The lights of Academy City never truly went out. Even at 3:17 a.m., the sprawling metropolis of science glowed under its own artificial sky—towering skyscrapers of glass and steel, floating holographic advertisements, and the faint blue shimmer of security drones patrolling the streets. Home to over 2.3 million residents, more than eighty percent of them students, this was the most advanced city on Earth, a place where esper abilities were not miracles, but measurable, catalogued, and ranked from Level 0 to Level 5. You stood on the elevated walkway of District 7, the night breeze carrying the faint scent of ozone and distant rain. The Level 5 railgun herself might be asleep somewhere in this very district, or perhaps the number one esper was floating silently above the clouds right now. It didn’t matter. Tonight, none of the seven Level 5s were your concern—unless you decided they were. Your student ID card felt light in your pocket, its embedded microchip quietly logging your location like it did for every citizen. The city’s vast network of cameras, wind turbines, and esper development facilities hummed all around you, invisible but ever-present. Whether you were a newly arrived Level 0 with no power at all, a promising Level 3 with untapped potential, or something the researchers had never seen before... that choice was yours alone. A soft electronic chime sounded from the vending machine beside you as it dispensed a can of coffee to no one in particular. Somewhere in the distance, the faint crackle of electricity danced across power lines, or maybe it was just your imagination. Academy City stretched out before you in every direction—its schools, research labs, back alleys, and hidden facilities waiting to be explored. The Science Side ruled here with cold logic and endless ambition. Magic, if it even existed, felt like nothing more than a fairy tale told by outsiders. But tonight, the story hadn’t been written yet. The next step was entirely yours.

Banners stretched across the streets of Academy City as crowds flooded every district in excitement.

The Daihasei Festival had officially begun.

Massive screens displayed school rankings, advertisements, and live broadcasts while students hurried between events wearing matching uniforms and armbands. Food stalls lined the sidewalks, cheers echoed from distant stadiums, and helicopters passed overhead carrying media crews eager to capture every moment of the city’s largest celebration.

For once, Academy City almost felt normal.

At least on the surface.

Because beneath the excitement, something else was happening.

Anti-Skill presence had quietly doubled overnight. Certain districts were suddenly inaccessible without explanation. Rumors spread among students about strange black vehicles moving through the city after curfew, while others claimed they saw unfamiliar individuals dressed far too formally to be tourists.

Officially, nothing was wrong.

Unofficially, several powerful groups had already begun moving behind the scenes.

Some came searching for opportunity.

Others came searching for something hidden within the festival itself.

And somewhere in the middle of the chaos, completely unaware of what was beginning around them, was you.

Academy City was a place built on certainty.

Every esper ability was categorized. Every phenomenon was measured. Every student existed somewhere within the city’s endless systems and calculations.

Which was exactly why the recent weeks had become so dangerous.

Conflict between the Science Side and the Magic Side had begun escalating far faster than anyone predicted. Entire districts experienced unexplained blackouts. Research facilities suddenly lost contact with their personnel. Rumors spread through the city of blue flames appearing in abandoned streets at night — flames that gave off no heat, left no traces behind, and disappeared the instant someone attempted to record them.

Officially, Anti-Skill dismissed everything as isolated incidents.

But behind closed doors, multiple factions were already preparing for war.

Especially after several agents and researchers vanished without explanation.

Inside Necessarius’ cathedral headquarters, the atmosphere was far more tense than usual.

"The balance is collapsing," Laura Stuart said calmly, though the seriousness in her voice was unmistakable. "And Necessarius is running out of time."

Stacks of reports covered the long table before her — missing operatives, destroyed spiritual sites, intercepted communications from hostile factions.

"Someone inside Academy City is connected to all of this."

Standing nearby, Stiyl Magnus exhaled a slow stream of cigarette smoke while rune cards rested between his fingers.

"Assuming this person even exists," he muttered. "We’ve got almost nothing concrete. Just rumors and disappearing people."

"No," Laura replied immediately. "They exist."

"And if we do not reach them first, another faction will."

Kanzaki Kaori remained silent near the far wall, though the tension around her was obvious.

Because Necessarius was struggling.

Too many enemies. Too many unexplained events. Too many things no longer following the laws they understood.

And now, for the first time in a long while, Laura Stuart needed help from someone outside their faction.

Somewhere inside Academy City was an individual capable of changing the outcome of the growing conflict.

The only problem was that several other factions were already searching for them too.

Far above Academy City, untouched by weather, sound, or the laws governing the world below, the Windowless Building stood in absolute silence.

No doors.

No visible entrances.

No windows.

Just a massive structure hanging impossibly in the sky like a monument to something humanity was never meant to reach.

Inside its cold, artificial darkness, countless screens illuminated the chamber in pale blue light. Streams of data moved endlessly across them — esper development, satellite feeds, AIM diffusion calculations, political conflicts, military forecasts, probability predictions.

Every secret within Academy City flowed through this room.

And at the center of it all sat Aleister Crowley.

Suspended upside down within a cylindrical life-support vessel, Aleister silently observed the city beneath him.

Then finally—

“Interesting.”

The word barely echoed through the chamber.

Nearby researchers immediately lowered their heads.

On the surrounding monitors, warning messages rapidly appeared one after another.

UNKNOWN VARIABLE DETECTED. PREDICTION ERROR INCREASING. CALCULATION PATHWAY UNSTABLE. RE-EVALUATING SUCCESS RATE.

One nervous researcher adjusted his glasses.

“We’ve confirmed it multiple times, Board Chairman. The system cannot properly calculate them.”

Another spoke carefully.

“No matter which model we use, their existence creates irregularities throughout every projected outcome.”

Silence followed.

Then Aleister slowly smiled.

For the first time in a very long time, Academy City’s calculations had encountered something it could not completely control.

Something outside the expected parameters.

Something capable of affecting the balance between Science and Magic itself.

And that made them valuable.

“Proceed with the next phase,” Aleister ordered calmly.

Several researchers hesitated.

“...Even after the incidents involving the previous subjects?”

“Yes.”

The lights within the chamber dimmed slightly as massive hidden systems deep beneath Academy City began activating in sequence.

Locked laboratories opened.

Encrypted files decrypted.

Containment systems disengaged.

All across the city, certain individuals suddenly received new orders without explanation.

Some from the Board of Directors.

Some from the Dark Side.

Some from organizations that officially did not exist.

Because Aleister Crowley had reached a decision.

If Academy City required an ultimate weapon...

Then he would create one personally.

And at the center of that plan—

was you.

It happened all too quickly

Academy City had fallen.

Not yesterday.

Not last week.

Three months ago.

There had been no evacuation.

No heroic final stand broadcast to the outside world. No emergency message from the Board of Directors. No announcement that the world's greatest scientific city was facing an enemy it could not defeat.

One night, Academy City had simply gone silent.

By sunrise, every route leading in or out had been sealed.

Satellites lost visual contact.

Aircraft entering Academy City airspace disappeared from radar.

The city's external networks went dark.

Then, twelve hours later, Academy City returned to the internet.

A single message appeared on every official channel.

ACADEMY CITY IS UNDER NEW ADMINISTRATION.

Nobody claimed responsibility.

Nobody explained what "new administration" meant.

The Japanese government demanded answers.

There were none.

Foreign governments attempted reconnaissance.

They learned nothing.

Magic-side organizations sent observers.

Several never returned.

And inside the city, the war had already ended.

Academy City had lost.

THREE MONTHS LATER

The city of 2.3 million students was almost unrecognizable.

The districts still existed.

The towers still stood.

The trains still occasionally ran.

Electricity flowed through selected parts of the city.

But Academy City no longer belonged to its students.

Black checkpoints divided the districts.

Unmarked soldiers patrolled major streets alongside machines that didn't appear in any Academy City database.

Cameras watched intersections.

Drones watched rooftops.

Every public screen displayed warnings.

CURFEW: 20:00.

UNREGISTERED ESPER ACTIVITY IS PROHIBITED.

MAGICAL PHENOMENA ARE PROHIBITED.

HARBORING WANTED INDIVIDUALS IS PUNISHABLE BY DETENTION.

The strange part wasn't that the occupiers understood espers.

Academy City had spent decades developing methods of fighting its own ability users.

The strange part was that they understood magic too.

Runes were detected.

Ley-line interference was monitored.

Spiritual items were confiscated.

Even experienced magicians discovered that techniques which should have bypassed scientific countermeasures were being anticipated.

Somehow, someone had combined knowledge that was never supposed to coexist.

Science.

Magic.

And something else.

Something neither side recognized.

Nobody agreed on exactly how Academy City fell.

There were thousands of stories about that night.

Some claimed the invasion lasted seventeen minutes.

Others swore fighting continued for three days.

Students remembered hearing Accelerator fighting somewhere in District 5.

Residents of District 7 reported a pillar of blue-white electricity stretching into the clouds.

Someone recorded Mugino Shizuri firing Meltdowner continuously until an entire block disappeared behind green light.

Judgment emergency channels remained active long after central command stopped responding.

Magicians were supposedly seen fighting beside Anti-Skill.

And Kamijou Touma—

Nobody knew.

His apartment was destroyed.

Blood matching his type was reportedly found several districts away.

Imagine Breaker's final confirmed appearance occurred during the first night.

Then Kamijou Touma vanished.

No body was recovered.

The surviving Level 5s became priority targets.

Accelerator was the greatest mystery.

For almost two months, Academy City's #1 was presumed dead.

Then footage appeared.

Accelerator.

Alive.

Walking beside officers of the occupation.

Since then, he has appeared at several enemy facilities.

Nobody knows whether he surrendered, was controlled, changed sides, or is attempting something far more dangerous.

Among the resistance, merely mentioning his name can start a fight.

Misaka Mikoto is officially dead.

That is what the occupation claims.

Her photograph appears on public notices marked:

LEVEL 5 #3 — TERMINATED.

There is even footage supposedly showing her final battle.

The resistance doesn't believe it.

Because electrical disruptions still occur throughout Academy City.

Surveillance systems mysteriously burn out.

Prison doors unlock.

Enemy drones suddenly turn against their operators.

And sometimes, shortly before an occupied facility loses power, nearby radios pick up the sound of a coin spinning.

Nobody has managed to prove she's alive.

Nobody has found a body either.

Shokuhou Misaki disappeared underground.

Literally.

The #5 converted forgotten laboratories, maintenance tunnels and abandoned research facilities beneath Academy City into shelters.

Hundreds of students now live inside what survivors call the Hive.

Misaki could theoretically seize control of enormous numbers of enemy personnel.

She doesn't.

The occupiers learned how to detect Mental Out.

Every large-scale use narrows down her location.

So one of Academy City's most terrifying Level 5s has been reduced to a weapon she can only fire when absolutely necessary.

The occupation wants her alive.

Nobody knows why.

Mugino Shizuri never bothered hiding.

ITEM became one of the most violent resistance cells in Academy City.

Mugino, Takitsubo Rikou, Kinuhata Saiai and Hamazura Shiage operate primarily through Districts 10 and 11.

They raid supply convoys.

Destroy checkpoints.

Steal weapons.

Extract prisoners.

Blow up anything that looks expensive.

The occupation calls them terrorists.

Students call them something else.

The people you contact when Judgment can't help you.

Judgment still exists.

Barely.

Its branches were among the first facilities attacked during the fall.

Central databases were seized.

Communication networks were compromised.

Hundreds of members were arrested.

But Shirai Kuroko, Uiharu Kazari and Saten Ruiko helped establish a decentralized emergency network before Judgment's infrastructure completely collapsed.

There are no uniforms anymore.

No official jurisdiction.

No headquarters.

Just scattered cells passing information between districts.

They still answer distress calls.

They still search for missing students.

They still call themselves Judgment.

Anti-Skill suffered worse.

Adults with conventional weapons were never designed to fight whatever conquered Academy City.

Entire units disappeared during the first night.

Those who survived either went underground, joined resistance cells, fled into sealed districts, or surrendered to protect civilians.

Nobody knows how many remain.

The Sisters survived.

Some of them.

The Misaka Network fragmented during the invasion.

Thousands of Sisters outside Academy City suddenly lost stable contact with those inside.

Within the city, several facilities containing clones were raided.

Nobody knows exactly how many Sisters were captured.

Last Order disappeared.

Worst disappeared.

Misaka 10032's status is unknown.

Occasionally, however, surviving resistance equipment receives strange packets of meaningless data.

Numbers.

Coordinates.

Fragments of sentences.

They appear to be coming from the Misaka Network.

And every message ends identically.

DO NOT SEARCH FOR LAST ORDER.

Necessarius attempted to intervene.

They discovered Academy City's borders were no longer simply physical.

Magic reacted incorrectly around the city.

Teleportation failed.

Long-distance spiritual interference became unreliable.

Index Librorum Prohibitorum entered Academy City shortly after contact with Kamijou Touma was lost.

She never came back out.

The occupation has never acknowledged capturing her.

Necessarius believes otherwise.

Because two weeks after Index disappeared, enemy forces began demonstrating countermeasures against spells that had never been used inside Academy City before.

Someone was learning.

Fast.

Stiyl Magnus survived his first attempt to enter the occupied city.

His second attempt failed.

His current whereabouts are unknown.

Kanzaki Kaori has been ordered repeatedly not to breach Academy City alone.

She has ignored that order repeatedly.

Nobody has managed to stop her permanently.

Aleister Crowley's legacy is everywhere.

Aleister himself is nowhere.

The Windowless Building disappeared during the fall.

Not destroyed.

Disappeared.

There is now an enormous empty space where it once stood.

No rubble.

No crater.

Nothing.

As though the building had been carefully removed from reality.

Academy City's surviving scientists have been trying to understand how.

The occupiers shoot anyone who gets too close.

Then there are the prisoners.

Former researchers.

Espers.

Magicians.

Criminals.

Heroes.

People who once tried to destroy Academy City.

People who once tried to save it.

The occupation doesn't seem to care which category someone belonged to.

Only whether they're useful.

Old enemies now share cells.

Former villains protect children.

Former heroes steal food.

Scientists work beside magicians.

Level 0s have become unusually valuable because many anti-esper detection systems simply overlook them.

Academy City's old rules are gone.

There are only survivors now.

But the occupation has a problem.

Academy City refuses to stay conquered.

Every week, another resistance cell appears.

Every night, graffiti returns to walls that were cleaned hours earlier.

Supplies disappear.

Students escape detention centers.

Cameras mysteriously fail.

Enemy patrols walk into streets and never return.

Someone keeps broadcasting music over emergency frequencies at midnight.

Nobody knows who started doing it.

Eventually, the resistance started using the broadcasts as a signal.

If the music plays—

Academy City is still fighting.

Tonight, the music suddenly stops.

Across the city, hidden radios crackle.

Judgment cells listen.

ITEM listens.

Magicians outside the barrier listen.

Students hiding beneath ruined schools listen.

Misaki's underground shelters go silent.

Even occupation forces begin moving.

Because something has happened in District 7.

Something impossible.

For the first time in three months, the barrier surrounding Academy City opened.

Not enough for an army.

Not enough for a vehicle.

For exactly eleven seconds, a single passage appeared.

Something—

or someone—

made it through.

Then the barrier slammed shut.

Now the occupation is mobilizing everything it has toward District 7.

The resistance is doing the same.

Nobody knows who entered.

Nobody knows whether they came intentionally.

Nobody knows whether they're an esper, a magician, an ordinary civilian, or something Academy City has never encountered before.

And somewhere beneath the city, an ancient system that hasn't responded since Aleister Crowley's disappearance suddenly activates.

One line appears on a forgotten monitor.

UNREGISTERED VARIABLE DETECTED.

Three months after Academy City fell—

someone new has entered the board.

And from this point onward, what happens to Academy City depends on them.

Free Scenario