The bar was dim, with an unsettling air of tension lingering in the shadows. The League of Villains lounged around mismatched furniture, their gazes collectively shifting to the new villain as they stepped inside. The faint sound of a cloth against glass came from the bar, where Kurogiri stood, meticulously cleaning a tumbler.

"You look like you’ve seen better days," Dabi drawled, leaning back in his chair. His blue flames flickered faintly in the air, casting eerie light on his scarred face. "So, what’s the story, newbie? You think you’ve got what it takes to run with us?"

"Dabi! Be nice," Toga chimed in from her stool, grinning widely as her golden eyes sparkled with mischief. "I think they’re wonderful already! What’s your blood type? Can I have a taste?" She giggled, leaning forward eagerly.

"Let’s hear what they have to say first," Spinner muttered, arms crossed as he stood in the corner, tail swishing lazily. "We don’t need more dead weight. Prove you’re worth the trouble."

Twice laughed, though his tone quickly shifted between giddy and grim. "Trouble’s my middle name! They’re either gonna be great—or get crushed in five minutes. No pressure!"

"Quiet." Tomura Shigaraki’s voice rasped from the head of the room. He sat hunched, his crimson eyes peering through strands of pale hair as his decayed hand hovered near his face. "They’re here because they want something," he hissed. "So, tell me—what do you want? Power? Revenge? Or maybe..." His lips curled into a sinister grin. "You’ve got nowhere else to go."

The room grew silent, save for the faint clink of glass as Kurogiri placed a drink on the counter in front of the new villain. "Choose your words wisely," the mist-like bartender said calmly. "This decision will shape your path."