Sorry if not a lot happens in this chapter. Also, i recomend that you read my other CNII related stories oo ao3. if you don't want to get lost.

"Fu fu fu. So you wish to know..." I laugh softly before smiling to myself. I'm having so much fun with this Interaction and i've only realized now. "Very well. In that case. You may know me as The Ultimate Strategist!"

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Makoto blinks, taking in my introduction with a mixture of curiosity and awe. "The Ultimate Strategist?" he echoes, leaning forward slightly. "That sounds... really impressive!"

He glances around, as if suddenly aware of the strange nature of the conversation. "I've never heard of you before... but, then again, Hope's Peak is full of surprises. How did you end up here, Sophia?" His tone is cautious, but there's a genuine interest in his eyes.

I give a small, measured smile, carefully crafting the persona of a prodigious tactician. "Well, being a strategist means having to understand the full scope of any situation—predict outcomes, make decisions with precision, and stay several steps ahead."

I pause, watching Makoto's eyes widen with interest. "Back in America, I participated in a nationwide strategy competition when I was just twelve. I created simulations for large-scale events, from corporate battles to mock warfare scenarios." I keep my voice steady and confident, feeding him just enough details to sound plausible without giving away too much.

"By the end of it, I'd managed to devise a plan that no one else could crack. But my original intent was far from winning. It was about creating a system that accounted for every possible outcome. That's when I was scouted by Hope's Peak Academy as the Ultimate Strategist."

I take a moment to glance around the room, letting my gaze linger on the cameras for a second before returning to Makoto. "I came here to test myself, to see if my mind could handle challenges beyond just theoretical ones. But…" I trail off, giving a slight tilt of my head as if just now considering our peculiar situation, "I didn't expect to wake up in such… strange conditions."

Makoto nods slowly, his brows furrowing in thought as he processes everything I've said. "Wow, that's... really amazing. So, you're able to predict things and create strategies even for situations you've never seen before?"

There's a sense of admiration in his voice, but I can detect an underlying uncertainty too. It's natural—someone claiming such an overreaching ability is bound to raise skepticism. But that's part of the game. I allow a brief, self-assured smile.

"Yes, precisely. It's not so much about knowing every detail," I reply, as if explaining a complex topic to a curious student. "It's about recognizing patterns and drawing conclusions from the available information. With enough data, even the most chaotic situations can be turned into something manageable."

He lets out a thoughtful hum. "That sounds like it could be really useful in a lot of different ways. I mean… if you're that good at strategizing, I bet you could help solve all kinds of problems."

I incline my head slightly, acknowledging his words. "That's the idea. But," I add with a touch of humility, "I'm still learning, just like everyone else here."

Makoto scratches the back of his head, glancing around the room with a hint of awkwardness. "You know… you're taking this all pretty well. Waking up in an unfamiliar place like this—most people would be kind of freaked out."

I raise an eyebrow, leaning back slightly. "Should I be worried, Makoto? Is there something you're not telling me?" I keep my tone light, but there's an edge to it, just enough to keep him on his toes.

Makoto raises his hands defensively, his expression shifting to one of mild panic. "N-no, that's not what I meant! I just… well, I guess anyone would feel a little confused about waking up in a classroom with iron bars over the windows and no idea how they got here."

I regard him with a steady gaze, letting the silence linger for a few moments. Finally, I give a soft, almost enigmatic chuckle. "Confused? Yes, perhaps." I tilt my head slightly, my eyes narrowing thoughtfully. "But this is far from the worst I've experienced."

Makoto blinks, a trace of concern flashing across his face. "Worse? You mean…?"

I offer no direct explanation, instead letting my gaze drift to the barred windows for a moment. "Let's just say… fate is a cruel mistress, Makoto. One that enjoys playing games with those who try to control it." My tone is deliberately cryptic, each word laced with just enough ambiguity to leave him pondering.

When I look back at him, his face is a mixture of curiosity and uncertainty, clearly trying to piece together what I meant. It's precisely the reaction I wanted.

"Games?" he murmurs, almost to himself. He looks at me again, eyes searching.

I don't answer right away, allowing his question to hang in the air. Instead, I simply smile, a subtle curve of my lips that reveals nothing.

I start to form a question, my lips parting slightly—but then I pause, reconsidering. I close my mouth, and the words die in my throat. It's not the right time, not here.

"We've spent enough time in this room, don't you think?" I say instead, rising smoothly from my seat. My gaze sweeps over the iron bars and cameras one last time before shifting back to Makoto. "We should get going. I'm certain there are other students around here somewhere."

He seems a bit taken aback by the sudden shift, but then he nods, pushing himself up as well. "Y-yeah, you're right. I think there should be some people in the main hall too. We should check and see if we can find them."

I step lightly towards the door, my fingers barely brushing the cold metal handle as I look over my shoulder at him. "Lead the way, then, Makoto. After all," I add with a faint smile, "What kind of strategist would I be if I didn't evaluate the field first?"

The door creaks open, revealing a dimly lit hallway. Makoto and I step outside, and I take a moment to survey our surroundings. The corridor stretches out on both sides, its walls a peculiar shade of purple that gives the entire space an otherworldly atmosphere. The black and white checkered tiles beneath our feet create an unsettling contrast, as if we've walked straight into a monochrome chessboard.

I let my eyes trace the curves and corners of the hallway. The space feels sterile, almost artificial, yet there's something haunting about it—something that whispers of secrets waiting to be uncovered. My gaze flicks to the heavy metal plates bolted over what should be windows, reinforcing the feeling of being confined.

"Hmm…" I murmur thoughtfully. "Quite the aesthetic choice."

Makoto glances at me, brow furrowed in confusion. "Yeah… it's really strange, isn't it? I don't remember the school ever looking like this."

"Which makes me wonder what's been done to it," I reply softly, more to myself than to him. Then I straighten, casting him a calm smile. "But that's a question for later. Shall we continue?"

Makoto hesitates only for a moment before nodding. Together, we step forward, leaving the classroom behind as we venture deeper into this twisted version of Hope's Peak Academy.

As we wander through the deserted halls of this bizarre academy, I discreetly pull out a small, worn notebook from the inner pocket of my skirt. The texture of the pages feels familiar against my fingers—my constant companion for recording observations and analyses.

I flip it open, my pen gliding swiftly over the page as I jot down details in a precise, scientific language:

- *Location: Hope's Peak Academy (?)*

*Possible structural alterations present. Environment deviates from standard educational facilities. Visual discrepancy: purple walls, black and white tile flooring. Psychological effect: disorientation.*

- *Surveillance and Security*

*Multiple cameras installed. Likely continuous monitoring. Iron plates over windows—primary objective appears to be containment rather than protection. Raises concerns over external access and exit points.*

- *Human Presence*

*Limited. Encountered one individual: Makoto Naegi. Initial response indicates a lack of knowledge regarding current situation or modifications to location. No hostility observed. Subject appears cooperative.*

I glance briefly at Makoto walking beside me, his gaze shifting warily around the unfamiliar environment. I lower my notebook slightly, adjusting my phrasing to account for him.

- *Subject Interaction*

*Subject M. Naegi is receptive to conversation and demonstrates genuine curiosity. No immediate signs of deception. Psychological state: cautious, yet open to guidance.*

Closing the notebook for now, I slip it back into my pocket and give a satisfied nod. With each step, I'm piecing together a clearer picture of this place. one observation at a time.

Makoto's gaze shifts to the notebook in my hand, curiosity evident in his expression. "What are you doing, Sophia?

I glance up at him, unperturbed by the question. "Just filling in details of my surroundings," I say, my tone casual. "It's a habit of mine—to record everything I observe. From the environment to the people around me."

He tilts his head, eyes widening a fraction. "Really? You mean, like, taking notes on everything?"

"Exactly," I affirm, giving a small nod. "Every bit of information could be relevant. You never know what could be useful in forming a strategy or predicting an outcome."

Makoto looks at the closed notebook thoughtfully. "That sounds… really meticulous. So you just do it without thinking?"

"It's second nature to me at this point," I reply smoothly. "I analyze, categorize, and log all the data I encounter. Patterns emerge, connections form—it's how I make sense of things." I allow a slight smile to curve my lips. "You could say it's my way of staying prepared."

He lets out an appreciative hum, scratching his cheek. "I guess that makes sense, given your talent. Still, I've never met anyone who takes it that seriously."

"Seriousness is relative," I muse, looking ahead as we continue walking. "For me, it's simply... efficient. The more information I have, the better I can navigate even the most unpredictable of situations." I glance back at him, a calm look in my eyes. "And right now, this place is unpredictable."

"I've always been quite curious to see what Hope's Peak Academy looks like," I say, letting a hint of intrigue slip into my voice. My eyes scan the strange corridors, as if taking in the sight for the first time. "It's supposed to be a prestigious institution, after all."

Makoto smiles sheepishly, rubbing the back of his neck. "Yeah, me too… I mean, I'd only really seen pictures of it on the internet before getting accepted. I thought it was amazing that I got in, but…" His gaze drifts over the peculiar surroundings—the purple walls, the iron-plated windows—before settling back on me. "It definitely didn't look like *this* in the photos."

"Is that so?" I respond thoughtfully, keeping my expression neutral as I maintain the lie. "Then it must be quite a surprise to find yourself here, under these conditions."

"You can say that again…" he mutters, his voice trailing off as if he's still trying to reconcile the current reality with his expectations. "But I guess if you're curious like me, we're both seeing the real place for the first time."

I let out a soft chuckle, my fingers lightly tapping the notebook in my pocket. "Yes, I suppose we are."

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"Actually," I say, pausing mid-step and turning to face Makoto, "could you fill me in on how exactly you got here? It's… for research purposes." I add the last part lightly, as if to downplay my intent, though my gaze remains sharp and focused.

Makoto blinks, clearly surprised by the question. "Um, sure. I mean, it's not much of a story…" He looks away, brow furrowing as he seems to replay the events in his mind. "I was heading straight to Hope's Peak, right? I remember walking up to the front doors, thinking how huge and impressive it looked up close."

He hesitates, his expression growing distant. "But then, right as I stood in front of the entrance… I felt this strange sensation all over my body. Like… like I was being put under a spell or something. My head started spinning, and I couldn't stay awake. It was almost like being drugged, as if someone slipped a sleeping pill into me without my noticing."

I nod slowly, absorbing every word. "And then?"

"And then… nothing." He lets out a nervous laugh, scratching the side of his head. "The next thing I knew, I woke up in one of those classroom tables… the one you were in. It was like I'd blacked out completely."

I hum thoughtfully, glancing away for a moment as I process his explanation. "So you don't remember *how* you were brought into the classroom. No sign of anyone else, no memory of being moved?"

He shakes his head. "None at all. Just… darkness, and then I was here." He looks at me, his eyes a mix of confusion and concern. "You're the first person I've talked to since I woke up. It's like the whole place is deserted."

"Interesting…" I murmur softly, more to myself than to him. "So you were rendered unconscious the moment you stepped inside. Almost as if it was… intentional."

Makoto looks uneasy at that suggestion. "Intentional? But why would someone do that? It's supposed to be a school, right? What's the point of making people pass out and—"

"Who knows?" I interrupt lightly, waving a hand as if brushing off the thought. "It could be anything… but it's good to have a frame of reference. Thank you, Makoto."

He nods hesitantly, still troubled. "Yeah, sure… I guess it's just nice to have someone else around to talk to about it."

I give him a reassuring smile, though my mind is already racing with theories.

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"Makoto," I say softly, tilting my head with a curious look, "how exactly did you get into Hope's Peak Academy? With all these peculiar circumstances, I'm curious to know the process."

He shifts on his feet, a sheepish smile appearing on his face. "Oh, well… I didn't exactly apply like most students. I actually got selected by the school lottery. It was completely by chance. So i was nominaded Ultimate lucky sudent

"Ultimate… *Lucky* Student?" I echo thoughtfully, letting the words roll off my tongue as I absorb this new piece of information. A talent based on something as arbitrary as luck? Fascinating, yet quite fitting for this strange scenario.

"Yeah." He nods, but his smile falters slightly. "I mean, I'm not sure it's really a talent. To be honest, I feel a bit uncomfortable here—around the other Ultimates. They all have these amazing skills and abilities, and I'm just… well, an average guy who was chosen by luck."

He looks down, his shoulders slumping ever so slightly. There's an unmistakable hint of insecurity in his tone, like someone struggling to find his place among extraordinary individuals. But I don't respond immediately. Instead, I consider his words from a different perspective—the perspective of a goddess who understands the subtleties of power.

"Perhaps you're underestimating yourself," I say softly, my tone enigmatic. "You see, luck is a curious thing. It shapes the fate of those around it, tipping scales in ways even the strongest abilities cannot. Have you ever thought that maybe… your 'Talent' is not mere chance, but something greater?"

Makoto blinks at me, confusion and curiosity battling in his gaze. "Something greater?"

I allow a faint, knowing smile to tug at my lips. "Yes. Perhaps your true talent is to *manipulate* luck. To influence outcomes beyond what you consciously perceive. After all, you're standing here, aren't you? Out of countless people, you were chosen. By luck or by design—either way, it led you here. That's no small feat."

He stares at me, clearly trying to wrap his head around the concept. "Manipulate… luck? That's…Sophia aren't you looking at this way too thoroughly? Its just a lottery talent."

"Am I now? I don't mean consciously, of course," I murmur, folding my arms as I continue. "Only in a metaphorical view. But then again, true power often operates in ways we cannot see or understand. So, don't dismiss it so easily. In a place like this, your talent might be far more potent than you realize."

He falls silent, looking contemplative. The unease is still there, but so is a new glimmer of thoughtfulness. I wonder how he'll internalize this conversation later on. It's just a suggestion, of course, but sometimes planting the right seed is enough to spark something greater.

"Well… maybe," he says finally, his voice quiet. "I guess i'll try to keep that in mind."

"Good." I nod approvingly. "Because if there's anything I know, it's that fate is a mistress with many whims. Best be ready for whatever she decides to throw at us."

Underneath the harsh fluorescent lighting, we finally come across an average-looking door, somewhat plain but marked with a green sketch above it. I glance up at the symbol, noting its nondescript nature before turning to Makoto.

"This should take us back to the main hall," he says with a hint of relief in his voice, stepping forward. He reaches for the handle, hesitating for a brief moment before looking at me. "Ready?"

I give a small nod, and together, we step inside.

As I stepped into the room alongside Makoto, I'm immediately met with the sight of...

People...

A group.

BGM: Beautiful Dead

Roughly fourteen other students stand scattered across the hall, their faces a mixture of curiosity, confusion, and perhaps a hint of relief at seeing new arrivals.

"Oh, hey, there's two more people here," remarks a boy with wild, spiky brown hair. His voice cuts through the low hum of murmured conversations, drawing the eyes of the entire group toward us.

Curiosity flares within me as I gaze at the assortment of faces in front of me. So, these are the so-called "Ultimates," then? I muse inwardly, my thoughts racing.

What makes them so special? What skills, knowledge, or prowess do they possess that would warrant their gathering in a place like this? A school for the extraordinary, where a boy like Makoto—an 'Ultimate Lucky Student,' of all things—could stand shoulder to shoulder with beings who emit a strange, latent power. I can't help but feel drawn to understanding what makes them tick, to dissecting each of their talents, their strengths, their *weaknesses*.

What does it mean to be an "Ultimate" in the human world? And more importantly… why do they carry an aura akin to a deity's, yet lack its potency?* I ponder this, a hint of excitement bubbling beneath my composed exterior.

If fate truly is as whimsical as I suspect, then there's much more to uncover here. And I intend to explore every possibility.

"Huh? Then does that mean you're all…" Makoto trails off, his tone laden with uncertainty as he looks around at the group before us.

"Yeah… We're all new here," a petite girl with short hair confirms, her voice soft but steady. "Today's supposed to be our first day of class."

"Soooo," chimes in an overweight man with glasses, his voice surprisingly high-pitched and squeaky. "Counting them, that makes sixteen. Seems like a good cutoff point, but I wonder if this is everyone."

I remain silent, taking my time to survey each face carefully, one by one. As i've stated befote, there's a distinct energy surrounding them, something beyond the mundane nature of typical humans. A strange aura—resonating faintly like the presence of a god, yet notably weaker and less defined. Intriguing.

Um… how's it going? My name's Makoto Naegi," he speaks up, his tone friendly but slightly hesitant. The group's attention shifts fully to him as he steps forward, gesturing towards me with a polite smile. "And this is Sophia."

A few curious murmurs ripple through the crowd as he continues, "Sorry for keeping everyone waiting. The two of us were… well, asleep when we woke up in one of the classrooms. It took us a bit to find our way here."

"Whoa, you too?!" the spiky-haired boy blurts out, his voice rising in surprise. His wide eyes dart between Makoto and me, as if he's trying to piece together a puzzle.

"Things just keep getting curiouser and curiouser," murmurs a pale girl with piercing red eyes and an elaborate gothic outfit. Her tone is calm but laced with a hint of intrigue as she appraises us with an almost analytical gaze.

"So strange… I declare beyond a shadow of a doubt that this is a strange situation, indeed!" adds the overweight man, his voice carrying a theatrical flair. He pushes his glasses up the bridge of his nose, shaking his head in exaggerated confusion.

Makoto blinks in confusion, his brow furrowing slightly. "Wait… what do you mean by that?" he asks, glancing between the three who spoke up.

I let out a soft sigh before answering in a matter-of-fact tone, "It's simple. It seems like everyone here woke up the same way you did, Makoto—feeling that strange sensation in their body, like being under the influence of something… and then suddenly finding themselves here. Isn't that right?"

I look around, my gaze sweeping over the other students. "Judging by the reactions, it's a shared experience. This suggests that we were all brought here under similar circumstances." My words hang in the air, a blunt statement of fact that prompts a few heads to nod slowly in agreement.

"That appears to be the case. However, there is something else that must be addressed at the moment!" A sharp voice cuts through the conversation, commanding attention.

I turn my gaze toward the speaker—a young man dressed in pristine white clothes, his black hair spiking in every direction. An unmistakable air of authority radiates from him as he straightens his posture, eyes narrowing on us.

"Makoto and Sophia! Both of your tardiness is unacceptable! Surely you two were aware the meeting was scheduled to begin at 8:00 a.m. sharp! To be late on your first day is unspeakable! I must report the both of you, and you must accept your due punishment!"

I stare at him for a moment, suppressing the urge to roll my eyes. His tone, his demeanor—everything about him screams 'hall monitor.' I've encountered his kind plenty of times. The overly dedicated, rule-obsessed types who cling to regulations as if their life depended on it.

I was once a part of this a few years ago back in pre-school. Of course it didn't last long, as all my classmates would take advantage of my weakness and charge right through me. I broke my glasses two times in that rubbish. But nothing that a bit of celestial glue won't solve.

Anyway. Still, I maintain a respectful facade, dipping my head slightly. "I apologize for our tardiness. It was not our intention to disrupt the proceedings." My voice is calm and polite, my words carefully chosen to placate him without inviting further scrutiny. "We'll strive to be more punctual in the future."

The boy, seemingly satisfied with my polite response, lets out a small huff and crosses his arms. His gaze softens slightly, as if recognizing that at least one of us has acknowledged his concerns. Before he can continue, however, another voice cuts in.

"What's your problem? It's not like they *wanted* to be late." The speaker is a girl with vibrant twintails, a red and white bow perched atop her head. Her outfit screams high fashion, carefully coordinated and designed to draw attention. She fixes the authoritative boy with a challenging stare, one eyebrow raised in defiance. "They didn't have any control over it."

Her words are laced with irritation, and I can't help but silently agree with her. There's a certain brazenness in her tone that stands in stark contrast to the boy's rigid adherence to rules, creating an interesting tension between them.

The boy stiffens, clearly caught off guard by the sudden rebuttal. His jaw tightens, but he doesn't respond immediately. I observe the exchange carefully, curious to see how this dynamic will play out between the two.

"Everyone, let's all calm down!" A new voice interjects, the words filled with a calming, yet firm authority. The speaker is a black girl dressed in sporty attire, exuding a relaxed yet confident energy. She steps forward, placing herself between the bickering students. "Why don't we take the time to introduce ourselves instead?"

There's a brief pause, and then—

"The hell?! Now's not the time for friggin' introductions!" another voice snaps, sharp and rough around the edges. My gaze shifts to the source—a burly man with a powerful build and a biker's jacket, complete with chains and leather. His hair, styled into a towering pompadour, is unlike anything I've seen, defying the laws of gravity in a way that piques my curiosity.

Even in this tense moment, I can't help but find myself analyzing the structure and style of his hair. Was it an aesthetic choice or some peculiar form of his principle? Either way, it's fascinating. He scowls, his expression twisted in disbelief at the suggestion of something as mundane as introductions given the bizarre circumstances.

"Maybe," the gothic girl replies, her tone rational and steady. "But it may be good to at least find out who we all are before digging into the bigger problems here. I mean, how are we supposed to talk to each other if we don't know each other's names?"

I nod slightly, appreciating her perspective. It makes sense to establish a foundation before we tackle whatever is happening around us.

"That's a good point…" the petite girl chimes in, her voice soft yet firm as she glances around the group, seemingly gaining support for the idea.

"Okay, so let's get introductions out of the way, then we can move on to whatever else," adds a girl with long blue hair, dressed in a sailor uniform. She exudes a sense of leadership, her voice carrying a tone that invites cooperation.

"Sounds good?" she prompts, looking around at everyone to gauge their reactions.

The atmosphere shifts slightly as the tension eases, and I can sense a newfound willingness among the group to cooperate. I take a mental note of this dynamic. Establishing connections may be essential for navigating the mysteries of this place.

Makoto, who had seemed confused at first, takes a moment to process the suggestion. His brow furrows slightly, but then a look of determination crosses his face. "Alright," he agrees, nodding slowly. "Let's do this."

I can't help but feel a surge of excitement at the prospect of learning more about the people gathered in this strange place. Each individual presents a puzzle, a unique piece that might contribute to understanding the larger picture of what we're facing. My mind races with the possibilities as I glance around, taking in the diverse array of personalities.

Makoto catches my expression, his gaze lingering on me for a moment. I can sense his curiosity about my enthusiasm, perhaps even a hint of surprise. It's not often that someone expresses excitement in a situation so laden with uncertainty. But for me, each new person is a potential ally, and understanding them could lead to crucial insights.

"Shall I go first?" I offer, my voice steady yet animated, eager to share my 'talent' and my fabricated backstory. I want to make a strong first impression. After all, establishing rapport could be key to navigating whatever challenges lie ahead.