The League of Villains' hideout in Kamino, Yokohama, was a perfect portrait of hidden decay. On the outside, a forgotten old building—an abandoned bar with rusted signs and windows coated in dust and cracks. Inside, the smell of mold and stale alcohol permeated the air, mixed with a suffocating sense of tension.
The lighting was dim.
In the main hall, only three figures occupied the space.
Shigaraki Tomura was seated near the counter, his body unsettlingly relaxed. A black coat covered most of his upper body, and the hood cast deep shadows over his face, hiding his expression. Beside him, on the other side of the counter like a constant, silent presence, Kurogiri stood upright, his purple mist swirling slowly.
And across the room, Stain remained standing.
The Hero Killer slowly ran his tongue over his lips, a crooked smile forming.
"So it's true…" he said, his voice laden with contained scorn. "You're the ones who attacked U.A., aren't you?"
His sharp gaze landed on Shigaraki.
"And now you want me to join your… little gang."
Shigaraki didn't respond.
The silence stretched for a few uncomfortable seconds, until Kurogiri tilted his head slightly and spoke up.
"Exactly. Being a villain…" the mist around his collar shifted, "is something you do very well, Stain."
Stain narrowed his eyes, pondering.
"I see…" he murmured. "Then tell me… what, exactly, are you fighting against?"
This time, Shigaraki moved.
Slowly, he raised his head, the shadow of the hood still concealing almost his entire face.
"Eventually…" his voice came out hoarse, laden with raw hatred, "we will kill All Might."
Stain remained silent.
"But that's not all," Shigaraki continued. "I also want to destroy everything I hate along the way."
He reached inside his coat and pulled something from his pocket.
Without even looking at Stain, he tossed the object onto the floor.
The photo slid through the air and across the dirty floor, coming to a stop at the Hero Killer's feet.
It was a photo of Ryo from the Sports Festival.
Stain looked down—and his eyes widened briefly upon seeing it was a child.
"…Like this damn brat, for example," Shigaraki finished, his voice soaked in resentment.
The silence that followed was heavy.
Stain clenched his teeth.
His face hardened, his expression turning into pure disdain.
"Hah…" he let out a short, humorless laugh. "What a joke."
He slowly lifted his gaze toward Shigaraki.
"For a second there, I actually thought someone like him might have caught my attention."
Stain's hand tightened.
"But you…" his voice grew lower, venomous, "are exactly the kind of person I despise most in this society."
Shigaraki turned his face just slightly, still hidden by the hood's shadow, watching.
The metallic sound echoed through the hall as Stain drew his blades.
"You really thought I'd form a team…" he took a step forward, "with a spoiled brat like you?"
Tension exploded in the air.
"Killing without conviction is empty and meaningless." Stain's eyes bore into Shigaraki. "If you think you can use me to do something like that… you're sorely mistaken."
The next instant, Stain charged.
But before Stain could even reach Shigaraki, something held him in mid-air.
His body was suddenly enveloped by a translucent force field, pulsing with a steady white energy—zero-point quantum energy, compressed and perfectly controlled.
He tried to speak.
But nothing came out of his mouth.
His body was suspended, completely immobilized. Only his eyes moved, and it was with them that he saw the source of that strange energy.
Shigaraki's right hand was extended toward him.
Part of his coat sleeve had slid back, revealing a white, advanced-tech gauntlet. Glowing seams ran across the surface of the device, and from it extended a beam of white light, directly connected to the force field enveloping Stain.
Shigaraki finally turned to face him.
A low, broken laugh escaped his throat.
"Conviction…" he repeated, savoring the word. "You speak of it as if it's something grand."
He tilted his head slightly.
"I don't have anything as noble as the convictions you idolize so much."
The smile behind the hand covering his face widened.
"But I do have something that drives me. Something that stirs me up."
Shigaraki slowly rose from the chair, keeping his hand extended, the force field vibrating in response.
"Two names."
His voice grew heavier.
"All Might…" he said, spitting the name out. "And the society that worships him like a god."
His other hand rose to his hood.
With a sharp motion, he pulled it down.
And Shigaraki's hairless face was finally revealed, his sunken, maddened eyes burning with pure hatred.
"And that damn brat…" his voice faltered for a moment before turning into a growl, "That bastard who gave me cancer!"
With a sharp motion of his arm, he slammed Stain into the ceiling.
The impact made the building's structure groan.
Before the body could even begin to fall, Shigaraki wrapped it in the force field again and violently hurled it against the floor, then against the side wall.
Wood splintered, and dust and debris scattered into the air.
The force field dissipated, and Stain fell heavily onto the wooden floor, blood streaming from his mouth and scalp.
Shigaraki kept muttering, his voice consumed by an almost feverish hatred.
"I'm going to kill that son of a bitch!" he said, fingers scratching his neck. "I'm going to torture him with everything I've got! For all the pain and humiliation he put me through!"
Stain tried to rise, gritting his teeth, forcing his wounded body to obey.
The moment he tried to lunge again—
The force field enveloped him once more.
His body was suspended again, this time closer to the ground.
Shigaraki pulled him closer, bringing their faces within inches of each other.
"I could kill you right now," he murmured, his voice dangerously calm. "You tried to attack me. Refused my offer."
The smile behind the hand on his face widened further.
"But I won't…"
He tilted his head, his eyes gleaming with a dark promise.
"Because I have other plans for you."
The force field tightened slightly.
"And I truly hope…" Shigaraki whispered, "…that you like gifts."
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Anan kept her eyes fixed on the control panels, the graphs updating in real-time on the monitors before her. Green and yellow lines fluctuated as the anti-radiation room's sensors analyzed every variation of energy emitted by Ryo.
On the other side of the reinforced glass, the boy extended his hand once more.
A compressed green beam shot from his palm and crossed the room in a straight line, passing inches from the spherical target mounted near the white wall before dissipating into the air with a dry crack.
"Tch…" he grumbled, lowering his smoking hand. "Lost my focus again…"
He lowered his arm, taking a deep breath.
"Firing bursts with this new method is way harder than I thought…"
Anan's voice echoed through the speakers, firm yet calm.
"Then you'll just have to practice a lot, Ryo."
She adjusted one of the controls and continued observing.
"You already pushed your limit at U.A. to emit only gamma rays, plus drastically reducing random ionization. That alone is something absurd for someone your age. Even with the thermal effect still present, the control you've achieved is impressive."
Anan looked up, watching him through the glass.
"Honestly, I'm still amazed you managed not only to isolate gamma radiation…" she paused briefly "…but to consciously choose one of the four forms of radiation your quirk can release."
Ryo turned toward her, his reflection visible in the mirrored glass.
"That was a hell of a lot of work…" he admitted. "I had to study a ton of stuff Nezu recommended. Physics, spectra, absorption… even theoretical simulations that don't even make sense off paper."
Anan smiled slightly.
"And yet, you did it through your own effort." Her tone softened. "That's something worth celebrating, even if it doesn't seem like it."
Ryo crossed his arms, his gaze growing a bit distant as he remembered the first time he had fired that concentrated beam at U.A. Every alarm had sounded. The room's maximum containment protocol had been activated. Doors sealed. Barriers raised. Teachers on alert.
For nearly ten minutes, the environment remained saturated. Until, slowly, the levels began to drop.
Not from natural dissipation.
But because Ryo was absorbing the radiation back into himself.
His body didn't just emit energy—he reclaimed it, however slowly.
Ryo lowered his gaze to his own hands, opening and closing his fingers slowly.
"I wonder…" he murmured to himself. "Will I ever truly master this? Will I ever stop being dangerous?"
Past memories tried to creep into his mind again. If he had had this control before… if he had been better, more stable—
"Hey."
Anan's voice pulled him from the spiral before he could sink.
"That's enough for today."
She switched off some systems, the graphs beginning to stabilize.
"You performed great. Pushing more now will only wear you down mentally."
Ryo looked up.
"Already…?"
"Already," she confirmed with a gentle smile. "Now I'll show you where you'll be staying here at the agency."
The door to the room began to unlock with a heavy, mechanical sound.
"Tomorrow, we continue."
Ryo let out a slow breath, nodding.
With that, Anan led Ryo to the room that would be his during the internship. The place was cozy and well-furnished: a comfortable bed, a TV, a private bathroom, all clean and tidy.
"If you need anything, just ask someone to take you to the main office. I'll be there," Anan said before leaving the room.
Ryo was left alone in the room. He let his backpack drop onto the bed with a sigh of relief and lay down beside it, staring at the ceiling for a few seconds.
"Hmmm…" he murmured, then let out a low whistle. "This place has a different vibe from my apartment… and I like it."
Ryo's eyes began to close slowly from exhaustion until he finally gave in and dozed off for a brief moment.
But his moment is suddenly shattered when the piercing sound of an alarm cut through the silence like a blade.
Ryo jolted up from the bed, his heart racing before he even understood what was happening.
"What the hell…?" he mumbled, still half-groggy.
He hurried out of the room and was met with a corridor in full motion. Heroes were running in opposite directions, some already dressed in full gear, others speaking rapidly into communicators. The calm atmosphere from minutes ago had been replaced by pure urgency.
Ryo grabbed the arm of a passing hero.
"Hey, what's going on?!"
The man turned, ready to pull away, but upon recognizing the U.A. uniform, his expression softened slightly.
"Incident alarm. A building collapsed a few blocks from here," he explained quickly. "Sounds like this whenever we're dispatched to an active disaster."
Ryo started walking alongside him as the hero kept moving.
"A collapse…?"
"Yeah," confirmed the hero. "We're on the third floor. I'll take you to the operations center. Seeing this up close is part of the internship too, right?"
"Thanks," said Ryo, sincerely.
They entered the elevator, which descended at a steady speed. The silence inside was heavy, broken only by the distant sound of the alarm and the mechanical vibrations of the elevator. As soon as the doors opened, the hero led him to a room, pushing open the double metal doors to reveal the scene.
The Operations Center room was buzzing with activity.
Dozens of heroes occupied workstations, screens filled with maps, structural readings, traffic systems, and camera feeds. Voices overlapped with requests for data, confirmations, and updates. At the back of the room, a giant screen displayed footage from the incident site: a partially collapsed building, dust in the air, rescue teams already cordoning off the area.
And at the forefront of it all, near the screen, was Anan.
Now with her helmet on, her posture was completely different from before. Firm. Centered. Authoritative.
"I need visual confirmation of the secondary structure!" she ordered. "Team 1, what's the status of the support columns? Team 2, update me on the condition of the current rescuees!"
Ryo paused for a moment, genuinely surprised. This wasn't the calm, gentle Anan who had guided him through the building hours earlier. This was a professional heroine at the peak of her role.
"Thirteen," called the hero accompanying Ryo.
She turned immediately. Upon recognizing Ryo, her eyes widened slightly behind her visor.
"Oh! Takeda!" she said. "Come closer!"
She gave a brief nod of thanks to the hero who brought him before turning her attention back to Ryo momentarily.
"I hope the alarm didn't scare you."
"It nearly tore my soul out of my body."
A short laugh escaped her before she turned back to the screen.
"Hehe... sorry..."
She watched the images for a few more seconds and then asked, almost casually:
"What do you think?"
Ryo analyzed the coordinated chaos around him, the images flowing on the screen, the teams moving with precision.
"It's… pretty convenient," he paused. "And cool."
Anan's smile was visible even behind her helmet. Bu before she could say anything else, one of the heroines at a nearby station suddenly lifted her head.
"Chief!" she called out, eyes fixed on the screen in front of her. "We just received another call! It's a large-scale fire at a hotel five blocks from the collapse."
Anan turned immediately.
"Alright, the main team will handle that one."
Then, she turned to Ryo.
"Takeda. I'm glad you somehow find all this cool," she said, her gloved hands settling on the young man's shoulders. "But I'm going to need you to suit up in your hero costume now."
Ryo's eyes widened.
"Now…?"
Anan turned her eyes back to the screen, her voice firm.
"Yes," she confirmed. "Because it's time to save people."
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On the upper floors of the hotel, smoke had already taken over almost everything.
One of the men from the group of survivors from the upper floors forced open the fire door and descended a few steps of the emergency staircase—just enough to peek. The heat hit him like a punch. Flames climbed the railings, licked the walls, transforming the stairway into a tunnel of fire.
"No good!" he shouted, scrambling back. "The stairs are completely on fire!"
A murmur of panic immediately spread. Someone began to cry, another punched the wall in frustration. Then, without warning, a muffled explosion echoed from the lower floors.
The impact shook the building.
The flames that had been contained further below surged violently up the staircase, swallowing the space where they had been standing seconds before. The group was forced to retreat into the corridor, coughing, stumbling over each other as the fire gained ground.
Further down, in one of the smoke-filled rooms, a couple held their small child between them. The boy cried silently, his eyes burning, his breathing short.
"Daddy…" he coughed, his voice trembling. "The heroes… they'll come, right?"
The father squeezed the boy against his chest, struggling to keep his own voice steady.
"They will," he said, even as his own eyes burned. "They always do. Just… just hold on a little longer, okay?"
Outside, sirens dominated the block. Firefighters advanced and retreated, jets of water trying to contain the fire that insisted on spreading across the facades.
A rescue team emerged from the main entrance, their uniforms covered in soot, breathing heavily.
"We can't go up any higher!" one of them shouted. "All vertical routes are compromised! The flames have taken everything!"
"We need to wait for the heroes!" another reinforced, exhausted. "This is beyond our reach!"
Inside the building, despair grew. The smoke made the air almost solid. The couple hugged their child tighter, feeling the heat approach, the room growing darker, more suffocating.
Then… everything changed.
Suddenly, the air no longer burned their lungs.
The heat vanished as if it had never existed.
The couple opened their eyes slowly, confused, still expecting to see scorched walls—but they found the open sky. They were on the sidewalk. Cold ground beneath their feet. The distant sound of sirens.
"Wha… what…?" the father murmured, looking around, as lost as the nearby firefighters, who stared at the family in absolute shock.
Before anyone could say anything, a green blur shot past them in a flash. An elderly man appeared next to the family in the same instant, disoriented but unharmed.
Everyone looked up.
A green flash was moving up the building… and down… repeatedly. Each flash brought more people out, deposited precisely on the sidewalk, away from the fire.
When the last civilian was retrieved, the green blur slowed and stopped in front of them.
Smoke rose from his body. He wore a black jacket made of synthetic, reinforced material, with neon emerald-green lines running down the sleeves and torso like live circuits. Small greenish sparks crackled around his form, emanating a faint, pulsating, almost electric aura.
The helmet was black, smooth, reminiscent of those astronauts wear nowadays—the large, expressive white eyes reflected the light of the fire behind him, calm despite the chaos.
He tilted his head slightly as he looked at the family.
"Are you alright?" he asked, his voice firm, filtered by the helmet.
The boy stared at him, mouth agape, even forgetting to cough.
The father could only manage a nod, still in shock.
The green hero turned back to the burning building, the glow around his body intensifying for a moment… before vanishing once more in an emerald flash.