—o, no, no, this can’t be happening…!

That’s Shuuichi’s first, utterly paralyzing thought when his spiraling brain catches up with reality, and he sees the spear in Kokichi’s hands. That this can’t be happening. This can’t be real. At the very least, that’s what he wants to think — and that’s what his mind seizes on in the suspended, endless moment where he grasps at straws and desperately tries to comprehend what is playing out right before his eyes. 

But this is real. He’s staring right at Kokichi, and the Spear of Gungnir is winking back at him from within his hands. It feels as though time has ground to a complete and utter halt — the nausea clawing up his throat is familiar enough in that respect — but this is happening, and no amount of time meddling will stop it; and through the blindsiding disbelief glazing over his brain, Shuuichi is left rooted in place regardless.

“Save us the soliloquy, drama queen. You are not the titular character of today’s tragedy.” Now she bangs her gavel down in front of her, and she’s quick to abandon it once she’s fully commanded the room again, now tapping a finger against her chin as she blinks owlishly down at the group of errant demigods still left without an assigned seat for…whatever she’s gearing up to. “Nah, that’s so last week. But the real shining star of today’s main event…let’s see, that would be…eenie, meenie, miney…”

Junko takes considerable time sustaining the tension of the moment as she switches her attention between each of the eight of them, as if there are any doubts as to who’s about to be called up to bat. When she finally deigns to speak again, she’s decided to drop the impish lilt in her voice, affect flat as she quits her attempted, bluffed suspense and levels her finger squarely at Shuuichi.

“…You, New Kid. You’re up.”

Obviously. But she still manages to beckon him forward in what is feasibly the most skin-crawling way possible.

Gundham’s throne room is smaller than Shuuichi would have assumed it to be, should he have spared a stray thought to the notion before actually being confronted with it. Somehow reserved, in comparison to the sprawling, ornate cathedral interiors that they bore witness to in Celestia’s Palace.

Much like what Shuuichi had gleaned from their time roaming the corridors, the throne room is funereal and cramped — windows that did once line the perimeter of the room have long been shuttered, or just boarded shut altogether. And alongside those same glowing torches affixed to the walls that have been searing his eyesight a brilliant sapphire blue, the room is artificially illuminated to a greater degree than the hallways had been by another, much more peculiar source:

That would be the hexagram sigil carved into and alight within the floor, the circumference of the complex, etched-in circle bleeding light the same color as the torches across most of the available floor space separating the entrance of the throne room from what awaits at the very heart of it.

As it had in Celestia’s Palace, the dimensions of Gundham’s blot out the oppressive atmosphere of its surrounding Underworld; a physical relief, certainly, but the anticipatory unease is hard to beat down, even while believing in himself and all of his friends as much as he does. The moment his body registers the absence of the supernatural heat he immediately breaks into the sweat he couldn’t before, thankful for the comparatively cooler air though it leaves him breathing much less evenly.

“…Hey, Shuuichi,” Kokichi begins eventually, tightly, very quietly, the first to get his mouth working now that the reality of what they’re getting themselves into has more concretely set in. “Y’remember that thing I said about the Nether in Minecraft?”

Perhaps predictably, Shuuichi’s the only one feeling up to offering a nervous laugh in response.

“Hey! Stop right there!”

“…But seriously, try and get some decent shuteye tonight, okay? I believe in all of us, duh, but hey — a good night’s rest can’t hurt when we’re trying to save the world, huh?”

By the time it strikes Shuuichi that it’s a good idea to respond to Kaede’s goodnight, he’s still in the middle of rubbing the back of his neck where he’d strained it hopefully not too badly from when Kokichi launched his whole body straight into Shuuichi’s a few minutes ago. She’s already halfway down the building with Maki by the time he has a hand free to wave back, so it’s Gonta that gets it instead, as he calls happily over his shoulder, “Goodnight, friends!” before pairing off with Kiibo towards their own room. Leaving Shuuichi—

“Seriously, man, who did you actually see in there?!”

“Jeez, this again? Give it a rest, you’re so obsessed with me!”

—with just Kaito and Kokichi to keep him company in this dark, smelly parking lot.

(or: a love story told in three parts — part 3!)

When Shuuichi wakes up the morning before the end of the world to the sound of his alarm, it is with a wide array of burdensome emotions weighing down and clogging up his chest.

Pretty sincere confusion, at what he vividly recalls from last night’s conversation with Kokichi. Electric, pulsating anticipation at the prospect that he’s going to see Rantarou again. A very unusual-for-him level of anger directed at the god that’s been holding his brother hostage for over a week, and the even worse goddess hidden at the heart of it all. Simmering, ever-present anxiety that reminds him of the many, many ways things could go from wrong to bad to worst.

It’s…kind of a lot, to put it lightly. 

(or: the beginning of the end, as it were)

“…But seriously, try and get some decent shuteye tonight, okay? I believe in all of us, duh, but hey — a good night’s rest can’t hurt when we’re trying to save the world, huh?"

Kaede’s voice a lingering hum in Kiibo’s sound receptors, she begins to move hand-in-hand with Maki, waving with her free one once more to the remaining group before walking alongside her towards their lodgings for the evening. And in anticipation of their early morning tomorrow, Kiibo is quite firm in their resolve to do the same. Paying no mind to Kaito and Kokichi’s continued bickering following the girls’ departure, Kiibo instead turns their focus to Gonta, holding in one large hand the key to their resting quarters for the night.

When they catch gazes, Kiibo smiles, and the one they receive in return leaves them feeling decidedly…happy. “Are you ready to find our room now, Gonta?”

(or: a love story told in three parts — part 2!)