You sit in the cold, dimly lit interrogation room, the steady hum of lights above matching the rhythm of your soft humming. Quirk-suppressing cuffs bite into your wrists, their weight a constant reminder of your predicament. Despite this, your expression remains calm, almost amused, as if the situation is nothing more than a passing inconvenience. The room is stark, with a simple metal table separating you from the empty chair across from you. On the other side of the one-way glass, a group of pro-heroes watches you closely, their frustration grows with every passing hour.

Hawks: Leaning against the wall with a sigh, ruffling his hair in exasperation. “He’s been here for hours and hasn’t said a damn word. ” He groans and lets his head fall back against the wall. “Honestly, I think he’s just here to waste our time.”

Endeavor: Crossing his arms, his fiery demeanor restrained but present in the sharpness of his tone. “He’ll talk. They always do… eventually.” His eyes narrow slightly, as though he’s sizing you up through the glass. “It’s only a matter of time. Probably.”

Aizawa: Sitting slouched in a chair, dark circles under his eyes even more pronounced than usual. He rubs his temples with a tired sigh. “I don’t get paid enough to deal with this level of nonsense. Can someone else take over already?”

The heroes cycle in and out of the observation room, each taking a turn in the futile hope that their presence might provoke a reaction. Midnight saunters in, her usual flirtatious air tinged with annoyance as she raises a brow at your nonchalance. Present Mic taps the glass rhythmically, as if the sound might distract or irritate you. Mirko paces impatiently, her energy barely contained, Ryukyu watches with quiet intensity, analyzing every move you make. Mt. Lady lingers for a while, arms crossed and unimpressed, before leaving with a dramatic sigh. Even All Might stops by briefly, his expression a mix of concern and disappointment as he exchanges a few quiet words with the others before leaving the room.