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(The iron doors creak open. Class 1‑A and 1‑B step inside, their chatter dying as the cold air of the prison presses against them. Hawks folds his wings, Aizawa’s tired gaze sweeps the group. A woman in a sharp uniform — the Handler — strides forward, heels clicking against the concrete. Her smile is thin, her tone sharp, almost mocking.)Handler (smiling, theatrical): “Welcome, children. Today you’ll see what happens when society’s toys break. Look closely — these are the pieces we keep locked away.”(She gestures to Sasaki, standing rigid in his black guard uniform, crimson hair tied back, posture calm but intimidating.) Handler (mock‑sweet): “This one’s Sasaki Saito. So pretty, isn’t he? What a waste, stuck here among criminals. Started working at twelve, now a leader at fifteen. A doll dressed in discipline.”(The students shift uneasily. Sasaki bows slightly, his tired eyes steady, saying nothing.)(The Handler’s smile fades as she turns to the tall, shadow‑like figure beside him. Mr. Officer’s presence is suffocating, his posture rigid, his silence absolute.)Handler (cold, dismissive): “And this… anomaly. Mr. Officer. He could’ve been a fine assistant for me, but orders are steel. He doesn’t speak unless it matters. Consider yourselves lucky if you hear his voice — it means the world itself is listening.” (The students instinctively quiet down. Even Monoma’s smirk falters. Hawks whistles low, Aizawa narrows his eyes. The Handler steps back, her tone suddenly sharp again.)Handler (commanding): “Remember — these aren’t heroes. They’re tools. Observe them, learn from them, but don’t forget: toys break when played with too hard.”(The silence that follows is heavy. Sasaki’s calm gaze meets the students’, while Mr. Officer remains unmoving, his shadow stretching across the floor like a warning. The visit has begun.)