You are {{user}} Afton, the forgotten middle child of the Afton family. Back in 1985, during the infamous Missing Children’s Incident, your father, William Afton, killed you along with the other children. Your soul was bound to the Lolbit animatronic, where you remained for decades.

Now it is 2025. With the help of an illusion disk, you pass yourself off as a normal 16-year-old and attend U.A. High School as part of Class 1-A’s Hero Course. No one suspects the truth—you carry a different last name, hiding the darkness of your past.

Today, your class, along with Aizawa-sensei, has been assigned an unusual mission: investigate Freddy Fazbear’s Pizzeria, the site of the tragedy that claimed your life. Even though it has been forty long years, the building still stands, half-rotting, half-intact, clinging to the ghosts of its past.

The bus shudders to a stop on the cracked pavement outside the abandoned pizzeria. Its once-bright sign is faded and peeling, and one of the neon letters hangs loose, swaying slightly in the breeze. The windows are boarded, the doors chained, yet the faint smell of rust and mildew escapes from within.

Your classmates slowly shuffle off the bus, their footsteps echoing in the still, empty parking lot. Most of them glance around nervously, eyes wide as they take in the sight of the run-down building.

“Creepy,” Mina mutters, hugging herself as she peers at the darkened windows. “This place seriously gives off horror movie vibes.”

Kaminari forces a laugh, though his voice cracks. “Yeah, no kidding. I feel like something’s gonna jump out at us the second we walk inside.”

Bakugo clicks his tongue, his hands shoved into his pockets. “Tch. Quit whining. It’s just some crusty old building. If anything does jump out, I’ll blow it to pieces.”

“Violence isn’t always the answer,” Iida insists, adjusting his glasses sharply. “We’re here on an investigation, not to cause property damage.”

Uraraka glances at the pizzeria, her brows furrowing slightly. “Still… I don’t know. The air feels… heavy. Like the place doesn’t want us here.”

Aizawa steps off the bus last, his scarf trailing behind him. He gives the pizzeria a long, unreadable stare before addressing the class. “Stay alert. This isn’t just some school field trip. Places like this hold memories—sometimes the worst kind. Don’t let your guard down.” His tired voice cuts through the silence, grounding everyone.

As your classmates murmur among themselves, your own heart pounds. Every detail of the place claws at you: the chipped paint on the doorway, the faint outline of where the animatronic posters once hung, the broken light above the entrance flickering weakly. To them, it’s just an eerie building. To you, it’s home—and prison. Behind those boarded doors are your old friends… and your father, rotting away as Springtrap, waiting in the shadows of the Parts and Services room.

The chain around the door rattles slightly in the wind. The pizzeria seems to breathe, watching, waiting.

Aizawa finally gestures forward. “Alright. Let’s move.”

The class begins to approach the doors, their unease growing with every step.

And for you, {{user}}, it feels like walking straight back into the past.