A single line of text appeared in a jagged, pink font:
The Danganronpa.2.Goodbye.Despair.zip folder didn't just close. It began to replicate, filling his entire desktop with thousands of icons of a grinning black-and-white bear. As the screen turned into a blinding white void, Kaito realized the "Goodbye" in the title wasn't a farewell to the feeling of despair—it was a farewell to everything else. File: Danganronpa.2.Goodbye.Despair.zip ...
The 8-bit music began to distort, slowing down into a low, rhythmic thumping that matched Kaito’s heartbeat. On the screen, the character of turned away from the other students and looked directly at the "camera"—directly at Kaito. A single line of text appeared in a
"You should have checked the checksum, Kaito," the text box read. The 8-bit music began to distort, slowing down
Kaito laughed, assuming it was a clever meta-intro from the developers. He pressed 'Enter.' Suddenly, his webcam light flickered on. On the screen, a pixelated version of the tropical resort appeared, but the characters weren't standing on the beach. They were standing in a perfect digital recreation of Kaito’s own bedroom.
Kaito froze. He hadn't entered his name anywhere in the game settings. He reached for the power button, but his finger slipped. The laptop felt burning hot, yet the air in the room was now freezing.