Naegi blinked at the green-eyed Monokuma for a moment longer, as though the lightning bolt might snap back to its usual blazing red if he waited long enough. But it didn't even flicker, streaming strong and clear above the bear's sharp-toothed growl.

"You — what are you —" Junko's words trailed off in a snarl of frustration, teeth clenched in a grimace of fury as she glared at the robot. She looked angry, like he'd never seen her before — but then again, he'd seen her cycle through so many masks that he couldn't say for sure if this one might be genuine. Could she be faking — trying to trick them by setting another trap?

He glanced towards Chihiro's empty podium, where a monitor with Alter Ego's face had been throughout the trial. The image had reverted to the gray portrait of Chihiro's frozen face, but now marred by static crackling across the screen, with only the occasional blip of green among the monochrome emptiness.

"I couldn't just sit there and let you hurt my friends."

The voice was still Monokuma's, as creepy as ever — but he would never have said those words. No malicious jokes peppering his speech, no cruel laughter hidden in every syllable — just simplicity and sincerity, two things that Monokuma never had.

"Alter Ego?" Kyoko's eyebrows both arched up as she stared at the robot. "I thought you couldn't see what was going on from that monitor." She looked up, scanning the now-visible ceiling until a flash of understanding crossed her face.

Naegi turned to follow her gaze up to the flat gray concrete above them. At first, all he could see were the guns clustered in dark patterns across the ceiling, aimed to crisscross every part of the room — but then he forced his eyes past them, focusing in on the area above the circle. A collection of ceiling-mounted cameras aimed down at the trial grounds, capturing every move he and his friends made.

"It wasn't that hard to hack into them," Alter Ego said, his hesitant shyness sounding bizarre in Monokuma's voice. "Not when I didn't have to worry about anyone noticing."

"You can do that from here?" Naegi asked, startled. Obviously it must have happened, or Alter Ego couldn't be talking to them — but he wouldn't have thought that Junko would risk letting the Ultimate Programmer's brilliant AI have a connection to the network.

The robot looked down with a bashful blush that Monokuma had only ever used mockingly. "Well, no, I couldn't do anything here. But it was pretty easy from the data center." He gave a little laugh, and for the first time that sound didn't send a chill down Naegi's spine. "Once I got off the laptop, physical location didn't really matter anymore — and it's not like I need to be in just one place at once."

Crack — the sound of metal slamming on metal snapped through the room, freezing Naegi's response in his throat. His eyes shot towards the sound — and he saw Junko with on hand flat against the armrest of her throne, eyes boring into the computer screen.

"Pretty sure I warned you about this once before," she said, her voice as light and breezy as if they were chatting over tea. Her fingers curled down around the armrest, one nail scraping along the metal edge with a too-high screech that made Naegi wince. "Don't interfere with the school's computer systems."

Alter Ego turned towards the throne, tilting back the robot's head to look up at her. "No, I remember… but they're all risking their lives to fight you in this trial. If I can do anything to help them, even if it isn't much… then I can't just sit back and ignore it."

"Really? Man, I guess that proves once and for all you aren't human!" She laughed. "I mean, sitting back and ignoring suffering is what people do best, right? Takes a talking toaster to do something different." She tilted her head. "Maybe you've got those robotics laws crammed in your code somewhere, that'd explain why you're being so stupid."

"No." Alter Ego shook his head. "I — I'm not doing this because I have to, or because my code is making me. I want to protect everyone."

"Oh, yeah?" A knife-edged smile split Junko's face wide. "Then I guess nothing forced you to meddle in the trial. You just wanted to break your word." She lifted her hand again to dart across another coil of the throne.

"No — no, don't!"

Before he could decide whether it was a good idea or not, Naegi threw his wheelchair forward, rocketing into the center of the circle between Alter Ego's robot and Junko's throne. He glared up at her, wishing uselessly for the strength to pull her away from her stock of traps and weapons — but even at his best, without any injuries or exhaustion dragging him down, he doubted he could face her on any kind of equal footing. If he wanted to stop her, he only had his words.

But maybe that was all that he needed.

He raised his chin, meeting Junko's eyes head on. "You're not going to hurt Alter Ego. I won't let you."

It sounded ridiculous, on the face of it. What could he do to prevent her from hurting anyone? How could he order her to stop killing? Only the mastermind could make that decision —

Which was why she had to do it. If her plan revolved around convincing the others that he'd been the mastermind all along, she couldn't turn around and disobey him now.

And she knew it, too. Her eyebrows flicked upwards for a moment, before her expression relaxed into an accommodating grin. "Well, if you're gonna put it like that, sweetie — who am I to say no to a friend?"

He flinched back at the word, dirtier than the worst curses when she said it. Had this been a terrible idea? She'd already begun to spin it against him, he could hear it in her voice. Maybe he should never have interfered…

But when he looked behind him, he could see that the green hadn't faded from the robot's eyes. Alter Ego was still there. And as long as they were all still here… then maybe there was still a chance.