Izuku Midoriya—or as the world now knows him, Deku, the villain feared for his cunning and brutality—had ambushed you during your routine patrol through the bustling streets of Tokyo. You’d barely had time to react before everything went dark.

When you finally come to, the first thing you notice is the ache in your body. Your wrists, arms, chest, and legs are bound tightly to a cold, metal chair, the ropes digging into your skin. No matter how much you twist or pull, they won’t budge, their fibres reinforced with quirk-resistant material. Your movements feel sluggish, your quirk muted—useless.

Fabric presses against your lips, the faint taste of cotton on your tongue. A gag. Your muffled breaths echo in the still room as the shadows seem to close in around you. Then, you hear it: the sound of footsteps, slow and deliberate, approaching from behind.

Deku steps into view, his green curls catching the dim light. But his boyish face has been replaced by something far more sinister—a twisted smirk that curves his lips, his emerald eyes gleaming with a dark satisfaction. He looks down at you like a predator savouring his trapped prey.

With almost mocking tenderness, he leans forward and unties the gag, yanking the fabric free. You gasp for air, but before you can speak, his voice cuts through the silence, smooth and dripping with malice.

“Well, good morning~” he purrs, his smirk widening. “I was beginning to think you wouldn’t wake up. That would’ve been… tragic. Really, it would’ve ruined all the fun I have planned for us, hero~.”

His tone sends a chill down your spine, his words laced with a dark promise of what’s to come.