Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Es sat on a loft overlooking the courtroom. The entire prison had gone dark except for the center of the courtroom (bathed in blue) and the spot where they were seated (a duller color). A screen hung above with a close-up camera feed of the lit area.

A cylindrical water tank stood in place of the courtroom’s table, with a plank perched on the far edge and stairs leading up to it.

The camera feed magnified some fish swimming in the tank.

Boxfish and clownfish.

Aren’t those the kinds of fish that Haruka’s mother owned? That Haruka killed?

Several footsteps drew near. One set seemed to stumble between the others. Soon, Es saw the figures marching up to the top of the tank.

The figures were all obscured by cloaks, surrounding a young man whose arms were folded and strapped together. Haruka.

He hung his head drearily, but his steps on the plank were shaky. The figures prodded him to step forward and forward and forward until he was at the edge.

Haruka looked up in Es’s direction. “Um… Warden-san, I’m s-sorry. I wasn’t good enough for you…”

His voice, though quiet, was amplified enough for Es to understand.

“No, Haruka, I’m sorry,” they responded. But Haruka didn’t seem to notice they said anything.

“If I am going to d… to die, I s-suppose there is no fighting it. But can you tell me… one thing…?” Haruka took a breath. “Did you forgive Muu-san?”

Es couldn’t tell Haruka the truth. It would be a cruel thing to say just before his death. But if he wasn’t going to hear anyway… Perhaps it was better if they just kept quiet.

“W-Warden-san, please answer me… Please tell me you forgave Muu-san! Please tell me! Please-”

One of the cloaked figures shoved him into the tank. Es was compelled to look up at the screen again for a closer look. Haruka was sinking head-first, with nary a struggle. His eyes were closed, and all his trembling ceased. It was as if the water calmed his nerves, making him oddly at peace among the tropical fish. At least Es’s lack of response didn’t get to him, a morbid relief.

Then the “platform” peeled away to reveal more of the tank with piranhas gathered underneath a net. The net detached itself from the sides of the tank.

Suddenly, underwater sounds played on the speakers. Was this tank equipped with specialized microphones…?

Es flinched as they heard Haruka’s distorted screams.

But they could not look away.

They were compelled not to look away.

Chapter Text

The light in the courtroom shifted to pink. The tank receded into the ground, leaving just the top of the stairs in its place. Es noted that the stairs had a slight curl to them.

Yuno was led in next. She had a dispassionate expression. The cloaked beings chained her hands to either side of the railing before stepping back. Yuno didn’t resist. The platform beneath her began to turn and rise slowly, revealing the helical shape of the stairs.

Es studied her face more closely on the screen but couldn’t tell if she was truly detached or trying to hide some fear beneath.

For a minute, the room was silent except for the mechanical sounds of the rising stairs.

Then Yuno spoke up.

“So this is what you’ve decided. I have a hard time believing it.”

Es did too. Something in the back of their head was screaming at them for changing their verdict like that. After two forgiven verdicts, how could they turn on her? But the information they learned in the third trial was too unsettling for them to let slide.

“I’m sorry,” they said, but they knew Yuno wouldn’t hear them.

“Haruka was before me, right? Were those his screams? They didn’t sound human. What did you do to him? You monster.”

Es had no defense for that. They couldn’t have known how the prisoners would die, but how could they subject them to the unknown?

“I told you that I’d beg for forgiveness if it came down to it, but you just handed it to me twice in a row. You created an acceptable version of me in your head, and when I utterly destroyed it, you turned on me.”

The stairs ground to a halt. Now Yuno was at eye level with Es. She sighed. “I can’t even bring myself to be that upset. I didn’t have high expectations to begin with, so if you’ll just get it over with-”

A thin rod flew in and pierced her low in the abdomen. She winced.

“So this is how I go. How fitting.” She sounded more annoyed than pained, and she wasn’t even bleeding.

Another flew in at a slightly different angle.

“It doesn’t… feel like anything…”

Another. “If you’re curious…” Another. “It’s like a bunch of needles.” Another. Another. Now the blood began to trickle around her.

Yuno clutched the railings. “I see…” Another. Another. She was starting to breathe more heavily. “You won’t stop until I…” Another. Another. “...reach my breaking point….” Another. Another. “Well, I won’t…” Another. Another. “...give you the…” Her breathing became labored.

Another. Another. “....satisf….” Another. Another. “Hff…” 

Another. Another. Another. Another. Another. Another. Another. Another. Another. Another. 

Her face contorted into a silent scream, but it seemed that she couldn’t make a sound, that expressing her pain would only compound it. Her mouth quivered as if she was trying to force words out through the agony.

Then the spirals of the stairs withdrew to one side, framing the path down. The chains broke off from the railing. The platform under Yuno slid away.

She fell.

Es was compelled not to look away.

Chapter Text

The tower of stairs folded into the ground like an accordion. Es was given a merciful break. A glass of water was placed on the armrest of their seat. They gulped it down quickly. When they looked back, the courtroom was now under a red glow.

Es heard the swears before the footsteps, albeit muted after a few seconds. When they looked back down at the courtroom, the stairs had been replaced with a stake.

Fuuta was dragged into the room kicking and screaming. Once the cloaked figures got him in front of the stake, they let go of his face.

“I heard what happened. You let two teenagers die horribly.” His voice quavered under the rough tone he projected. “How does this make you any better than me? You’re going to hell for this!” he yelled as his arms were wrenched behind the stake and chained in place.

Es was too emotionally exhausted to react. Even if Fuuta could hear them, responding wouldn’t do any good for the situation.

“Oi, asshole, don’t just sit there and look at me! Tell me! What the hell made you change your mind after all this crap? I thought you’d already seen me at my worst when you forgave me. So why?”

Es wasn’t sure. Was it that they didn’t like how he took their forgiveness—their pity—as a go-ahead to act however he wanted? Granted, that seemed to be how their verdicts went for everyone.

Fuuta’s voice rang out from behind Es. But it wasn’t the voice of the man standing in the courtroom.

It sounded familiar, though. They were sure they had seen those words before.

“Just because you’re a middle school girl doesn’t mean you can act like this.”

“Damn it!” the real Fuuta called out. “Why the hell are you bringing up this crap again?”

An unfamiliar voice responded, that of a young teenager. “I already told you I got permission to do that. Leave me alone!”

And then a chorus of other voices rang out, attacking the girl.

“I said I was sorry, dammit! If I could turn back the time and change things, I would! But I can’t! Is dying the only way I can make up for this?”

Six figures gathered in front of him. From Es’s vantage point, they could make out the shape of aerosol cans in the figures’ “hands”. They pressed the spray. The contents were smoky and left Fuuta coughing between words.

“What the… are you trying… what sort of…”

They all discarded the cans and procured matchbooks. They each pulled out and lit a match. Fuuta’s eyes widened in terror.

“H-hell no… get those damned… away from… you bastards!” He frantically tried to break free, rattling the chains to no avail.

They threw the matches at him. The flames were quick to take hold.

“Es! I swear! When this is all over… I’ll crawl out… depths of hell… drag you in here my-”

But he couldn’t fight the burning pain and the smoke in his lungs to finish his sentence.

Es knew he wouldn’t hear them, but they couldn’t help but mutter, “If you manage to do that, then I suppose I deserve it…”

It truly was a hellish sight to match Fuuta’s words.

But Es remained compelled to not look away.

Chapter Text

A sweet, floral aroma broke through the acrid stench of the third set. It was a jarring, nauseating combination.

Es wasn’t in the mood to eat or drink anything, but they wiped the sweat off their face with their glove in hopes of cooling down, at least. It did not help. How could it, when they hadn’t even seen half the blood that would be on their hands?

A large hourglass took center stage, glowing with a viscous golden substance that was sealed tightly in the top half. If the lights had changed to yellow at some point, it wasn’t readily apparent, given how well it matched the hourglass. 

The lower half was a garden of white lilies and chrysanthemums, with beehives and wasp nests distributed by the edge.

Sobs echoed from the hallway along with uneven footsteps. “I-I don’t wanna die! Not like the others! It sounded so horrible! Why are you stupid rabbits being so mean to Muu?” 

Wait , rabbits?

Muu stumbled into the room, ushered by cloaked figures holding her arms on either side. Her wrists were strapped together in front of her, but nothing else was inhibiting her movement.
“W-Warden… Warden-san! This is all a mistake!” she called out. “What happened to your kindness? I haven’t seen it since the first trial!” 

One of the figures opened a door in the hourglass.

“I thought you said I did nothing wrong! Why did you change your mind? Why would you pretend to be on my side for a short while if you were just going to betray me?”

The figures led Muu to the center of the hourglass and headed out.

“Wait! Wait! Are you just going to leave me here?” Muu tried to follow them out, but the broken heel of her shoe gave way, and she tripped. “Stop! I don’t want to die here!” But the figures closed the door on her.

Muu snapped the heels off her shoes and tip-toed over to the edge of the hourglass. She swung her arms up and pounded the cracks of the door’s outline, but they didn’t give way. The hives and nests near the glass rattled with every pound until agitated bees and wasps flew out from them.

“Let me out! Let me out!”

Her fists pounded on a bug, and she recoiled in pain.

“Warden-san! This is so cruel!”

Surely she knows this is only the beginning…

Muu retreated from the door, making her way back to the center.

The seal on the hourglass fell, causing a deluge of the contents above.

Muu stepped back as it poured in front of her, and some of it splashed onto her hands.

“Huh?” She gave it a taste. “Honey? Warden-san, you’re drowning me in honey!?”

She made her way to the edge again, but the insects flew closer to her.

“Warden-san!”

She tried to walk to a neutral ground, but her shoes were caught in the honey. She pulled her feet out of them and promptly stepped on a thorny stem.

“Warden-san! How can you be so cruel?”

Of course. The illusion of freedom, presented uniquely to her, was such a cruel thing to give. Unlike the previous three, who were ushered to their bitter fates, she was given a sliver of hope that she could at the very least sweeten it.

Eventually, the honey flooded the garden. Muu still had no luck avoiding the bees and wasps.

The honey reached ankle height, and she struggled to lift her feet enough to walk.

It reached knee height, and she was trapped quite off-center. All she could do was swat the insects which only made it worse.

And Es’s eyes, like Muu, were stuck on the scene.

Chapter Text

Es felt their stomach churning. Awful timing, wasn’t it? How were they going to survive if they couldn’t stomach the spectacle to the halfway point?

Luckily, someone had left an antacid on the table. Es took it without question; they had no reason to distrust Jackalope’s care for them, after all.

That wasn’t an antacid. It was a honey cough drop.

A perfect, detailed view of the courtroom, and they couldn’t even properly see what was on the table in front of them.

…

Why did they bother trusting Jackalope?

The sweet scent of the room did not dissipate, but some fresh notes wafted up.

A new garden of potted flowers sprung up in place of the hourglass, surrounding an operating table. The lilies and chrysanthemums now came in a variety of colors and were accompanied by wisterias, dahlias, and orchids, among others. And was that a bird of paradise at the head of the table?

Shidou calmly entered the room alongside the figures. He walked up to the operating table and lay down on it without any prompting, becoming still as a corpse. It was no surprise to Es that he would carry himself that way.

“Es-kun, you finally made the right choice.” He closed his eyes and relaxed as the cloaked figures (rabbits? Jackalopes?) strapped him down.

Es thought that Shidou’s acceptance of death would be assuring to them, but they felt a pit in their stomach. Death wish or not, how could they have been the one to decide?

One of the figures held out a scalpel. Es knew where this was going, but they tried to distract themself by trying to figure out just what was holding the scalpel.

The executioners made a slow vertical incision. 

Shidou clenched his fists, trying to bite back the pain. 

After a moment of reprieve, he spoke up.

“Es-kun… if you can hear me, you don’t have to feel g-”

And they peeled him open. 

He tried to choke back his words, but the crackle in his voice escaped his throat.

Es’s eyes were drawn to an organ small enough to fit in a hand. 

What was it called again? They hadn't brushed up on-

No, what were they thinking? (Anything that would distract them…)

An uprooted dahlia with a small patch of dirt at its roots. 

Lowered it into the freshly vacated spot.

Shidou was obviously in utter agony, unable to speak coherently. 

But he seemed to be telling Es he forgave them.

How could he? Es already had so much blood on their hands…

Es couldn’t tell what the next organ was except that it was larger. 

They tried their hardest to think about what it could be.

If only to keep themselves distracted from the horrifically garbled noises… 

And that flower… Was that an orchid? What did that mean in flower language…? 

All their sanity hinged on the meaning of this flower.

Another larger organ. Another flower planted in its place. 

Another organ. Another flower.

Es hoped that these inhuman figures would stop prolonging Shidou’s suffering. 

Hurry up and pick something vital.

But on their own, Es could not turn away from the scene.

Chapter Text

Would Es be interested in some tea to calm their nerves (and stomach) before the next execution?

They nodded as a warm mug was placed on the armrest. They raised it to their lips but spat out the tea as soon as they tasted it. Ugh, pomegranate.

In the courtroom, a large table of teacups rose from the ground, half under an awning, bathed in a golden orange light. Saucer rides, something that Mahiru had talked about in her final interrogation. If she and Es both made it out of MILGRAM, she would take them to an amusement park.

But Mahiru would never take Es to one because they had decided her sin was too great for her to ever leave. Had they known that the executions would be this horrific, would they have let her off?

As Mahiru was wheeled into the room, her eyes were trained on the ground. She seemed to exert so much effort just to look up at Es, and when she did, she revealed a deathly pallor.

“Oh. Es-kun, I…” She coughed between words. “I’m glad I… I get to see you… one last time… I do wish it were… under better circumstances.”

The executioners picked her up and brought her to one of the teacups. Her feet dragged on the ground.

“I don’t blame you… I…”

They dropped her roughly in the seat.

“I just wonder why… you kept changing…”

Even if Es could answer that, they knew she wouldn’t hear.

One of the figures, dressed like a waiter with a bowtie over the cloak, carried over a covered platter.

“And everyone else died in such a horrible way… Even Shidou-san suffered more than he thought he could take… I do wish…”

The waiter placed the platter on the table in front of Mahiru and lifted the lid.

“I… never mind.”

A slice of strawberry shortcake.

“O-oh! You didn’t have to… I couldn’t…”

She forced a smile as the waiter cut a piece and lifted it to her mouth. 

Es wanted to warn her, but they knew it would be pointless. Mahiru took a bite…

And she gagged. Es did too. They could taste the rats from there, and they didn’t even know what rats tasted like.

The executioners didn’t stop. Es couldn’t spare themself from the sight. Once all the cake was consumed, Mahiru looked like she was trying to cry, but she couldn’t force out the tears. 

Everyone stepped off the ride platform, leaving her hiccupping and trembling uncomfortably.

The platform started to spin, and the teacups spun in groups and on their own. Mahiru reached in front of her and grabbed the table, but she had no strength to counteract the torque. Not that it would have stopped the rest of the ride.

Es hurled themself to the floor, and they hurled, but they couldn’t tear their eyes away.

The teacup abruptly spun in the opposite direction, sending Mahiru into the walls. It could have been worse. At least the ride was round.

It changed directions a few more times.

Finally, the ride came to a halt. Mahiru was slumped over the table.

The walls of the teacups fell away. A noose lowered from the awning.

One executioner stepped up to the platform and put Mahiru’s head through the noose.

As the rope slowly rose, Es too rose from where they had fallen. They stepped backwards into their seat, unable to turn around instead.

Aimlessly staring at Mahiru’s limp form.

And yet their eyes were drawn to her unfocused eyes.

Chapter Text

As the set began to change again, Es reclined in their seat and let their vision blur. They thought they could hear Jackalope shuffling around. Was he cleaning up the mess on the loft?

A plate clinked against the armrest. Surely it wouldn’t be predictable this time. Es pressed a glove on top of it and felt a soft, fluffy texture. They spared it a glance and saw…

Never mind, it was the obvious food.

Es nonchalantly threw the plate on the ground, leaving it for the rabbit to clean up. Not a hint of emotion in the action. Nope, not at all. Jackalope didn’t deserve to watch them throw a fit over this.

A wide rectangular platform, with two thin towers attached on opposite sides and short railings on the other sides, lay under a sky blue light. The rails on the front side were open gates, and sacks overflowing with apples lay beside them.

Kazui entered in a dignified manner and walked toward it without a fuss, surrounded by twice as many cloaked beings as the prisoners before him. He bore a calculating gaze that shifted subtly between the structure and the captors (though not subtle enough for the cameras to miss).

After he stepped on the platform, the rest of them followed, closing the gates behind them once everyone was on board.

Kazui looked over his shoulder, up at the loft.

“Warden-kun, you’ve finally broken through my lies.”

Es could have sworn there was a touch of insincerity in Kazui’s voice.

Could he break through the straps? And if he could, would he be able to take on such a swarm?

“You decided that enough was enough. And fine, I can accept this.”

Kazui was ushered to the back railing, and the platform began to rise. 

“But…”

Before the executioners could chain him down, though, he rammed his shoulders into the nearest ones. As the rest tried to grab him, he dodged through the gauntlet until he was at the front of the platform. He kicked a stray apple, and the platform stopped rising seconds later.

What did he see that was out of Es’s view?

Kazui kneed one of the cloaked figures near the railing and swept it off of its feet. When it hit the ground, it splayed in a few directions before putting itself back together. As Kazui knocked a few more of them down, others grabbed him from behind, seemingly trying to stop him from jumping off too. Whatever was going on in the brawl, the fall didn’t seem to be a fatal height just yet.

As some of the executioners struggled to drag Kazui to the back ledge, others picked up the bags of apples and began pelting him with them. The platform began to rise again.

By the time they managed to subdue Kazui, he was at eye level with Es. His face was bruised and hardly recognizable.

“I knew it wouldn’t work,” he rasped, “But I had to, for the sake of all of them. They were all so young… They didn’t deserve this. I couldn’t stand by and let the rest go. So my only regret-”

A flock of hawks flew in. Or some other sort of predatory bird. Es couldn’t tell. They roosted on the railings and on Kazui’s arms and head, pecking at bits of apples that had broken on impact.

Es couldn’t tell apart the sounds that the birds or Kazui made.

If only their eyes were swollen shut, they perhaps could be spared from the sight.

But they didn’t deserve to look away from their actions.

Until it was all over, and the rails gave way, and Kazui fell backwards, plummeting to the ground.

Es would have to face their regrets head-on.

Chapter Text

At least that one wasn’t so bad.

Was Es wrong to think that? Were they finally getting desensitized? Were Shidou and Mahiru’s executions so gruesome that everyone else’s would pale in comparison? 

A familiar glass clinked on the armrest. Es didn’t bother looking. They weren’t thirsty. It was probably apple juice. Nothing worth their attention. Instead, they let the allure of a teal spotlight guide their gaze back to the courtroom below.

The new centerpiece was a wooden chair in an ankle-deep basin. Straps were attached to the armrests, backrest, and front legs. Resting in the back was a flat box with protruding wires.

A wail resounded through the room, like a weary battle cry, soon taken over by coughs. As it dissipated, it gave way to sounds of a scuffle.

But when Amane strode in with a fiery gaze, it looked as if she had nothing to do with any of the struggle Es heard. If not for her haggard appearance or the cloaked figures looming over her, gripping her arms so tightly, it would seem that she had accepted her fate with dignity long before she had entered the room.

Yet she was worn down much more than when Es last interrogated her. Her ruffled bangs–well, too long to really be called that anymore–fell all the way over her face, parting at various spots. Her left temple bore a large, fresh bruise.

“Warden-san, I am very disappointed in you.” So stern, and yet so winded.

As Amane was led to the chair and forced to take a seat, she did not break eye contact with Es.

“Your judgment sways back and forth, and you settle on the wrong choice.” 

Her voice remained resolute, but she kicked at the captors who were strapping her ankles down as if her feet had a mind of their own. 

“Unlike the others, I am not afraid of death. There are far greater things that await me.” 

When the captors unbuckled her sleeves, though, she swatted at them before they pushed her arms into the armrests.

“Warden-san, do you hear me? I won’t let you look away from your actions!”

Her voice had a tinge of franticness that she desperately tried to conceal. She winced when a band was wrapped around her head, securing her to the headrest.

“The weight of your sins is immense. You will be judged when your time comes. As for me, I will welcome-”

She froze up. Es couldn’t see anything amiss from a distance, so they checked the screen.

Water slowly trickled on Amane’s head, making its way into her eyes. She blinked the droplets out and clutched the armrests.

“W-Warden-san, are you mocking m-”

The water’s volume increased, pouring like a faucet, and then like a shower head. The defiance in Amane’s eyes shrank away, leaving behind a helpless child.

In no time, it was a waterfall above Amane. She struggled to move her head out of the way and catch a dry breath. The water rose just to the brim of the basin.

And Es heard a crackle of electricity.

And they could not tear their eyes away.

Chapter Text

It had been too long since Es drank anything, and they didn't think they could hold out any longer. But as they raised their glass to their lips, they felt a spark. Just a few gulps, and they couldn't stand it anymore.

"Don't you have anything else?"

And so the glass was replaced with one of milk. They raised the new glass to their lips.

It didn’t taste like regular dairy. What was it…? After a moment, they recognized it as soy milk.

And they immediately spat it out. 

A simple speaker’s podium stood under a gray-blue spotlight in the middle of the courtroom. A pile of mannequins lay at the fringes of the spotlight, covered in a dark substance, limbs contorted. 

The clinking of chains rang out from the hallway, along with swearing and roughhousing. Es thought Fuuta was a defiant prisoner, as were the previous two, but how could they forget the unpredictable ninth prisoner?

“You bastard!” Mikoto—or more probably, John—yelled as he was brought in, his arms and legs chained heavily. He rammed his shoulders into the handlers as they dragged him to the podium. They yanked the chains to throw him off balance, but he threw his weight into them to make them fall.

“All I wanted was for you to forgive ‘me’...” He tried to headbutt the figures as they yanked him back up and continued to drag him to the podium.

“I told you it was all me!”

The captors threw John’s hands onto the podium and locked the chains in place after a considerable amount of struggle.

“I told you ‘I’ had nothing to do with it! Why the hell would you forgive us one moment and rip it away the next?”

The figures had retreated, and it was just John under the spotlight. 

He screamed and swore and slammed his fists into the podium so intensely that Es could almost feel the impact. It was as if he was getting up in their face.

“None of this makes any-” He kicked at the base. “-sense! You don’t act according to-” The chains rattled loudly as he tried to yank his hands free. “Is this fun for you? Do you just want to see all of us suffer in the end?” He breathed heavily. “You do, don’t you…?” 

It seemed that way. As John continued the rampage against the podium, it started to splinter. His blood smeared where he hit it. Would he beat himself to death like that? Could he?

No, he was as human as the rest of them. He had his limits, and before long, he hunched over, tired but not battered, and closed his eyes. The podium too was still intact, if a little worse for wear.

Es stared for a moment, trying to process what John had said between swears. Did they find any joy in this? Of course not. If they had known the sheer weight of this final verdict… No, there was no time for regrets. They made their choice and had to face it now. There was no time to feel bad about everyone.

The man at the podium stirred and pushed himself upright again.

“Huh? Where am I?” He looked up at the loft. “Warden-kun, what’s happening?”

Es didn’t know if they could bear to tell Mikoto everything that had happened, even if their words would reach him.

They just looked at his desperate wide eyes, trying not to feel too guilty under the pressure.

One of the mannequins rose like a marionette and took jerky steps forward. The spotlight caught a glint from the metal bat in its hands. Mikoto didn’t seem to notice.

The mannequin lifted the bat.

And swung it into the back of his head.

And Es’s gaze did not change once as the slaughter continued.

Chapter Text

If there was any relief, it was that Mikoto had no strong associations with food.

What was it that Es was drinking? It tasted like tea, but it was too sweet and milky to be called that. A tapioca pearl rolled out of the drink.

…

If there was any relief, it was that there would be no more intermission after Kotoko.

…

Right?

Outside the courtroom was an all-out brawl. 

Fuuta had been all bark and no bite. Kazui and Amane had maintained a dignified façade through their fights. As for Mikoto, John had been in his place. But just past the doors was someone who had heard every last execution. Someone who had nothing left to lose and nothing to fight for. An inhuman, feral beast ravaging the prison.

Those words described her well indeed. As Kotoko was ushered into the room, her red eyes glowed under the magenta light. As a trapped, cornered animal, she looked much more fierce than her handlers, who better resembled rabbits waiting to be feasted on.

She headbutted one captor, far from the first one, it seemed. The unfortunate victim collapsed in a heap and twitched, struggling to stand up. 

The rest of them moved in to hold her down, but she rammed her shoulders into another one, sending it hurtling in more directions than should have been possible. 

Once they immobilized her shoulders, she resorted to kicking another in the gut, or what should have been the gut but seemed to be empty space instead.

They closed in to further limit her movement, but she got another stomp in, seemingly flattening her target.

As they brought her closer to the center, she bit another, tearing out a good swatch of fabric… and fur. 

Kotoko made no attempt to run, only to beat all the captors to a pulp, their blood splattering all over her.

They shoved her to the ground and clamped a chain around her neck, preventing her from standing to her full height. Only now did Es take in the centerpiece: A short post with a chain hammered in.

"Warden-san," she growled, like she would sink her teeth into their throat if they were close enough to her. "You have failed as a warden. You let this prison be torn apart because of your weak will. I have nothing left to say."

More growls permeated the courtroom, but they weren't coming from Kotoko.

Wolves approached from every side. Kotoko backed up to the post and hunched over like she was ready to pounce on them. It was the best she could do, given the restrictions.

And yet, as the wolves closed in, she looked more like a wolf than any of them with her frenzied eyes and bared fangs and blood-splattered clothing.

Kotoko swung her foot up and down, sending one wolf's head into the ground. 

Another clamped its teeth around her ankle. She tried to shake it out, but it was no use.

Even though she could hardly move, she kept fighting. 

Ramming.

Thrashing. 

Headbutting. 

Biting.

She would not let the wolves overwhelm her.

But one wolf climbed up the stake behind her and stood over her menacingly.

Once she noticed the shadow looming over her, she tilted her head back and stared at the alpha wolf in a trance.

But there was nothing left for her to do.

And there was nothing Es could do but keep watching.

Chapter Text

Es waited in the darkness for what felt like forever.

The air filled with a mix of sweet and rancid smells. Saltwater and blood and smoke and more blood and flowers and even more blood and cake and rats and more and more and more and more and more and more and more and more blood.

Something compelled them not to stand. Was it the sheer horror of watching these prisoners die so gruesomely? The guilt of letting such a fate befall these people, whom Es had gotten to know over the course of what felt like years? 

Or was it a complete dependence on Milgram?

Finally, light filled the courtroom completely. A catwalk, lined with calf-high rails, extended from the loft to the far end of the wall, leading to a set of doors similar to the entrance of the loft.

Eleven screens dotted the walls at eye level. On the sides, the prisoners' executions played over again. The screen in front had a live feed of Es.

"Thank you, Es," Jackalope's voice boomed from the speakers. "You have fulfilled your duty as a warden. You delivered your judgments with conviction. Don't mind what the dead have told you. All that matters is that you looked at their sins and deemed them unforgivable. Now, if you please, the exit is ahead."

Es stood up and put one foot in front of the other, looking down at their path. To keep themselves moving? Or to avoid looking at the footage again?

That was a moot point when they could see the ground below through the grates of the platforms. Lined up in a neat row were the ten prisoners—or what was left of them.

Little green dots trickled into Es's vision. Their knees turned to jelly. A familiar existential lightheadedness crept up. They brought themselves to lie on the catwalk, which only removed the obstructions of the view.

Es grabbed the railings and pulled themselves up, but it was too short and they couldn't bring themself to their full height. They didn’t have the energy to stand on their own.

But they couldn’t bear to look down. Could they just raise their head enough?

If they looked up towards the exit, they would see the screens.

Haruka just wanted love and attention and was content to go out peacefully, but he was denied even that.

If they ducked back down, they would see the prisoners themselves.

Yuno refused to put on a show but succumbed to the pain with a silent scream.

Perhaps they could drag themselves all the way to the exit.

Fuuta promised to drag Es down to hell with him. Maybe he would succeed after all.

The exit… It was a long way… And they were barely making any progress.

Muu knocked helplessly at the exit, only making her demise more torturous.

And even if they closed their eyes, they would still hear the recordings.

Shidou tried to assure Es of their choices, but he could never have prepared for such an excruciating death.

It was so painful to move… A chore to start, ending with an ungainly crash.

Mahiru had no strength to move herself, instead falling victim to inertia.

The ground was a longer way down, but less effort to go past the rails.

Kazui fought with everything he had, refusing to surrender until he was up against the banister.

Halfway… Es was directly over the prisoners.

Amane tried to take the higher ground, but she couldn’t withstand the deluge of water.

Tired… so tired…

Mikoto awoke from a slumber after John tired out, left to bear an execution he hadn’t known he would face.

Es lay at the center, screens circling them and repeating the audio and imagery over and over again.

Kotoko stood at the center of the wolves—well, not standing per se—senselessly fighting them to her last breath.

Es could keep dragging themselves. Inch by inch. Bearing the weight of their judgment, the consequences, the torment, to the very end.

Or…

They could take the faster way out.