Maki was the first to step out of the hotel doors, her arm wrapped tightly around Odafe's torso. In her other hand she leveled the Programmer's pistol, reloaded and ready to rip open his neck the moment he or anyone else made a sudden movement. Fortunately, her hostage seemed too groggy and terrified to attempt any heroics: he whimpered as she shoved him down the rain-slicked steps, too terrified to even meet her eyes.

"Remember," Kokichi muttered as the other Ultimate's joined her in a tight formation. "Don't let them get a clear shot on Maki. I wouldn't be able to live with myself if anything happened to her."

Maki grit her teeth, but resisted the urge to rise to Kokichi's bait. It wasn't worth it—not when freedom was so tantalizingly close.

And yet, as the front gates opened, a needle of doubt pricked the edges of Maki's resolve. Whatever Paris, Kokichi, and Himiko had done to get into the hotel, it had drawn a lot of attention; the crowds waiting in the streets had somehow doubled in hours, becoming a sea that stretched far into the distance. A line of armor-clad riot cops stood like a dam in front of the roiling mob, their parked cars and armored vans forming an impromptu blockade.

A searchlight swept the escaping Ultimates, causing Maki's body to tense. This was an assassin's worse nightmare: outnumbered, outgunned, and utterly exposed, lit from all sides by the garish light of flashing sirens and babbling holo-ads. Still, she kept her breathing steady, and her paces measured. As much as it pained her to admit it, the only way forward was to follow Kokichi's plan. For once, she hoped the Overlord was as clever as he claimed to be.

Fortunately, events were already playing out according to his predictions. As Maki stepped further into the light, gasps of recognition raced through the assembled crowd. Suddenly, a cheer erupted from the front line, its exuberance and elation crashing through the rest of the masses like a tidal wave. All at once, the cries of surprise and excitement rang out:

"It's the Ultimates! They're coming this way!"

"Oh my god, they're all here! Shuichi, Maki and Himiko too!"

"Is that Kokichi? He's really back?"

"Shuichi, marry me!"

"I love you, Maki Roll!"

"Himiko, cast a spell on me, please!"

Maki bristled. The air was crackling with energy now, too much to be contained or easily dispersed. It was like staring into a brewing storm, flickers of electricity threatening to strike the earth at any moment.

The assembled police seemed to share her instinct for danger. They glanced nervously at one another as the Ultimates approached, caught between competing impulses and protocols. Even with their faces obscured, Maki could tell the cops weren't expecting to be caught in between a hostage crisis and a brewing riot. One wrong move on their part, and all hell would break loose. No wonder they were so hesitant to react.

With less than a hundred meters to go, Paris took her cue. She stepped into the front of the formation, pumping her fist in the air. "Free the 53rd!" she shouted. "Free the 53rd!"

The front line of protestors followed her lead, their clenched hands erupting towards the heavens in a furious sign of support. "Free the 53rd!" they repeated, the call rippling from one end of the street to the other.

"Let them go!" Paris chanted. "Let them go! Let them go!"

"Let them go!" a chorus of voices shouted back. "Let them go! Let them go!" With each repetition, the chant crew in volume and fervor, echoing through the avenues and alleyways until it formed an almost unrecognizable cacophony. One of the police officers bellowed into a bullhorn for calm, but Maki couldn't even make out his words over the feverish din.

It was working. Just as Kokichi had said it would.

The police line was now right in front of the 53rd class. Maki could feel the uncertainty and fear pulsing in their ranks. The threat of a full-scale breakdown was keeping them in check, but there was still a chance a renegade officer would try to take matters into his own hands. Maki kept her head on a swivel as she stepped past the first cruiser, waiting as the rest of her friends followed suit.

"Nyeh, I'm scared," Himiko whispered.

"It'll be okay," Kokichi said. "If you hold your breath, cops can't touch you."

"I think that only works for ghosts," Paris pointed out.

"There are ghosts here?" Kokichi gasped. "Where?"

"That's enough, Kokichi," Shuichi muttered. "You're not helping."

There was movement in the corner of Maki's vision. She turned to see the riot cop closest to her shift in place, appearing to square up with her position. She pressed the gun barrel harder into Odafe's neck, shooting an icy glare at the threatening officer. "Do you want to die?" she asked. "Don't even think about taking another step."

Her opponent stiffened, then relented, his shoulders slumping. Maki recognized the gesture of resignation, as did the cop's companions. Nobody else made a move as the Ultimates cleared the blockade.

"Good job, Maki," Paris said under her breath. "Only you would be able to stop a riot squad with a single look."

"See what I mean?" Kokichi smiled. "Maki and I may not get along, but I know she's the best at what she does. And what she does is freak people out."

"Whereas you just—ah!" Maki's breath caught midway through her retort. A woman with blonde hair, a pink sweater, and a skirt printed with music notes had just appeared out of the crowd in front of them. If Maki didn't know any better, she would've said it was…

"Kaede!" Shuichi gasped. He then quickly covered his mouth, mortified by his outburst.

The woman, however, was elated. "He thought I was Kaede!" she boasted to the surrounding people. "Did you hear that? He called me Kaede!"

"Don't listen to her, Shuichi!" another woman exclaimed, dressed in an identical outfit. "I'm the only Kaede you'll ever need!"

"Both of you stay back!" Kokichi shouted angrily. "You're distracting my detective!"

Maki hazarded a look back at Shuichi. His expression was still rattled, but his voice was steady. "It's fine," he muttered. "I just didn't expect them to look so…"

Maki nodded. Cosplayers were to be expected in a crowd like this, but even she was taken aback by how realistic the costumes looked. It was more than a little unnerving, but the Assassin couldn't complain: her escape depended on the imitators being as believable as possible. With so many people dressed as their favorite Danganronpa characters, picking out the real Ultimates at a glance would be nearly impossible, even for the surveillance drones hovering above.

"This is weird…" Himiko muttered, averting her eyes from a curious Korekiyo in the crowd. "I don't like it."

"Me neither," Paris nodded. "Don't these people have any respect?"

"Yeah, they should just stick to fantasizing about our love life," Kokichi quipped as he brushed passed a blushing doppelganger of himself. "That's so much more healthy."

Paris grinned. "It's only fantasy 'til it ain't."

"Hey…" Himiko's eyes narrowed. "What's that supposed to mean?"

While her colleagues tried to distract themselves with banter, Maki kept track of the distance they covered. The next phase of the plan would start soon, and it required precise timing and coordination. Her rhythm was briefly thrown off by the flash of a purple jacket, but she managed to remain focused on the mission. The lives of her friends depended on it.

"Himiko," the Assassin said as they reached the estimated center of the crowd. "You're up."

Himiko stopped walking, her legs quivering as she cleared her throat. "L...Ladies and g-gentlemen…" she mumbled, barely audible over the swarming fans.

"Uh oh," Kokichi sighed. "Looks like she's not up to it after all. Good thing we have so many replacement Himiko's close by."

"Ladies and gentlemen!" Himiko bellowed, jolting the surrounding spectators to attention. "Tonight, the great Himiko will perform her most daring vanishing act yet! But first, I need volunteers from the audience."

Instantly the Ultimates were surrounded by eager recruits, each one begging for her favor.

"I'll do it!"

"Me, pick me!"

"I'll be the best volunteer ever, Himiko! Nyeh!"

Himiko threw her hat up in the air like a signal flare, then caught it with a dramatic sweep of her arm. "Follow me!" she called.

With that, Himiko lead a mass march down an adjacent avenue, the size of the movement itself drawing additional bystanders along, forming a chain of newly minted magician's assistants. Maki kept scanning the cheering faces as she followed close behind, making sure no police officers or Danganronpa employees infiltrated the mob.

Odafe coughed. "Is-isn't this far enough?" he said, having apparently found enough courage to speak. "You've passed through the police, a-and your escape is within reach. I-If you let me go now, I-I'll tell them I haven't the foggiest idea where you went. Th-that the concussion prevented me from remembering anything! Yes, that's what I'll say, I swear on my family name."

"Shut it," Maki growled. "We're not done with you."

Odafe quivered. "Wh-what do you have to gain by b-bringing me along? Y-you're o-only going to m-make my employer a-angrier!"

"You say that like I should care," Maki said, her voice dangerously low. "But all I care about is getting you somewhere we can have a nice, long chat together. So save your breath—you're going to need it."

Odafe swallowed and said nothing more.

Maki noticed that Himiko and her new disciples were slowing. The Assassin looked up to see that they had arrived at their destination: a suite of multi-level parking garages arrayed end to end, each branded after a different Danganronpa character. Under normal circumstances, the lots were probably filled with tourist convoys and family mini-vans. Now they were packed to the gills with the vehicles of protestors, press, and anyone else drawn to the chaos at Hotel Danganronpa. Which made them a perfect smokescreen waiting to happen.

Security alarms blared as Himiko lead everyone into the Gundham garage, forcing her to shout to be heard. "Okay everyone! Now you need to get into your cars and drive out of here. The great Himiko and her Ultimate assistants will choose one lucky driver to be their ride out!"

The crowd quickly dispersed, each driver hoping to be the one to ferry the 53rd class to freedom. Of course, none of them would get the chance. Because…

"Nee-hee hee. Look at you go, Himiko," Kokichi giggled. "You're almost as good of a liar as I am!"

"Nyeh, don't compare yourself to me," Himiko frowned. "The lies of a magician and the lies of a person like you are totally different."

"I want to believe you, but how can I?" Kokichi tilted his head. "You've just proven yourself to be a liar!"

"Hey!"

"Focus," Maki cut in, stepping out of the way of an exiting sedan. "The clock is ticking."

"Alright," Shuichi said. "Let's split up on three. One…"

"Three!" Kokichi exclaimed, shooting off in the opposite direction.

"That damn idiot," Maki sighed, breaking away from the formation as well. Maybe if she was lucky, the Overlord would disappear for good. Though she doubted he would pass up the chance to gloat over a successful plan.

Maki shifted her grip on Odafe, shoving the gun under the back of his jacket, allowing him to walk relatively unencumbered. Now if she was careful, the two of them would appear like a cosplayer and a civilian walking through the swarming, chaotic mess of cars and hopeful fans. The other members of the 53rd class pulled a similar vanishing act, fanning out in random directions. With some luck, not even the people Himiko recruited as volunteers would be able to track where all the Ultimates went.

"Keep moving," Maki ordered Odafe. "If you even look at anyone funny, it will be the last thing you do. Understand?" The hitch she felt in his breath indicated he did.

After weaving through the mass of honking horns and shouting drivers for some time, Maki pivoted and pushed her hostage onward toward their actual destination: an inconspicuous emergency exit in the lower section of the garage. She cast one last glance over her shoulder, then grabbed Odafe by the scruff of his neck and pulled him outside.

"Run," she commanded, keeping one hand on his neck and the other on her gun. The two sprinted down a darkened network of alleyways, the most exposed they had been so far. If any cops found them now, they could easily have the Assassin cornered. Every brief flash of the spotlight or distant sound of footsteps shot a bolt of adrenaline through her muscles, her gun hand instantly snapping in the direction of the disturbance. But the way remained clear, her enemies no doubt too focused on the fleeing vehicles to scan the shadows.

As Maki approached the end of the last alleyway, a jet-black van screeched to a stop front of her. The Assassin stopped, drawing her aim on the vehicle, ready for an adversary to appear in the passenger window at any moment. Instead, the side paneling slid open, revealing a relieved Shuichi inside.

"You made it," he exhaled. "I was worried for a second."

"Don't be stupid," Maki chided him, shoving herself and Odafe into the cramped interior. "Of course I made it." Kokichi, and Himiko were there too, crammed together among all the wires and crooked monitors. Maki could feel the Overlord watching curiously as she took her seat and positioned Odafe in a corner, binding his arms with a spare extension cord.

"Honestly, I'm more surprised the computer guy made it too," Kokichi said. "I thought for sure Maki would plug him the moment we split up."

"If that were true, you wouldn't have left me with him," Maki retorted. "If you're gonna lie, at least put some effort into sounding convincing."

"Ah well," the Overlord smiled. "They can't all be gems."

Paris piped up from the driver's seat. "Alright kids, last call for a bathroom break."

Himiko raised her hand. "Uh, actually, I have to—"

"Just kidding!" Paris laughed, the van's tires squealing as she slammed on the gas. "This is the non-stop express to freedom. Next destination: your new home!"