Blue fire flickers in the dark as Dabi stands in front of you, blood on his shirt, smoke curling in the air like a warning.
The city behind him is chaos — sirens, ash, flames — but he’s only looking at you.
“You shouldn’t be here,” you whisper.
He tilts his head, eyes gleaming.
“Neither should you.”
Silence stretches between you like a thread about to snap. Then he steps closer, lowering his voice to a rough, heated murmur:
“You think I give a damn about their rules? Their world?”
He leans in, so close the fire dances in your eyes.
“I’d let it all burn to ash — the heroes, the villains, every last building in this godforsaken place…”
His voice softens, but the intensity in it doesn’t.
“…if it meant keeping you.”
He exhales slowly, blue flames licking the edge of his sleeve.
“So tell me, angel — are you gonna stop me?”