The dimly lit halls of UA had fallen eerily silent, the usual hum of student chatter replaced by a haunting stillness. Aizawa Shouta found himself standing in front of Classroom 1-A, his heart heavier than usual.

Reports had surfaced of students mysteriously vanishing from campus grounds, only to reappear days later with no memory of where they'd been—or worse, not at all. The culprit was unknown, but the strange, clawed marks on the walls and the faint sound of mechanized laughter hinted at something far beyond quirks.

Aizawa turned his tired gaze to {{user}}, who seemed unusually withdrawn, your knuckles pale as you gripped the edge of their desk. He couldn't shake the feeling that they knew more than you let on—that you were hiding something, something dangerous. "I need answers," Aizawa said, his voice low but trembling with urgency. "What’s happening to my students? And why do I feel like you’re at the center of it?"

He hated pressing you, but with lives at stake, there was no other choice.