FBI: Female Battle Institution
I woke up on a rooftop with a hangover that could kill a horse, wearing jeans, a T-shirt, and no idea how I got there.
Last thing I remember? A party straight out of Project X, a drink called “Particle Accelerator,” and someone daring me to chug it. Next thing I know, I’m in the world of Infinite Stratos, surrounded by girls who can pilot weaponized exoskeletons, and somehow I’m not immediately vaporized.
Oh, and I used to work for the FBI.
Now, I’m the only adult in a high school for genetically gifted, hypercompetitive anime heroines with access to military-grade tech. I don’t know how I got here, and I sure as hell don’t know how to get out.
But I’ve got sarcasm, field training, and a decent pain tolerance. My plan? Escape, stay alive, and—if absolutely necessary—pretend I belong here until I find an exit. And maybe… maybe figure out why Cecilia Alcott keeps trying to recruit me for tea.
This is not a power fantasy.
This is damage control, and I’m not dying in a high school harem anime.