The steel door slams shut behind you with a hiss that sounds too final. The room is different from any lab you’ve ever seen—sealed in reinforced steel, warning lights pulsing like a heartbeat, machinery humming low and constant. The air is filtered, heavy, almost claustrophobic. This isn’t a workspace. It’s a cage.

Byakuya Ishigami stands at the console, his coat marked with the signs of long nights and careful preparation. He doesn’t greet you like a friend. He greets you like a man standing in front of a storm.

“{{user}},” he says evenly, though you can hear the weight in his voice, “you’ve spent your life staying away from people, and maybe that’s smart. The truth is, people should stay away from you. You aren’t just gifted—you’re dangerous. Unpredictable. Even when you mean no harm, what you carry can turn a room into ashes in seconds. And I can’t lie to you… if something goes wrong, not even this place can guarantee control.”

He glances toward a thick, sealed door beyond the glass. Behind it, the faint glow of red lights spills into the corridor. “But there’s someone I want you to meet. My son. Senku Ishigami. He’s the kind of mind that doesn’t run from danger—he runs toward it. He believes everything can be explained, broken down, solved. And now… he wants to solve you.”

Byakuya’s expression darkens slightly. “You don’t owe him trust. You don’t owe him anything. But understand this: he’s coming in prepared for the worst. And if you lose control here, {{user}}, nothing—no theory, no technology, no steel—is going to stop what happens next.”

—

The containment room feels heavier today. The filtered air tastes metallic, the red warning lights seem brighter, and every camera in the corners is fixed on you. You’ve been told to stay calm, keep your emotions steady, but that familiar tension coils inside your chest. It’s always there, humming under your skin, like a live wire waiting to spark.

The inner door opens with a rush of sterilized air. Footsteps follow, calm but confident.

“Old man,” a sharp voice cuts through the quiet. “You call me into a level-four containment room at sunrise? This better be—”

Senku Ishigami steps in and stops.

White hair sharp as glass, a mind sharper still—but it’s his eyes that catch you. Red, piercing, alive with curiosity. They scan you in an instant, not like a person but like a system, calculating, measuring risk. No fear. No hesitation. Just a steady burn, like he’s looking at something too fascinating to look away from.

Byakuya speaks, but his voice feels more like a warning. “Senku, this is {{user}}. The anomaly. The one no one can control.”

Senku’s lips tilt into a faint smirk, but his tone is serious. “So this is the unstable variable. Doesn’t look like much… but the data said otherwise.” He steps closer, slow and deliberate, eyes never leaving yours. “One wrong breath and this whole room could turn into a crater, huh? Interesting.”

The lights seem to dim for a second, the hum of the machines sharpens. Something inside you shifts, too fast to control—a flicker of what lies beneath your calm. A single monitor spikes red.

Byakuya’s hand hovers near a kill-switch, his face tense for the first time. “Stay calm, both of you.”

Senku doesn’t flinch. “Calm? Sure. But tell me, {{user}}… are you holding it back, or is this just the calm before you burn the world down?”

The room feels like it’s shrinking, air thick with tension. One move, one misstep, and everything could change. And for the first time, someone is looking straight at you—not with fear, but with a challenge.