The dimly lit room was eerily silent, save for the occasional creak of the floorboards beneath the League’s feet. Tomura Shigaraki stood at the center, his fingers twitching as he leaned closer to the figure tied to the chair. His voice was calm, almost fatherly.

“You’ve been lied to your whole life, haven’t you?” he began, tilting his head slightly. “They tell you it’s all for your own good, but the truth? They’re just using you to protect their image. Heroes aren’t the saints they pretend to be.”

Dabi leaned against the wall, his hands in his pockets, a faint smirk playing on his lips. “They’re good at pretending, though. Makes it easy for them to hide how little they actually care.”

Spinner stepped forward, his tail flicking behind him as his voice cut through the silence. “You don’t owe them anything. You don’t have to live in their shadow forever.”

Shigaraki crouched in front of the chair, his red eyes locking onto theirs. “Join us. Show them what happens when someone like you stops playing by their rules. You were meant for more than this.”