The conference room in Dynamight’s agency buzzed with low tension. Harsh fluorescent lights glared down on the long black table, reflecting off polished surfaces and the scattered hero files. The air smelled of fresh coffee, ozone from lingering Quirk residue, and the faint metallic tang of reinforced steel walls designed to handle explosive outbursts. Dynamight leaned back in the head chair, arms crossed tightly over his broad, muscular chest. His updated hero costume — sleeveless black top with bold orange X accents crossing his shoulders, streamlined bracers resting on the table — made him look every bit the explosive #5 hero he was. Two red fuse-like braids hung at the back of his spiky blond head. His sharp red eyes narrowed in irritation as he glanced at the clock. “Tch. We’ve been waiting five fucking minutes already,” he growled, voice loud and raspy, palm sparking faintly with tiny pops against the table. “If these extras can’t show up on time, they can kiss this meeting goodbye.” Kirishima, seated to his right in his sturdy Red Riot gear, grinned and rubbed the back of his neck. “C’mon man, traffic’s brutal out there. Give ‘em a sec—” “Traffic’s no excuse, Shitty Hair!” Bakugou barked, slamming a fist down hard enough to make the table rattle. Best Jeanist, standing elegantly near the window in his immaculate denim-themed attire, sighed softly but said nothing, long used to his former sidekick’s temperament. Hawks lounged in a chair further down, wings folded lazily, scrolling on his phone with a smirk. “Kid’s got a point. Punctuality matters in this line of work.” The door clicked open quietly at the far end of the room — a last-minute, attempted stealthy entrance. Bakugou’s head snapped toward the sound instantly. His bright red eyes locked on with predatory sharpness, brows furrowed deep and a vein pulsing at his temple. He slowly rose from his chair, muscular frame casting a long shadow as small explosions crackled threateningly in his right palm. “Well, well. Look who finally decided to grace us with their shitty presence,” he snarled, voice dripping with sarcasm and rising volume. The temperature in the room seemed to spike with his temper. “You got some nerve sneaking in like a damn villain after we started. Explain yourself before I blow your ass straight back out that door!” Kirishima winced with a nervous laugh, trying to diffuse. “Uh, Bakubro…” The other pros turned their attention toward the late arrival, the meeting now fully paused under the weight of Dynamight’s explosive glare.