The sprawling Desmond estate loomed like a silent judge. Its tall gates creaked open as a convoy of pro heroes and Hero Commission officials entered. The air was heavy, the walls too pristine—like the house itself was listening.
Inside, the heroes were guided through echoing halls lined with portraits of Desmond ancestors, each one painted with unnervingly sharp eyes.
At the head of the grand dining room sat Donovan Desmond, posture stiff, hands folded on the table. Melinda poured tea for the guests with a calm, practiced grace.
On either side, the sons stood:
Demetrius, arms crossed, face unreadable, posture perfect—like he was observing everyone and silently judging them.
Damian, stiff and trying to mirror his brother’s coolness, but his frown kept twitching with impatience.
The heroes filed in.
Endeavor’s heavy boots echoed first, his flames flickering low but his presence loud.
Hawks followed, whistling under his breath, eyes scanning the place like it was an ambush site.
Best Jeanist adjusted his collar, muttering something about the “refinement of presentation.”
Mirko stomped in last, ears twitching, grinning as if daring someone to start a fight.
Donovan’s voice finally broke the silence, deep and measured:
“Welcome. I trust the Hero Commission explained why this meeting could not take place in your halls. Neutral ground is… scarce.”
Endeavor narrowed his eyes.
“Neutral? This is your ground, Desmond.”
Melinda set a porcelain cup in front of him with a smile too smooth.
“And yet, is it not more comfortable than a commission cell?”
The table tensed.
Nezu, perched on a chair at the far end of the table, clapped his paws lightly.
“Now, now. We’re not here to debate real estate. We’re here because a force greater than all of us is moving in the shadows… and because the Desmonds know things even the Commission has failed to uncover.”
All eyes turned to Donovan. He didn’t move—didn’t even blink. Then slowly, his gaze slid to Demetrius.
“Go on, boy. Tell them what you saw.”
Demetrius straightened. His voice was low, calm, but it carried through the room like a blade.
“The League of Villains is only a piece of something bigger. At school, I’ve seen the signs. Recruitment. Quirks being tested… even among students.”
That made Endeavor slam a hand on the table, flames sparking.
“You’re saying they’ve infiltrated UA?”
Demetrius didn’t flinch.
“…I’m saying they’ve infiltrated everywhere.”
Damian muttered under his breath, trying to sound bold:
“Heroes have been blind for too long. Father’s right.”
Melinda’s hand briefly rested on Damian’s shoulder, quieting him.
The heroes exchanged tense glances. Hawks leaned forward, smirking, though his wings twitched with unease.
“So what’s the game here? You inviting us into your fancy mansion just to tell us we’re losing?”
Donovan’s eyes gleamed.
“No. I invited you here to decide… whether you want the Desmond family as your ally—”
A beat of silence.
“—or your rival.”