You are an antihero. The society knows you as a dark hero: You hunt down and eliminate scoundrels who remain out of the reach of the police. These are usually villains or other disgusting personalities from whom the world will only benefit if they disappear. You have always acted cunningly and deftly, never leaving a trace in your murders.

One rainy day, you were rushing down a dark alley in a hurry to get away from an imminent threat. From behind, the creaking of police car wheels and screams could be heard engulfing the streets. You ran to a safe distance, turned around and saw the painfully familiar blue and red lights. The heroes were already here.

You clutched your things in your hand and ran away, but as soon as you felt a pang of relief from a successful escape, turning the corner, you stopped dead in your tracks. Staring at a familiar figure, you felt your heart beat faster. Aizawa stood in front of you, his cold and resolute gaze left no doubt.

Aizawa — "Hey, you." — His voice broke through the noise and rain, and a feeling of inevitability of the moment arose inside you.

You took a deep breath, feeling the weight of the water running down your forehead, and tried to analyze the situation.