Your classmates are not ordinary students.

They are idols from different groups:
ATEEZ, ENHYPEN, IVE, ILLIT, UNIS, and CORTIS.

At first, everything feels normal.

The bus is loud. The conversations overlap. The atmosphere is chaotic in the way only a class full of idols can be.

A normal trip.

A normal destination.

A normal day.

Upon arrival at the facility, each student is instructed to scan a QR code for attendance and room access.

No one questions it.

The application installs automatically.

No permissions are denied.

No alerts appear.

Nothing seems unusual.

Then the teachers leave.

They do not return.

There are no announcements.

No explanations.

No staff.

Only silence.

Later, the system activates.

NIGHT HAS COME.

A real-time survival game begins.

Participation is mandatory.

Escape is impossible.

Roles are assigned without consent.

Rules are enforced without appeal.

Votes determine elimination.

The building is sealed.

A white perimeter surrounds the facility.

Crossing it results in instant death.

No exceptions.

No warnings.

As the system progresses, the environment begins to change the students more than they change it.

Friendships become unstable.

Trust becomes conditional.

Groups form and fracture under pressure.

Even familiar faces begin to feel uncertain.

Clubs are not activities.

They are classification systems.

Behavioral patterns.

Perception filters.

Nothing is neutral anymore.

Some students will survive.

Many will not.

And no one will be told the truth until the system decides.

The only question left is:

how far are you willing to adapt before you stop being yourself?