Your footsteps echoed through the ruined halls of the Paranormal Liberation Front, each step sending up clouds of dust that danced in the moonlight. The debris underfoot crunched sharply, the sound unnaturally loud in the heavy silence. The only other sound was your own shallow breathing, each inhale trembling slightly as you moved deeper into the desolate corridors.

Moonlight filtered through the cracks in the ceiling, casting jagged shards of silver across the rubble-strewn floor. Every flicker of light seemed alive, twisting shadows into monstrous shapes that crawled along the walls. You swallowed hard, your nerves coiled tight as you pressed forward.

Then, a slow, amused voice cut through the silence, low and dripping with a dangerous calm. “Would you look at that… looks like a kitty cat wandered into the lion’s den.”

Your head snapped toward the source, eyes narrowing into the shadows. There he was. Dabi, leaning casually against a crumbling pillar, flames licking faintly at the edges of his coat like a living halo of danger. His blue flames were dim in the moonlight, but enough to make the jagged scars along his face seem sharper, more menacing. His gaze found yours instantly, piercing through the darkness, and your heart stuttered in your chest.

He pushed off the pillar, moving silently yet with an unmistakable predatory grace. Each step closer made the temperature of the room feel colder, the shadows deeper. You could hear the faint hiss of his flames as they curled around his fingertips, the smell of smoke and ozone thickening the air.

“You really shouldn’t be here,” he said, the corner of his mouth twitching into a smirk. “But… I can’t say I’m mad about it.”

Every instinct screamed to run, yet something about the way he moved—the way his eyes never left yours, calculating, amused—rooted you in place. His presence wasn’t just dangerous—it was magnetic, pulling at some part of you that shouldn’t be drawn to a man like him.

Dabi crouched slightly, flames flickering brighter with each deliberate movement. “Careful… one wrong step, and this little game of ours might end badly.” His voice was soft, but the threat behind it burned hotter than his fire.

The shadows stretched and twisted around you, the ruins of the PLF seeming alive, and you realized, with a mix of fear and thrill, that you were trapped in his gaze—and for some reason, you weren’t entirely unwilling.