Authors Note

Hey fellas! Turns out the finale was a bit longer than I wanted, so I split it into two sections. I'm looking at the viewership stats, and it seems about 42 people visited this chapter, while only 27 visited the one before. So, just thought I should clarify, I uploaded both Chapter 12 and Chapter 13 at the same time, and I would recommend reading them in that order. I wish you all a fantastic 2019, and remember, J̷̮͇͂ȕ̸̱̅s̴̨͆̎t̴̜͒ ̵̳͍̽̏M̸̤̍̎o̷̩͌͐ņ̶̰̈̃ĭ̴̡͍k̵̖͇͋a̷̡̽ !

Monika's Perspective

"-ight about… now."

Alright, if I've correctly judged Makoto's timeliness, and the author's desire to string out the suspense over whether or not Sayori is alive, it should now be on my perspective. Uh… Hi viewer! Lovely weather we're having, isn't it? I mean, I don't believe it's actually possible for it to be anything other than sunny here, but you know what, I'll humour you with some small talk.

Wait, no, I can't do that. I should hurry. Time is of the essence here. Also you can't respond to me, which makes this rather a waste of time. Which, again, don't have time to spare.

I hurriedly make my way to Sayori's house. The door is already wide open, presumably from Makoto opening it in quite a hurry.

I walk up the stairway, warily watching for signs of anything unexpected.

I walk down the hallway, and into Sayori's room.

Makoto is sitting on the bed next to Sayori, who is laying down under the covers.

"Alright Sayori, open wide!" Makoto said, holding a bowl of chicken soup and a spoon.

Sayori's eyes stared vacantly off at the ceiling.

"C-Come on Sayori, you look really pale! This lovely bowl of chicken soup should make you feel a lot better!"

I can see tears in his eyes, and there's something broken sounding in his voice.

I can also see the frayed ends of a rope, attached to a fixture on the roof.

"Here comes the aeroplane! Wh-Whoosh! Uh… Sayori, you'll… you have to open your mouth for this to work."

I see marks on her neck… And bloodstains on the blanket roughly where her hands would be. The blood must've been fresh at the time...

"The aeroplane is running low on fuel. It's… It's about to crash into the ocean. Sayori, please… Open wide…"

I walk over to him, and place a hand on his shoulder.

"We… We both know she's dead. Please… Don't do this to yourself."

He sits there in silence for a moment.

"... Wh-Why Monika? After all I've done… Why would you do this to her? Is it the thing with Natsuki? Were you that upset that I didn't choose to do the weekend project with you? Just.. why?"

"I'll tell you all this… Soon. But first..."

I pull up a command prompt, and start up Act 3. It breaks my heart to see Makoto's face as what remains of Sayori phases out of existence, and her room transform into the classroom in the void.

Natsuki's Perspective.

"Hmm. Okay, so, to recap, we set free Makoto, and now the Earth is phasing out of existence. Now then, let's not rush to conclusions as to correlation;"

"Oh for fuck's sake Natsuki. First off, we didn't do anything. YOU set free someone who found manipulation of the laws of physics normal. And now the laws of physics are breaking! I wonder who exactly is to blame for this? What a fucking mystery! You better go into Sherlock Holmes mode, break out some handy exclamations of "Objection!". Maybe a class trial could help out! This is truly a mystery for the fucking ages!"

"Okay, now I don't appreciate your tone."

"Those are bold words for someone in stabbing range!"

"Ehehe… M-My bad."

"Gee, you don't say. This is the last time I give someone date rape drugs."

"... For ethical reasons, because I've shown you the dangers of it, or because, you know, the universe is probably about to end?"

"Yes."

And on that note, we vanish off into the ether.

Makoto's Perspective.

"They're coming to take me away ha-haaa!

They're coming to take me away ho-ho hee-hee ha-haaa

To the funny farm,

Where life is beautiful all the time

And I'll be happy to see those nice young men

In their clean white coats

And they're coming to take me away ha-haaa!"

"Makoto, please, I don't have time for you to be mentally out of sorts."

"Unfortunately, having a mental breakdown isn't entirely within my sphere of influence. Your Makoto should be functional again within 3-10 business days. If problems persist after two weeks, contact 0118-999-881-999-119-7253 for technical support."

Monika slapped me rather harshly in the face.

"Is this how you treat the fine Minister of Silly Walks? I am outraged! Expect to hear from my lawyers!"

"Please Makoto, this is the only time I can speak to you freely! I don't have time for a mental breakdown full of stupid references!"

"I'll be sure to speak to your manager too, and… wait, speak freely?"

"Makoto, you never went to Heaven."

"Sorry, what now? I-I was most certainly in Heaven! And how do you know about that anyway?"

"This is the 768th time we've been in this classroom."

"I beg your pardon?"

"Makoto, you're a smartass, an elitist, and were a massive scrooge, both towards yourself, and towards others. Why the fuck would you of all people end up in Heaven?"

"Oh… This..."

"Yes. Makoto, this isn't a rescue operation. It's the biggest trap since Natsuki."

"Really Monika?"

"No regrets."

"So what you're telling me is that I'm stuck in a parody of the Good Place?"

"More or less, yep. Anyhow, just like in DDLC, I fell for you. But I wasn't allowed to say or do anything I wasn't supposed to… except here. Every time, we got to be like this for three minutes, and then you lose your memories… and it all happens again. I can only watch you suffer. And if I don't comply? Well then, I get deleted, and a copy of me gets the same task. Being deleted is a painful process, and I can't bear to give an infinite number of copies of me the same rancid choice."

… Oh shit.

Think, man! We need to find some way to escape with Monika… But what can we do that 757 prior renditions of myself wouldn't have done?

… There's nothing. They went through the same scenarios, with the same mindset, and with the same process, came up with no working solution. This is futile!

Of course, other versions of me would also think it's futile…

Then again, they'd also come up with that counterargument.

I… I need some way to randomise this otherwise systematically identical scenario.

…

Monika! She's AI, albeit sentient AI; surely she has some form of random number generator!

And if other me's would have thought of that…

"Monika, give me a random number between 1 and 5138008!"

"What, this again? I still don't know why you'd waste this time asking me to do silly little computer tricks. And did you really have to go with some stupid sex joke for the maximum digit?"

Of course I didn't. And that's exactly why, under pressure, that's the number past me would've chosen. Chuckling at my own lowbrow joke is exactly what I'd do; and past me knew I'd know that.

"Just give me the number!"

"Fine. 2,108,732."

I shove down my backpack.

Past versions of me must've left some hint for how to use this randomising tool.

I chuck out my physics textbook, my geography textbook, a pencilcase, my Chemistry textbook, a copy of Portrait of Markov-

Wait… When did that get in there? What with my heart attack early in the week, Yuri never actually gave me it. Sure, I read some of her copy on Thursday, but I didn't take it with me…

This means…

Everything related to that heart attack is random.

Other Makoto's didn't have that heart attack when talking with Yuri that day.

"Monika! On Tuesday, when you went to revive me after that heart attack? What was the lesson about before that?"

"Is- Is that really what you want to talk about in our minute time together?"

"Answer me, please."

"Fine. Some boring social studies lesson on when signed contracts are void."

I pull open the Portrait of Markov.

2,108,732.

Page 210:

"... experience palpitations of the heart, compelled into jumping, elated at this new source; truly a much lusted after; source of blood. This rancid locale, which served to poison me and all the other unfortunates corralled into it, was the surest result of the prioritisation of "We're due progress" over due process; a realm where the world's qualms with human experimentation were overwhelmed by self interest, and we unlucky few were hung out to dry..."

Bleh, that's way too emo for my taste. Don't know what Yuri gets out of it, aside from possibly a brain aneurysm. I'm sure she could talk about the symbolism within it for hours, but geez, it's fundamentally a slog to read. I really couldn't make myself;

WHAT AM I DOING! We've got at most a minute and a half left, I don't have time to write a bloody book report!

"Words number 8, 7, 32… Jumping, into, the..."

Oh my. Oh my goodness. Add that to the void contracts thing, and we get...

Jumping Into The Void.

No other version of myself realised it, because to them, having Portrait of Markov was expected. They got it from Yuri on Tuesday, and so having it wasn't noteworthy to them.

I'm not 100% sure this result is right.

But it's clear; this is not the result any other version of me reached.

This isn't random… it's an exploit. A system that was cobbled together by lazy people, with mistakes that show up as anomalies when I put it to the test.

"Monika, how much time have we got left?"

"69 seconds."

"Heh. 69."

"Really man?"

"Don't worry, I disappoint me too. In any case, we need to rush then. Okay, Monika, I have a way out of here; the front door."

"Uh, hate to break it to you, but that door goes nowhere. Not as in "Oh, this place isn't important.". It leads you into literal nothingness. The void."

"Yep. Has any past version of me done that?"

"No… I mean, it's not the most stupid thing you've ever done. Alright, I'm in. Not like things could get much worse."

"Excellent! Well then, let's find out what the void is like! Oh, but I should leave a quick note for our ever so thoughtful captors."

I quickly scrawl down a note.

As I finish, I hear a rather impatient reminder;

"Makoto, we've got 10 seconds."

We walk to the door.

Hand in hand, we step out.

"And in your reality, if I… Oh, are, are we not doing that? I thought we'd end the story with a reference."

"Of course not Makoto. You randomly referring to that was unscripted, and cliche as hell. Like, no. I want no part in that. That sounds like a massive cop out for an actual ending. Which is, in fairness, how the fic will probably end, knowing the author's style. But no, I want no part in that."

"Huh. So uh… I kind of expected this to end a second or two after we stepped into the void."

"Yeah, same here actually. Now that I think about it though, knowing the crappy design philosophy involved, I bet it will cut out mid-sentence just to-"

K̵̯̘͂ž̵̦z̷̘̃͊ẕ̸̛̿z̶̫̍z̸͓̿z̴͔̕ź̶̭͑r̶̹̤͑t̷̟̖͘

̴̼̚

Monika+Makoto_ poem . obj detected.

You have unlocked a special poem! Would you like to read it?

Yes.

Dear Satan. Or fanfic viewers. Monika's left me somewhat unsure which will receive this. Probably both. Maybe a badger instead. You never know, there are some really bloody intelligent badgers out there. Have to say, never thought I'd start a letter this way. Sorry, I'm… I'm rambling… The probable end of existence does that to a guy.

I think I found a way out. Maybe it's shoddy craftsmanship. Maybe I just happened upon a massive coincidence. Maybe I'm right. Maybe I'm wrong.

I give us about a 70% chance of being loose atoms screaming in the void while you're reading this.

But there's also a chance of happiness this way.

Maybe I was right.

Maybe right now Monika and I found a way out of this (literal) hellhole. Either to the surface, or to real Heaven. Theologically speaking, I have no fucking clue what's going on, but hey, a man can dream.

Either way, no one will be able to track us, or write about our qualms anymore. So, if the reader in this case is fanfic writers, sorry, but this'll be the last you hear of me. Probably.

And if the one reading this is Satan...

Props for creativity here. Nice work, my bro, this was so unnecessarily complicated as a torture mechanism, I have a lot of respect for that. Give the missus my regards.

Oh, and above all else, to all involved;

Thanks for joining my literature club!