[A/N] Okay guys, so I had an idea... instead of everyone just meeting like they normally do... I figured they could be segmented off and have to do a challenge before they even all meet in order to establish everyone's characters early. I like this idea. But it'll make for a slightly slow-paced prologue. I'm sorry. I hope you enjoy despite that! I promise that the killing-game goodness will arrive shortly!

Edited as of 12/2/22

Azumi

I have never been to camp before. I suppose camp is not quite the word I'm looking for. It is a month-long "enrichment program" designed to assist students with extraordinary talents further develop their skills and meet people who they may want to collaborate with! Supposedly, there will be well-known mentors from all of our fields, innovative workshops, and state-of-the-art equipment. It frankly astonishes me that I attracted enough attention to be granted this privilege. Surely, there are other people my age more worthy of my title. But my ringleader said that I absolutely earned it, and that attending would build my confidence. So here I am, outside the immaculate building. Some of my family members are going to move my stuff inside for me so that I can explore at my leisure. But I can feel a tingling in my toes and a hint of lightheadedness.

Come, Azumi. Center yourself. All will be well. I take a deep breath as I repeat the mantra in my head. I arc my shoulders back a bit and then run inside, gently hitting my feet against the warm stone until suddenly it becomes cold tile, and the sun is replaced by a high roof so expansive and dome-like that it feels like it could be a planetarium. My breathing starts to shudder in awe. It's all so gorgeous. Majestic, even. I try to soak it all in until my vision starts to fill with black dots and my head starts to pound. You must lie down. You're about to pass out again.

But before I can act on that thought, I wake up somewhere else. A frigid, dark warehouse. I am surrounded by my luggage. Or at least, I think that's my luggage. I cannot see very well. I stir a bit, feeling a smidge fatigued. "Ah! You're awake! Are you okay?" a soft voice calls out to me. His silhouette is vaguely blurry.

"I'll be alright. This has happened before. But could you tell me where we are?"

"Unfortunately, I don't know. I was unconscious up until a few minutes ago. You seem remarkably unconcerned!" he comments.

"You fainted, too? Then perhaps this is not so normal. Do you often faint?"

"This would be my first time. We should eat a little. Regain our strength. I have a bag of snacks right here. We can split a banana and some pistachios. And you need water, of course," he offers, pulling food out of a brown paper bag. "I'm Tozen, by the way. Tozen Chiba. Ultimate Nutritionist, at your service."

"Oh, thank goodness, you ARE here for the enrichment program. I am Azumi Hirabayashi, the Ultimate Acrobat. It is a pleasure to make your acquaintance!" We eat a little and wait for our bodies to adjust. Then, strengthened a bit, we stand up and look for the light switch. He finds it after a while of groping at the wall. I blink frantically, adjusting to the fluorescent lighting.

There is a metal door. I run over to try and open it, but I realize that there is no doorknob, and it is significantly heavier than I expected. "Might I have your assistance?"

He comes over and pushes up against it as well. We both push with our full strength, and it does not budge. "It probably opens from the other side. There must be another way out," he decides, looking around.

The warehouse has high wooden rafters, and at the very top on the ceiling, I can make out a trapdoor. There is a rope ladder attached to it, but it is snagged on something. "Up there! The scaffolding!"

"How are we possibly gonna get there?"

"Leave that to me," I bow, trying to reassure myself just as much as him. "But... err. If you'd be so kind, be prepared to catch me, please!"

I run and bound against the wall, grabbing one of the thicker wooden beams and hoisting myself up. Alright... Alright! You can do this. It does not matter that there's no net. This is child's play. Balance is what you are all about! The pit of my stomach objects, but at least I am not shaking. Shaking would be terrifying right now. I run across the beam. This one does not faint me in the slightest; it is wider than my feet. I climb onto a different one, a bit thinner, and test the strength. Stable. The next one is even thinner, and on a bit of an incline, which is less than ideal. But crawling on it may make me fall, so I continue to walk. It creaks uncertainly, drowning out my ever-quickening breaths. The last beam is perhaps a half-inch wide, rickety, almost flexible, and on a sharp incline. It is also a few feet lower than the trapdoor, with a significant gap between them, as well. All will be well, all will be well, all will be well. I sprint up it, as light on my feet as humanly possible, and then leap with all of my strength. As I'm soaring through the air, I beg that I've got enough height and distance to make it. I extend my hands as far as I can, bending my legs fully backwards so I have a better chance; it'd be easier to catch a rope ladder with four limbs available than two. And it turns out to be a wise choice, as my hands miss but my right foot hooks around it. "M-My! That was a bit close for comfort!" I call out, dangling upside down. I'm glad I did not look down earlier; this is disquieting, to say the least. And I realize that the beam I just leapt off fell from its position.

"Oh my God! That almost hit me straight in the head! Are you going to be okay?!" he yells from down below.

"I'm fine! A bit shaken, to be sure, but I am in a perfect position now!"

"I-I wouldn't call that perfect."

"Behold! The skill of the Ultimate Acrobat!" I contort myself yet again and bend up to grab with my hands. And I pull at the clip that's keeping the rope ladder bound. It unravels all the way down to the ground.

"Incredible. That's incredible!" he gasps, beaming as he commences his ascent. It's a nice smile, framed by some peach fuzz.

I giggle bashfully. "I could not have achieved it without your handy snack bag. You knew the exact ticket!"

"Aww, thank you! That is my job, after all. I'm glad I could be useful in this situation." His golden eyes sparkle from even the slightest hint of praise.

"We make a good team, Tozen! Now, let us start solving the mysteries that lay at our fingertips." I pull open the hatch.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Kana

"Nice to meet you, Kana Omori. I'm glad the lights are on. Now I can get a good look at your pretty face," the unfamiliar boy jokes. Or at least I hope he's joking.

"Easy there, tiger. I'm not exactly—" I cut myself off. I'm NOT exactly single, but I'm also not technically taken either? So I don't know how to end that sentence. "I'm kind of..."

"You're off the market?" he fills it in, backing up just a little. He has an obvious emo aesthetic going on— unnaturally pale skin, dark hair and clothes— but that's not at all the personality he's showing. It's definitely more than a little weird.

I can only shrug in response. "Sorry, Ren. Speaking of that... I wonder where he IS. He should be here, too, since we share the title of Ultimate Ballroom Dancer. And I'm not gonna lie, I'm getting a bit antsy."

"Well then, let's get out of here. Don't you worry. I'll get you safely back to him."

I don't know whether I'm creeped out or flattered at his chivalry. We're smack-dab in the middle of a fancy music parlor, definitely the kind of place Monterio and I love. Homey, but spacious enough to move about in freely. We make our way to the door. There's a strange keypad. It looks like it can pick up soundwaves, based on the way it's reacting to us. Ren starts hitting random buttons.

"What are you doing, dipshit?! That could be super fucking dangerous!" I scold, grabbing his hand.

"Just wait! I don't think it expects us to enter any code before we hit the start button. And each number is making a different note. Listen." Hesitantly, I release his hand and obey. He's right. The buttons are emitting notes. There are very subtle differences between them, but they're distinct enough that we can tell. He is a guitarist, after all. After listening deeply to them all, he hits the start button. A series of notes rings out. Between the two of us, we're able to get the right combo. One of three red lights turns green.

"Well, that's a start. Wonder what they want us to do for the other two," he murmurs.

"Maybe play it? Or sing it or something? That could be what the sound recognition is for," I suggest.

He snaps. "Good thinking. Lemme just grab my guitar. My singing isn't bad, but it's the strumming that makes the ladies and gents swoon."

"Not just the ladies?" I give him a wry smirk, amused.

"Why would I limit my options like that?" he teases back, finding his guitar case among our stuff. I hit start, and it plays out the melody again. He shuts one eye, as though he's thinking. And then he slowly starts plucking out the notes, one by one, taking time to make sure he's right about each note. At the end, a second light turns green, and we hear a clicking sound. It's not the door.

"It came from over here. But it's muffled," he comments.

I pull the carpet away, revealing a group of pressure plates. "Ah, this makes sense. I know exactly what this wants. Could you hit start again?" He obeys, and it spits out a different song. "Damn. Okay, let me think. That first note was... eight. Then five, two, two again, four, nine. Ah, that's a bit of a jump." I make a leap from pressure plate four to nine, worried that I might fuck up because of my heels. But fortunately, I make it. "Shit, what was the last note?"

His eyes widen. Shit, fuck, I messed it up. We wrack our brains, and I refuse to budge an inch. "Seven. It's gotta be seven," he declares after a minute.

"Are you really that confident, or are you faking it?"

"Does it matter? The longer we wait, the less likely we are to remember. And the more likely this thing will give us a penalty."

"Fine." I stretch and twirl to plate seven, and an angry blare comes from the machine. Suddenly, panels in the walls open.

"Duck!" he screams, knocking into me and pushing me to the ground as spikes erupt from the walls.

"Holy shit! What the fuck kind of enrichment program is this?!" I yell.

"Apparently a dangerous one! C'mon, we've gotta try again. We'll never get out of here otherwise!"

This time, we listen to all of the notes again several times. Now that we know what kind of crap lies in store if we fail, we're mega motivated to not fail. By the time we hit start, I don't think I could ever dissociate the numbers from the notes. I relax my body, trying not to tense up too much. I glide my way across the plates, significantly more confident this time. A triumphant little tune plays as the last light turns and the door clicks. He swings it open.

"Brilliant! Thank God that's over with. After you, milady." I make my way over to the door. "And, um... I'm sorry for guessing wrong."

"You could've gotten skewered protecting me. I'm not petty enough to hold a grudge after that. I'm still kinda-maybe-taken though, so don't try anything!"

"I'm offended," he comments. He says it with a joking smile but his tone is serious. Noted. Ren Enomoto is a flirt, not a fuckboy.

We start walking as I stew over the situation.

"I didn't mean anything by it. I'll be sure to tell him you're a good guy. You'll probably like him more than me, actually."

"Well thanks. It'll be nice to know I didn't make an enemy of a man I haven't even met yet."

I laugh a bit. The rest of the walk is shared in silence.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Chimon

"Woah! Bisque, look! A real-life magical girl!" I point to the other side of the craft room we inhabit. Y'know, play up the childhood innocence card. It's important to establish yourself as trustworthy, and what better way to suggest benevolence than with naivety?

"Wait, really?! Amazing!!" he whispers, eyes lighting up in wonder. I cannot BELIEVE he even for a second buys that that woman might actually be a magical girl. Either he's freaking hysterical, willing to play along with me, or he's a total idiot. Both options are helpful in their own way, so I guess I'll try to keep him close. "Let's go meet her, Chimon!" He stands up frantically and pulls me along.

"Hi! Hello there! I'm Haruto Gima, Ultimate Potter! You can call me Bisque, if you want! And this is Chimon Ueda, Ultimate Hypnotist!" he introduces jovially.

"You must be the Ultimate Magical Girl! Wow!! What's your name?!" I play along with the joke.

"Wait, what? How old are you guys?" she asks, blinking in astonishment. Her voice is slightly raspy.

"Fif— Wait, I'm sixteen now! My birthday was recent, so I forgot!" Haruto announces.

"I'm fourteen!"

"First of all, you look like... nine, Chimon. Second, you boys are way too old to believe in magic. Sorry to burst your bubble," she informs us, raising an eyebrow. "Look, see?" She takes off her super curly wig to show us. She's bald. Not exactly what I was expecting, but it's no skin off my nose.

"Oh. Um, no, I don't still believe in magic... sadly." For the first time since I've met him, Haruto seems a bit glum. But then he smiles again, sheepishly. "I thought maybe you were like one of those people in amusement parks or for birthday parties!!! We got ahead of ourselves. I'm sorry. What's your ACTUAL talent?" he asks, giggling.

"Joanie Moore. Ultimate Director. The magical girl schtick started as promotion for a movie, but then nobody would ever let me stop. One good thing about fainting and being moved to an unknown location with strangers is that there's no paparazzi," she expresses, rolling her eyes.

"Great optimism," I praise. "Let's get out of here." Joanie, taller and a little buffer than Haruto and me, naturally falls into place front and center, as though to protect us. At the door, we find a plush dog somehow pacing in front of the door. It's split down the middle. The right half is white and the left is red, with a black, jack-o-lantern-esque eye. What IS this thing?

"Halt! I was given the orders not to let anyone out of or into this room!" he holds up a paw.

"Hiya! You look like a good puppy. What are you exactly?"

"I AM a good puppy. But I'm also a bot and loyal guard dog! Monoinu, at your service!" What the actual fuck is happening?!

"I can handle this," Joanie declares, holding up this prop staff. I'm left wondering if it could actually do any damage. But before I can ponder it for too long, the dog whips out tons of weaponry from out of nowhere. Like a chainsaw, rifle, even freaking throwing stars! We all back far away.

"Guys... if force won't work, diplomacy might! Particularly... bribery?" I suggest in a whisper.

"Got it. Damn, this is getting stranger by the minute," she mutters, "I need a smoke." But then she puts on an smile so animated that I instantly understand why people force her to do this 24/7. Haruto also wears one, but aside from a brief spurt of worry, his is filled with nothing but earnestness.

"Hi! Sorry about that! We had a bit of a misunderstanding. We really need to get out of here. Do you think you could help us?" Haruto asks, nudging his glasses a little. They're haphazardly mended with tape.

"Sorry, no can do, kiddo! I have a job to do."

"What's the job?"

"Keep you here."

"Why?" I ask. He stays silent. Dang... that's annoying.

"Hey, do you know us?" Joanie asks. Monoinu hesitantly nods. She and Haruto book it to get their stuff.

"I've got a bunch of ceramic jewelry! Aren't the colors pretty? I was planning to sell them, but I could let you have these!" Haruto smiles. His works are actually really freaking nice. Shouldn't have underestimated the Ultimate Potter, even if he's a big-hearted little idiot.

"And I've got something very special to me," Joanie says.

"Oh?" Monoinu quirks up a non-existent eyebrow.

"A copy of a script for a new, unreleased movie of mine. It'll probably be worth mad cash, too. I can autograph it, if you'd like!" she declares, holding a thick stack of papers held together with a key ring. Damn, that girl can write. Even if she has the face of a burnout.

"Ohhhh... that's tempting, but I don't really need money... I've been told that materialism is a force of evil."

"Not necessarily! You could use it for your favorite charities, or to buy gifts for all your friends and family!"

"Friends? Hmm... I don't really have any of those."

"Wait, really?! Aww! We can be your friends!" Haruto offers, daring to step a little closer. Monoinu quivers a bit and raises his weapons ever so slightly before retracting them.

"Wait, but that would mean giving you guys gifts with money you gave me... This is all so confusing!" You're telling me, weird robotic mutt.

"Don't worry. The friendship is free. You don't have to give us gifts. Friendship doesn't come with strings. Do you have any family?" Joanie inquires.

He stays quiet for a little bit. So I pipe in. "You don't have to tell us anything you don't feel comfortable with. We can just strike a deal. We'll give you the goodies and become your friends! And as our friend, you'll let us out!"

"Oh, I dunno!" he shuffles nervously. "If I don't keep you here... something might happen!"

"C'mon. We'll do whatever we can to keep you safe. I'll shake on it," I goad. Hopefully, this guy proves useful. Because I'm putting a lot of eggs in this basket considering I really don't give a shit. I extend my hand. He reaches out his, and then I grab his wrist and pull a little. He gasps, surprised. "Oh, sorry! I forgot. My family does handshakes a little weird. Now, do you think you could let us out please?"

"Y'know what? Yeah. Yeah! Wow! I made friends!" Haruto and Joanie fork over the goods. "I'll bury this somewhere soon. Now lemme just unlock the door!" One sharp claw comes out of his paw and he fiddles with the lock, sticking his tongue out in concentration. We walk out, intending to come back for our stuff later.

After we've gone a few steps, Joanie gruffly asks, "Special handshake?"

"Yeah! It runs in the family!" Trade secret.

"Neat!"

"Thanks, Bisque. You did good."