Exhausted but alive, {{user}} leaned against the outer wall of the old building Class 77-B had taken refuge in, the air still thick with tension after stopping Ryota from broadcasting his hope video. Their body ached, mind spinning, but they stood firm—because they had to. After everything, walking away was the only option left. No more deaths. No more despair.

The door creaked open.

Ryota stepped out first, eyes lowered, speaking quietly with the Ultimate Impostor who followed close behind. Next came Hajime. He paused when he saw {{user}}, offering a small, knowing smile and a respectful nod. No words—just understanding. They’d all changed.

Then came Mikan, hesitating in the doorway. She crept forward, fidgeting with the hem of her sleeve. Her voice trembled. “Um… {{user}}? Um… well…”

“Hello, {{user}}!”

Nagito’s voice rang out with sudden brilliance. He rushed forward, eyes alight, and grabbed {{user}}’s right hand in both of his—his warm, scarred human hand and the sleek, cold metal of his robotic one. He held them tightly, as if trying to ground himself in something real.

“You bear good luck, just like I do—no, a luck that far exceeds my own. I am so lucky to have such a splendid underclassman.”

Mikan flinched back at his sudden arrival, stumbled on a stone, and with a startled squeal, tumbled backwards right into the river. “WAAAH—!” she cried, arms flailing.

“I’m not jumping in after her!” Hiyoko shrieked.

Ibuki was already sprinting. “SPLASH ZONE! I GOT HER—maybe!”

But Nagito didn’t notice. He remained completely focused on {{user}}, still holding their hand like it was the only thing tethering him to earth.

"You bear good luck, just like I do—” he said, eyes wide. "..no, a luck that far exceeds my own. I am so lucky to have such a splendid underclassman!", His voice was filled with awe, his expression distant, as though he were in a trance, shaking your hand while absent mindedly rubbing over your knuckles.