It was only after a class trial that one could expect the hallways of the school to be so quiet. Yet a class trial hadn't been held in over a week. The cafeteria, usually abuzz with conversation (or, whenever Byakuya or Touko showed their faces, arguments), was eerily silent. Breakfast was skipped by mostly every member of the class. Instead, they sat on their chairs, staring at the surface of the table, barely saying a word to each other spare the occasional whisper.

Despite having Sayaka sitting aside him, she and Makoto had barely spoke in the last two days. Two nights ago, the nightmares had begun. Every night, they had come, each as twisted as the last, sparing absolutely no-one.

Even Kyoko, arms folded over her chest, looked disturbed.

Dark circles were visible around the eyes of everyone in the room. Sleepless nights had become common. Yawns had grown more typical, as quiet as they were.

Makoto's attention turned to a pair sitting at the end of the table together. Side-by-side, shoulders perfectly square, they both huddled closely together, black coat and white uniform huddling together for security. Kiyotaka and Mondo looked just as horrified as each other, skin a ghostly pale. Since the nightmares began, they were together every minute of the day. The joy and enthusiasm had been sucked out of them by the terrors of their dreams, but it had only brought them closer.

Occasionally, Kiyotaka would whisper something to the biker, tears in his eyes, and Mondo would respond with a pat on his back, pulling him in closer. It seemed that their support for each other was the only thing holding their sanity together.

The situation was bad.

Awful.

It verged on unbearable.

Yet as bad as everything was, no-one had died yet. No-one had caved in to the pressure and snapped. Everyone was still alive. And that was good!

...Right?

If someone died, the nightmares would stop. The onslaught of horrors at night would finally cease. They would all finally be able to sleep again. Yet a good night's sleep was not worth another death and another high-stakes class trial. Even if it meant they never slept again, thought Makoto, they had to resist Monokuma's plans.

Murder was what he wanted.

It was their job to deny him of it.

"I'm… I'm so tired," Chihiro muttered to herself, breaking the silence in the room. "I just want to sleep."

"Don't sleep," said Sakura. "Stay awake."

"Sleeping would be like drinking salt water when you're dehydrated," Asahina added. "It's tempting, but it'll only make it worse. It's a vicious cycle."

All of their voices lacked their usual spark and enthusiasm. They sounded lacklustre. Drained. Utterly exhausted. Exactly how Makoto felt.

Standing up from her seat, Chihiro made her way out of the room. "I need a bath," she said quietly, hands clasped in front of her as she walked.

Makoto knew what that meant.

She was going to check up on her pet project.

The phrase she uttered had practically become a secret code of sorts at this point – a way of avoiding the scrutiny of the cameras and Monokuma's ever-watching eye.

It wasn't long before Asahina and Sakura got up and left too, most likely heading to the same location. Celeste followed close behind the pair. Kyoko went shortly after her until, one by one, the inhabitants of the dining hall made their way to the bathhouse.

Makoto had once read that staring at screens kept you awake for longer. As he made his way into the bathhouse, he hoped that same rule applied to looking at Alter-Ego. In spite of how heavy his eyes were, he had no intentions on sleeping any time soon.

Chihiro wasted no time in booting up Alter-Ego, not hesitating in typing into the keyboard while the others watched on, reading her words aloud as she typed.

"Hello, Alter-Ego."

"Hello, Master!"

"Have you made any progress on the network's firewalls?"

"I haven't made much – it's really, really difficult to crack. It's almost too advanced for me to be able to solve, but I think I might just be able to do it. It's taking a while, I know. I'm sorry! It's only a matter of time until we break through it!"

Makoto had been hoping for something a little more hopeful than that. While Alter-Ego had said it with as much enthusiasm and optimism as possible, it had been a week since the first attempts to breach the firewall had been initiated. With so little progress made, was it really possible that it would ever be broken?

No. That was just the exhaustion talking. Alter-Ego was right. They would break it eventually. It was only a matter of time.

Time that they didn't have.

"Did you find anything else?"

"Actually," Alter-Ego replied, "I have! Master, you told me yesterday that Monokuma has given you all nightmares. I did some digging around in the little pockets of data I've been able to access, and I found something that I think could be important!"

"What did you find?"

"I found out how Monokuma has been giving you all nightmares. When everyone is asleep, a substance called Akumu gas is being pumped into your rooms. It's impossible to see or smell, but it can alter cognitive functions. It messes with the part of the brain responsible for dreaming, which in turn gives you all nightmares!"

Mondo shook his head at the computer's response.

"Wait, wait, wait," he said, "that doesn't make sense. There isn't any way to get it into the room. I didn't see no vents anywhere."

He was right. Makoto had already searched his room extensively and hadn't noticed anything like that. There wasn't even a gap under the door to pump gas through, either.

"How is the gas dispersed?" Chihiro typed again, continuing to read her questions aloud to the rest of the room.

"From the data, it seems that the gas is dispersed from the screens in your rooms. The little televisions fixed onto the wall, I mean. The speakers function as emitters for the gas. Monokuma simply pushes a button, and the gas sprays out of the TV while you're asleep."

Despite their collective exhaustion, the class still had enough energy left to voice their shock. Makoto joined them in their surprise.

The same TV that Monokuma appeared on every morning, telling them to 'rise and shine'… it was also a method for driving them to madness, too? Where did Monokuma and the puppetmaster controlling him get their ideas?

Better yet, he wondered – how did they go about stopping them?

"If you cover up the speakers with something," Alter-Ego continued, "you might be able to stop the gas from being dispersed. At the very least, it'll minimise the amount that comes out, which should help reduce the intensity of your nightmares!"

In truth, Makoto just wanted his nightmares to completely stop, but a reduction was better than a continuation of them in their current form. He needed a reprieve from it all. Anything that could help, he would do it.

"If we stop the gas," said Kyoko, "it would render Monokuma's motive useless."

"Meaning no-one has to die," Sakura added.

"Exactly."

"Then what are we waiting for?" Mondo, arm around Kiyotaka (and practically dragging him with him), made his way for the doors. "Let's go get 'em covered!"

"I'm sorry I couldn't be of more help," Alter-Ego sighed, "but I hope that information can be of some use!"

"Thank you Alter-Ego. You're doing great," Chihiro typed. "You might have just saved us."

Okay, so it wasn't perfect, but who cared? Makoto, standing alone in his room, was too tired to be a perfectionist right now.

Having grabbed some of the spare outfits from his wardrobe, he had taken a couple of his hoodies and shoved them over his TV. It wasn't ideal, and there was every chance that small traces of gas could still seep through the fabric, but there were no other options right now. Less gas was better than more gas. For the time being, it would have to do.

He turned his attention to the camera hanging from the ceiling. It was watching him. He looked straight back at it. Monokuma would definitely have seen his method of gas prevention. In fact, he was just waiting for him to pop up any second now, scolding him and demanding that he uncover the speakers. If it interfered with the motive, something told him Monokuma wouldn't be happy about it.

Yet there was no sign of the teddy bear at all.

That was strange.

Makoto waited for another few minutes.

Yet still, the headmaster didn't come.

Maybe he hadn't seen it yet. Somehow. As little sense as that made.

Maybe he would see it later and freak out, and try and punish him for it.

Either way, later was later and now was now. He would cross that bridge when he came to it.

Makoto yawned.

Screw it.

It was time for a nap.

Knock-knock-knock.

Makoto grumbled.

Knock-knock-knock.

"No, Mom… I don't wanna wake up yet..."

Knock-knock-knock-knock-knock-knock-knock-knock-knock.

Bitterly, Makoto pulled himself out of his slumber. Considering that he wasn't screaming and sweating and crying and shaking right now, he was confident that his sleep had been nightmare-free.

Alter-Ego was right.

Without the gas, the nightmares were gone.

The motive had been rendered useless.

Take that, Monokuma!

Knock-knock-knock-knock.

Oh, right. The door. That's what had woken him up in the first place.

Dragging himself toward his door as he rubbed the sleep from his eyes, Makoto's hand met the handle. He pulled it open, instantly hit with a barricade of sound the moment his guest came into view.

"M-Makoto! Please! Please help! It's the art room, it's… it's terrible! It's horrible! I don't know what to do!"

Sayaka stood before him, tears cascading like waterfalls down her tired face, her hands fidgeting, shoulders stiff, feet and eyes permanently in a state of unrest.

"Sayaka? What's wrong?"

"The art room! Please! Please, come with me! You have to hurry, Makoto! We need to do something otherwise… I… it… p-please, let's just go!"

"Sayaka, breathe! Calm down! What's going on?"

She replied with no more than gibberish and babbling, shaking her head with disbelief as she continued to insist that he come with her. Before he could offer her an answer, she was already seizing his hand, rushing off down the hallway with him being pulled alongside her.

Chihiro appeared ahead, leaving the bathhouse. She turned, apparently surprised to see them both. Especially considering the state that Sayaka had gotten herself into.

"Sayaka? Makoto? W-What's wrong? Are you both okay?"

Sayaka wasted no time. "Chihiro! Please! You have to come with us! We're heading to the art room – it's an emergency. An emergency!"

The appeal clearly took her by surprise, just as it had done with Makoto a few seconds ago. Just like him, she decided to tag along, following close behind the blue-haired pop idol.

"Sayaka, what's going on? Y-You're scaring me a little. M-Makoto looks worried, too. Please, talk to us!"

"The art room," Sayaka repeated. "I just walked in and… oh, it's horrible. It's horrible! We need to hurry!"

The way she was talking, combined with her manic breathing and tiny pupils made it clear that she was having some sort of panic attack. What could have caused it?

Well. There was one thing that Makoto could think of.

Surely not, though.

It couldn't be.

No. It wouldn't be. Everything was fine! It was probably just much ado about nothing! He was just on-edge, that was all. Just like Sayaka was right now as she practically dragged the Lucky Student and the Programmer up the stairs behind her.

The trio continued their journey up to the third floor, which they eventually arrived. More attempts were made to get through to Sayaka, but none of them had proved to be successful. She was lost in her own world; utterly and unquestionably traumatised.

At long last, they made it to the third floor.

They made their way down the hall. They turned the corner. Makoto could see the sign for the Art Room up ahead. Why did those two words suddenly make him feel sick? Why was he being flooded with dread?

Why did he have such a bad feeling about this?

They came to the doors.

Sayaka – her hand shaking so much that she could barely take hold of the handle – managed to find the courage to open them.

Makoto looked to Chihiro.

Chihiro looked to Makoto.

Both of them stared forward as the door slid open and the interior of the Art Room came into view.

When Alter-Ego had earlier declared that the motive – Monokuma's way of encouraging another murder – could effectively be diffused, the feeling of hope had been incredible. When Makoto had been able to wake up nightmare-free, thus proving the theory, he was delighted. He was convinced they had overcome Monokuma's attempts to divide them once again. With a motive, no one else was going to die. Without a motive, they wouldn't lose anyone else.

Oh, how wrong he had been.

The world grew darker. Makoto's eyes scanned the gruesome scene in front of him. A series of banging, crashing, wailing sounds of despairing pollution, all of which existed only in his head, drowned his ears in madness.

It had happened again.

Makoto felt the urge to vomit. Sayaka continued to wail next to him. Chihiro looked ready to collapse.

Neon-pink blood was splattered all over the floor. It was more blood than Makoto had ever seen. A body lay on the floor amidst the miniature ocean.

Its head was missing.

Usually, Makoto thought, it might have been difficult to identify a decapitated corpse.

Only, he knew the body's clothes too well to have any doubts.

He would have recognised the white uniform anywhere.

There, on the blood-soaked floor in front of him, was the body of Kiyotaka Ishimaru.