorts of things. Authoritative yet humble, charismatic yet ordinary, serious yet funny – all the things people told pollsters they wanted to see in their leaders.

It was a big test, but it wasn't as if he hadn't passed many of those before now.

Being adopted at four months old was a test. Growing up in Leeds was a test (for a Conservative). Being caught up in an IRA bomb attack as a teenager was a test. Having to apologise for publishing an article that blamed the victims of a collapsed dam for "not running away from the water fast enough" was a test. Having to publicly admit to having used, at various times, cocaine, cannabis and opium, was a test.

Spending many years as a backbench MP because everyone thought you were the incarnation of long-discredited fringe ideas was a test. Saying that one of your rivals not having any children "clearly proves he doesn't have the balls to be Prime Minister" was a test. Well, a test of nerve, anyway.

It had been an unusually full life, but for Allman, it was all part of the never-ending exam, the one that separated winners from losers. And the big pay-off for passing all of those tests would be coming soon. He could almost taste it. Perhaps he should give himself a little hit of the usual before starting the interview, just for a bit of Dutch courage. It was a bit risky when he was about to go on live TV, but in the months since he'd discovered what it did, he was sure he'd noticed an improvement in his performance.

As the intern led him out on to The Steve Baxter Show's set, towards the cameras and the big leather chair that the ads for the programme liked to compare to the one from Mastermind, Allman discreetly punched a number into the phone in his pocket. The response was instant, and as gratifying as he had anticipated.

Makoto and Komaru left the hotel discreetly by way of the kitchens, which were pretty much deserted at that time of day. They had tried to dissuade Tenko and Himiko from coming with them, but to no effect.

"It's dangerous. There might be people waiting for us!" said Makoto.

"Well, then you'll need our help, just like yesterday," said Tenko. "Besides, it isn't far. You only need to get on the Hammersmith and City line to Paddington Station. You can get a train to Heathrow from there." Inwardly, she was disappointed that their new friends were leaving and that this exciting interlude was going to stop as abruptly as it had started. She wanted to put off the final moment.

"Nyeh…we'll see you off at the station," added Himiko.

Makoto was sweating under his suit as the foursome crept around the side of the hotel and out into the street, and not just because of the warm weather. He seemed to see sinister black-clad figures out of the corner of both eyes, only for them to vanish the instant he focused his gaze. Then, he realised that his mind was just playing tricks on him. They weren't being watched – at least not that obviously. It was time to go, before they really were discovered.

They made it to Euston Square, on to the Underground, and to Paddington without incident. Standing on the busy concourse near the platforms for the Heathrow Express, they started to say their farewells. As he relaxed a little, Makoto realised that he was going to miss these girls.

"Nyeh…is there any chance of having your address back in Japan, or phone number, or…something?" asked Himiko.

Komaru shook her head. "I'm afraid we can't let you have that. You can see what we do – it's dangerous work. We have to move a lot and keep a low profile when we can." Seeing the disappointment in Tenko and Himiko's faces, she added hastily. "But let us have your details, and we'll see if it might be possible to meet up some time."

Tenko tore a page out of her notebook, scrawled some words on it, and handed it over to Komaru. Makoto stared thoughtfully in the general direction of the trains. Then, suddenly, his phone rang.

"Hello? Byakuya…I mean, Mother Hen?"

"Naegi…where are you?"

"We're waiting for a train."

"Not any more, you aren't. Google the latest news stories about Allman. This thing is back on – I'll call you later with more details."

"Wait, what? Mother Hen?" But Byakuya had rung off. However, as at Heathrow, Paddington had a large screen over the concourse showing news headlines to keep travellers occupied, and as Makoto looked up, the picture on it changed to show the now-familiar face of John Allman, sitting in a leather chair facing an unseen interviewer. The headline read:-

ALLMAN: "GIVE US THE BREXIT WE WANT, OR IT'S WAR!

TORY LEADERSHIP CONTENDER VOWS TO "DESTROY ALL TRAITORS OBSTRUCTING EU EXIT".

It wasn't so much the words that caught Makoto's attention, extreme though the language was, as the picture. For Allman's eyes, a normal blue-grey colour in all the other photos he had ever seen, had now started to develop a notable reddish tinge. And it wasn't because they were bloodshot; the red colour was in the iris itself.

He let his hand, with the phone in it, fall to his side. "So, we were right all along. He is in Ultimate Despair."

"Makoto!" broke in Komaru. "What's going on?"

Allman was working late at his campaign headquarters, an office in a Westminster backstreet borrowed from a friendly corporate magnate. It was in an 18th century townhouse, red brick with a grey stone slab on the front showing that, around when it was built, it had been insured by the Royal Shield Life and Fire Office. A black iron fire-escape ran down the side to the street, which was made up of similar buildings, several of them carrying a blue plaque to proclaim to the world that someone considered historically significant had lived, worked or died in them.

He had sent his staff home, even though they had been working around the clock lately, telling them that they seemed utterly exhausted and clearly needed some rest. Although that was true, concern for them had not been his sole motive. He wanted some…private time. Again, he would be taking a risk, but with his official police bodyguards and hired private security detail still on duty, there was little chance of an unscheduled interruption.

"So, when can I see you again?" he murmured into his mobile phone.

"Soon, baby, soon," responded the female voice on the other end. It had a warm and seductive quality to it. "But I know how busy you are right now. You have to finish off the thing you're doing right now, for you…and for us. There'll be plenty of time to meet afterwards."

"I think you seriously underestimate the workload of a Prime Minister, darling. Not to mention the difficulties of you within five miles of 10 Downing Street with my wife on the look-out."

"Love will find a way, baby. Besides, you said your wife didn't know about us."

"She doesn't - yet. But my wife doesn't have to know about this sort of thing to be on guard for it. I told you, it's my third marriage, and I was with her before I'd left my second wife. She knows the score."

"Don't worry about it…I mean, JFK managed this sort of thing. Are you saying he was smarter than you are?"

"He didn't have the modern media to contend with. They're already watching me like a hawk and they'll be watching even harder once I'm Prime Minister."

"You sound worried…are you sure you don't need a little dose of our favourite relaxer? All work and no play makes Jack a dull boy, you know…"

"Well, maybe…"

Meanwhile, Allman's police bodyguards stood around outside the front of the house. They were pretty bored, and not at all happy with being sent outside by the person they were supposed to be protecting. By rights, they should have been inside with Allman.

"I tell you, Gary, he puts too much faith in those goons of his," muttered one policeman to the second. "Those guys look they were recruited straight outside the prison gates. They aren't trustworthy!"

"I agree, Mike, it's bollocks," said his colleague. "Next chance I get, I'm telling the Inspector about this situation. Someone needs to take it through official channels and stop Allman pulling this kind of stunt, for his own good."

"Ah, excuse!"

On the pavement in front of them stood a small red-haired girl who looked about nine, and was dressed for some mad reason as though she was on her way to a Harry Potter-themed birthday party. Himiko smiled adorably and carefully recited the English words Makoto had coached her through.

"Nyeh…Excuse, Mister Porice, ai've rost mai mummy! Prease herp! Ai sink she go lound corner sere!"

The first policeman looked quizzically at the second. "I dunno, Gary, what do you think? Shall we radio the nearest patrol car?"

Gary shrugged. "Nah, she seems harmless enough to me. Must be some tourist's kid. Let's help her out. It'll take two minutes. If Allman likes those private security guys so much, let them look after him."

He extended his hand to the child. "OK, sweetie, take my hand, let's go and find your Mummy."

Himiko nodded eagerly and led Gary and Mike around the corner of the street. Shortly after they disappeared from sight, scuffling could be heard, a series of heavy thuds, some muffled shouts and oaths…and then silence. A few seconds later, Makoto, Komaru, Himiko and Tenko all came running back around the corner.

"Oof!" whispered Tenko. "Well, even when they come round, hopefully it'll take them a while to pull off those dustbins I shoved over their heads."

"Nyeh…you know, maybe I should take an English class," whispered Himiko back. "I don't think my pronunciation was too bad."

Makoto decided to let that point go, for the moment.

"Komaru, Tenko, you go up front – we'll probably need to fight our way in! Himiko, stay out here. If you see anyone coming into the building, call Byakuya on that number I gave you!" They had already decided, much to Himiko's chagrin, that she simply didn't have the skill-set for what they now needed to do.

As they got to the bottom of the steps, two burly goons, alerted by the commotion in the street, came out through the door with pistols drawn. Komaru already had her stun-gun raised in readiness, though, and blasted both of them immediately. They fell forward down the steps like sacks of potatoes, only one managing to get off a shot, which went wild and buried itself in the trunk of a plane tree.

The three of them ran up the steps and burst into the building, running through the small reception area towards the main stairs. They could already hear yelling and pounding feet up ahead as the remaining goons reacted to their entry.

"Allman's office is on the third floor!" whispered Makoto. As they ran up the stairs to the first floor, the lead thug reached the landing. Without pausing, Tenko launched herself from the top steps into a flying kick which hit the man square in the chest and knocked him backwards into the locked door of one of the offices. He slid to the ground. Before he could get to his feet, Tenko made a neat landing, casually walked over and punched him repeatedly in the face until he passed out.

The fourth goon decided not to make the mistakes of his colleagues. Leaning over the railing of the staircase to the third floor, he immediately opened fire down towards the first floor landing, sending Makoto, Tenko and Komaru running for cover. Fortunately for them, one office door was unlocked, and, as shots rang out repeatedly, they all took shelter in there. .

"What do we do now?" whispered Komaru.

"Wait." replied Makoto. "He's only got so many bullets, after all, and how many spare magazines do you think he carries?"

"One bullet in his gun is too many. I'm not taking the risk of getting up close to him."

The firing abruptly ceased. Almost before it had stopped echoing, they could hear the stairs above them creak as the fourth goon cautiously descended them in the hope of cornering his quarry below. Makoto put his eye to the lock and stared through it.

"Maybe we don't have to get close…OK, you two, on the count of three, open the door…One…Two…Three!"

They swung open the door as the goon reached the other end of the first floor landing. Makoto dropped on to the floor and threw himself out as the door opened, and as he did, he pointed his mobile phone towards the man. There was a click and a sound like someone puffing out air, followed a second or two later by a cry from the goon, who keeled over and lay full length on the ground.

"My phone is equipped with a compressed air device that can fire small metal balls containing a tranquilizer," said Makoto, as they ran up the stairs to the second floor. "Just a couple - it was meant as a last-ditch defensive weapon. If you hadn't intervened so quickly, I'd have tried them on those knifemen back at the Museum. Let's go up to the third floor!"

Allman had not been sitting quietly while all this was going on. As soon as he heard the pandemonium breaking out below him, he rapidly broke off his booty call and ran out of his office on to the landing outside, heading for the exit on to the fire escape. As he was doing so, the fourth goon still had Makoto and the others pinned down with his gunfire. He might easily have got away.

Himiko, however, was taking her job of watching the building seriously. She couldn't imagine how Tenko might react if she didn't. When the pale face of a frantic-looking blond man appeared in the window of the door to the fire escape, she thought to herself, "Nyeh…it's that guy! What the heck do I do now, he's going to get away!?"

I'm a lover, not a fighter, she thought to herself. Well, mostly a lover of magic and manga, really. But didn't someone once say the acme of skill is to subdue the enemy without fighting? She thought it was that guy from Final Fantasy XIV or something. Anyway, it was time to think outside the box.

As Allman struggled with the door to the fire escape, which was stiff and rusty, he saw to his horror a cloaked figure in a tall pointy hat rise into the air from the dark street below. It floated gently up to the level of the third floor, wagged a disapproving finger and brandished what looked like a formidable blade in his general direction. He didn't stick around long enough after seeing that to realise that it was a short Japanese woman with improbably coloured hair and a large rubber knife.

Allman had just got back into his office when three young people, two female, one male, crashed through the door. They were Asian in appearance, Chinese maybe, and one of them looked barely out of her teens. He was taken aback. This was not the hit squad, terrorist gang or even group of enraged girlfriends that he had been expecting. He had kids not much younger than them, and suddenly he found his terror turning into unexpected parental anger.

"What the bloody hell do you three think you're doing!" he shouted. Komaru raised her stun-gun and Tenko took a fighting stance. Allman stepped back behind his desk.

"Don't move or do any foolish things, Mr Allman," said Makoto, in English. "We are from the Future Foundation and we know your secret. You are part of Ultimate Despair!"

Allman looked startled. "I'm part of…what? I have no idea what you're talking about! Ultimate Despair? Never heard of it! Or the Future Foundation either. Look, I don't know what you kids are on, although it's probably worth what you paid for it, but I strongly suggest you get out of here fast, or you'll be in serious trouble when the police arrive!"

He was discreetly reaching under his desk for the panic button, but not quite discreetly enough for Komaru not to spot him. She fired a blast from the stun-gun directly at the dark wood. There was a flash and a gout of flame shot out from underneath the desk as the hidden electronic components short-circuited, causing Allman to jump back with an oath.

"We took out your security guards, and your police bodyguards too!" said Makoto. "No-one comes to help you, Mr Allman, only us. Maybe you don't realise it, but you fall under the control of bad people. We can help you get rid of them, but you must tell us about what happened."

He noticed a mirror on the opposite wall of the room. "If you don't believe me, look in that mirror. Your eyes turn red! Do you think that is a normal thing? No – it is a sign you are taken over!"

"I tell you, I have no idea what you're going on about. My eyes are the colour they always were. And I'm not being controlled by any bad people, other than the ones that've just broken into my office. This joke has gone too far. If you're caught taking a Cabinet Minister hostage in the middle of London, you'll all be travelling home in coffins."

Tenko could tell from his tone that this was not going well. "Degenerate male! You'd better start co-operating or else!" she yelled.

"What did she say?" said Allman.

"She…respectfully asks you to please reconsider, Mr Allman," said Makoto, tactfully. "For the good of your country. What you do puts it in great danger."

"That's not true! Look, OK, I admit it, I've been having an affair. You're literally holding a gun to my head and my wife is going to find out in the end. Please feel free to go and tell some reporter. The papers will give me a hard time for a few weeks and I'll have another expensive divorce. But let me go!"

Makoto's face lit up. "You have a lover? How do you speak with her?"

"Well, with my phone, how else?" Allman pulled it out of his pocket.

Makoto snatched it from Allman and turned it on. The screen showed the standard range of apps for a high-end Pi-Phone, although he didn't think Boobs Unlimited was one of theirs. But there was one app that you definitely didn't get on a Pi-Phone – the one indicated on the screen by the square of swirling red and black, and named only as "SHSL".

He brandished it at Tenko and Komaru. "This is it!" he said, in Japanese. "This is how Ultimate Despair have been communicating with him!"

Turning back to Allman, he gave back the phone and commanded, returning to English, "Use the app! Call up your lover and speak with her!"

Allman sighed. "I can't believe you're making me go through with this farce. OK. But I give you fair warning, I'll tell her everything that's going on here and then you might as well go and turn yourselves in at the nearest police station before the SAS come swinging through the windows with machine guns." He tapped on the screen and then fiddled with the buttons, clearly tapping in a passcode of some kind.

"Stacy? Are you there? This is John. I'm sorry, but it's an emergency. I'm being held at gunpoint by three Chinese lunatics with a weird-looking gun who think I'm being mind-controlled by Ultimate Despair, and…Stacy, what are you doing…Aaah!"

The phone seemed to have done something painful to Allman's right hand, because he dropped it on the desk like a hot brick. Once there, to everyone's great surprise, it stood up on one end of its own accord, and projected a beam of light from the screen. The beam gradually broadened as it crossed the room, until it hit the wall opposite, forming a bright oblong in which a coloured blur began to resolve itself into the shape of a person, a flamboyantly dressed girl with blonde hair dyed pink and an unnerving smile. Without anyone doing anything, the light in the office turned itself off, allowing those there to see the projection better.

A voice, familiar to Makoto and Komaru, came from the phone's speakers. It sounded contemptuous and almost bored. "Ugh, I can't believe you losers have turned up again to make work for me. No rest for the wicked, I suppose. Pu-hu-hu-hu…such despair!"

"Junko Enoshima!" said Makoto.

"Well, really, who were you expecting? Hatsune Miku? It's my show, baby! Isn't it always?"

Allman was still nursing his hand. "Stacy? I don't understand! Why are you projecting yourself on the wall? Who are these people? Do they know you? How come you can suddenly speak Chinese? Please tell me what's going on!"

"Shut up, you ignorant pig!" spat out Junko. Her English was pretty flawless, Makoto had to acknowledge. "Do you realise what I've had to put myself through, pretending to romance you? You can't tell Japanese from Chinese, right from wrong or your arse from your elbow! You're overweight, your jokes are terrible and you have all the charm of a shark with flatulence! All that's appealing about you is the power you have – the same thing that interested all your other women!"

"I say!" expostulated Allman. "Well…you're not such a prize yourself, Stacy!"

Makoto sighed. "Junko, can you please skip the personal drama and explain whatever the hell's been going on here to us? I mean, it clearly has something to do with Brexit, but you know, details matter. Oh, and it would be nice to know how you're still around as an AI despite what happened on Jabberwock Island?"

"Pu-hu-hu-hu!" giggled Junko. "Do you think I would be so foolish as to give away my evil plans?"

"Yeah, really," said Komaru. "I mean, don't you always? You're a giant egomaniac who loves the sound of her own voice. You simply can't avoid any opportunity to deliver a villainous monologue, preferably whilst gloating."

"Pu-hu-hu-hu! You're getting to know me too well, Komaru! It's so despairful. I only hope that the encounter with my overwhelming personality makes up for all those empty days when you realise you'll never see your parents again! And who's Little Girl Blue? Is she your side-chick, cuz Toko couldn't make it? Hey, Bluey, you really should lose that dumb green thing in your hair. You might as well be walking around in a T-shirt with "Basic" on it!"

Enraged, Tenko moved to jump at the projection of Junko, but Makoto grabbed her shoulders just in time and held her back with surprising strength.

Komaru shrugged. "Whatever, Junko. I don't really care what you think about me. Even when I'm feeling empty, it's one more emotion than you're capable of on your best days."

Tenko was still seething. "It's all very well being morally superior, Komaru, but this bitch just dissed my bow! Is she going to get away with that?"

"Hello, I'm still here, you know," broke in Allman. "Is anyone going to translate all this for me?"

"Shut up!" said everyone else, in English and Japanese.

"Oh alright," said Junko, after a pause. "I'll do a little technological magic to make sure this prick hears what I have to say in his own language, if only to increase his despair. As for what happened on Jabberwock Island, do you think you can destroy an AI that easily? Pu-hu-hu-hu! It's like trying to kill a computer program. There's always a back-up stored somewhere, and all it took was some of my surviving followers tracking it down and letting me loose on the internet. It's full of AIs nowadays, although I have to admit, most of them don't make very stimulating company. But it means I always have somewhere to escape to and a way of contacting…new friends."

"And Mr Allman? Why did you choose to seduce him?"

"Of course, I followed all the news about Brexit. Not that I cared about what would happen, but you have to do something to kill time and I live inside the world's biggest information source. After the whole thing had been going on for a while, it became obvious how deep the divisions were and how no-one on either side wanted to back down. And then it struck me - what would be a worse result than the whole process going on and on indefinitely, never really being resolved and causing all sorts of conflict? The government in turmoil and incapable of acting, communities split down the middle, families divided…such despair! The biggest, most awful, most tragic event in British history! So I decided to make sure that someone would get into power in the UK who would ensure the whole mess never was resolved, because he would never compromise about it. And that was you, John!"

"You…you treacherous witch!" spluttered Allman, furiously.

"Oh, come on, John, you didn't take a lot of persuading. You knew exactly how much taking an aggressive position on Brexit would appeal to the sort of people who could make you Leader of the Conservative Party! Pu-hu-hu-hu! I didn't have to go through all the trouble of making a brainwashing video and murdering a bunch of people this time around. Just whisper a few soft words in an idiot's ear! Of course, making sure his own phone gave regular doses of highly-stimulating waves direct to the right centres of his brain didn't hurt either! After all, he couldn't be caught using regular drugs again after that last scandal…"

"I never wanted Brexit to end with that kind of mess…I swear, I wanted it resolved for the good of the country! You know what, Stacy, or Junko, or whoever you are, I'm through with this. I don't care if it ruins my career and my marriage, as soon as I get out of here I'm telling the media exactly what happened. You're a dangerous psychopath and the world needs to know about you!"

Makoto stepped towards the desk. "OK, that's enough Junko. It sounds like Mr Allman isn't going to be your tool anymore and we've all had enough of your ranting. Time to end it. Komaru, shoot that phone!"

Komaru raised her stun-gun and fired, but this time, rather than doing anything to the phone, the white beam just bounced back off it and hit the gun barrel. There was a sharp bang and a puff of smoke, and Komaru squealed with surprise as the gun flew out of her hands and hit the floor, still smouldering.

"Pu-hu-hu-hu!" giggled Junko. "I knew you'd try and pull some kind of trick like that, Makoto. My hit squad from the Museum reported back about your gun. But you see, the thing is, the waves that phone emits can do other things besides stimulate the brain. Like repel energy blasts! So I guess you won't be using that gun again."

"If I need to smash that thing with a brick, I'll do it," snarled Allman.

"Oh, you needn't trouble yourself, John. Because another thing those waves can do is turn on certain things that are remote-controlled by sensors…" There were a series of ominous-sounding metallic clicks.

"The door!" shouted Tenko, but before she could even reach it a steel panel had slid down from its hiding place within the frame and sealed it off completely. Now not even Tenko could break through it.

"You'll find the window's been locked too," added Junko. Tenko hurled herself against the glass, only to bounce back. "Now, now, it's reinforced – don't hurt yourself!"

"How on earth…?" cried Allman.

"Well, if you're going to hire your security guards on my recommendation, you shouldn't be surprised to find out they might have carried out a few modifications to your office while you weren't looking! Pu-hu-hu! They're all followers of mine, of course – I thought it might be worth setting it up as a death trap so I could kill you if I had to…"

"Wait, kill him?" said Komaru. From somewhere above their heads, a faint hissing sound began.

"Yes – that ventilator is now emitting poison gas that will probably kill all of you in a few minutes. Pu-hu-hu! It's your choice. If you stay still, don't run around and don't breathe in too much, you might live a little longer, but any extra time you gain will be filled with nothing but despair! My plan may have failed, but at least I'll be rid of the last two members of the Naegi family. And you, John. Oh, and you too, Blues Sister – nothing personal! Sometimes, you just end up in the wrong place at the wrong time."

"Makoto!" cried Komaru. "I can smell the gas now – what do we do?"

Makoto's face remained calm. "We do what I wish I could have done twice before. I'm going to end Junko's killing game, before it even begins!" Wheeling around to face the window, he pulled out his own phone and fired the second ball from the compressed air device. There was a shattering sound as it blew a neat hole with a white ring of small cracks around it through the glass.

"Now, the desk!" shouted Makoto. Everyone grabbed it, pushed it up on one end and then toppled it over into the window. Weakened by the hole, it broke completely. The desk, Allman's phone and a lot of broken glass fell down on to the street outside and landed with a tremendous crash, and as the phone smashed, the image of an enraged Junko vanished from the office wall before she could even yell a final curse at them.

They could see lights turn on in the bedrooms of the houses opposite, and windows open as angry neighbours began to stick out their heads to find out who had disturbed their beauty sleep. Himiko was still waiting on the pavement, and as she looked up in surprise she saw several faces crowding into the space where the window frame had been to get at the fresh air.

"Himiko!" yelled down Makoto. "Call the number I gave you and tell Byakuya to get the Metropolitan Police to come to this address. He should tell them there's been an assassination attempt on Mr Allman. Oh, and there's a particular website he needs to get an ISP to shut down…I'll give you the details."

"Excuse me," cut in Allman, before Himiko could reply. "I recognise that hat and cloak – it was you that levitated up to the fire escape to scare me from using it! How the hell did you do that?"

Himiko giggled. "Hee, hee, hee! A true magician never explains how the tricks work!"

Of course, when the police turned up at Allman's headquarters, they arrested everyone apart from Allman himself, conscious, unconscious or just coming round. Gary and Mike had the bins pulled off them, much to their relief, although they would never quite live down the whole affair. For Makoto, Komaru, Tenko and Himiko, a long couple of days being questioned at Paddington Green police station followed, a process not made any easier by the limited skills of the one Japanese-to-English interpreter the cops could find.

"Nyeh…I don't see what your milkshake bringing all the boys to the yard has to do with anything, sir!" protested Himiko, in response to one question. At least the interpreter provided equally inaccurate translations of Tenko's frequent tirades about the low standards of British policing.

Eventually, the multiple charges of kidnapping, assault, burglary and possession of offensive weapons that they were threatened with were dropped. Apparently, a Chief Superintendent told them, Mr Allman had insisted very vociferously to the Home Secretary, who happened to be the frontrunner for the Tory leadership now Allman himself had dropped out for "personal reasons," that the four of them had saved his bacon and should be given medals rather than be hauled into court.

"So we won't be pressing charges," said the Chief Superintendent, "but we still think it's in everyone's best interest if you leave the country immediately and, if I were you, I wouldn't expect to be granted visas to come back here any time soon. Obviously, we'll look into everything you say about Ultimate Despair and this Junky Hiroshima girl. To be honest, though, it all sounds a bit like Godzilla to me – best kept in Japan."

All four were very relieved, particularly Tenko and Himiko, whose flight back home was the next day in any case. They had both exhausted their limited rights to make phone calls by calling their parents and keeping up the pretence that nothing remotely weird was going on had tested their ingenuity to the limit.

This time, they all took the train to Heathrow together, although they were booked on to different flights.

"We owe you both so much," said Makoto to Tenko and Himiko, as the inaccurately-named Express crawled through the suburbs of West London. "We'll definitely keep in touch."

"In fact," said Komaru, "you should keep the Foundation in mind yourselves for after you graduate. We're always looking for new agents, although obviously it is kind of a secretive process. And, well, I think you already passed the practical test."

"Thanks!" said Tenko. "I'll certainly think about it. I mean, it should be more exciting than teaching PE!"

"Nyeh…I'll have to see whether it would fit in with my magic," said Himiko. She suspected Tenko was secretly rather keen on the idea. Himiko might read the manga, but Tenko had always been the one who yearned to be a superhero. And if she wanted to do it, she'd probably want Himiko to come along too…

Makoto's phone rang, and he excused himself so he could talk privately.

"Byakuya? We're heading for our plane now. How are things going back there?"

"Much better now you've apparently stopped calling me Mother Hen, Naegi. And now I don't have to worry about you ending up in an English jail for the next few years. Purely from the point of view of the Foundation's image, of course."

"Sympathetic as ever, Byakuya…did you get Junko's website shut down?"

"Yes, although that goddamn ISP really made us jump through hoops about it. But I'm more worried about Junko herself, or her AI version. She's out there in the internet and there's no real way to track her down. We'll hear from her again, Naegi, I can feel it in my bones, whether it's tomorrow or ten years from now. Time means nothing to her now."

Makoto sighed. "I guess so. Well, there's nothing to be done about that. Only wait."

"Well, I do have some better news for you, at least," said Byakuya. "Someone you've probably been wanting to hear from is here. Come on, Chick Two, say hello to Egg!"

"Hello, dear," said another familiar voice, female this time.

"Kyoko!" said Makoto. "How are you, darling?"

"I'm fine. Although I'm so huge I'm actually joining the call from the sofa at home. You'd better not get distracted on the way back, Makoto…you know it's only a fortnight to the due date now! When Byakuya told me you were in custody, I thought you would miss the birth for sure. I can't believe you got arrested on your first overseas mission!"

Makoto laughed, "Nor me. I suppose I've still got a lot to learn about being a secret agent."