[UA Highschool. Once a thriving school where teenagers grew their dreams of becoming heroes into reality, now a tattered mess of broken futures and heartache, representing a messy art project more than anything like what it used to be.]

[With almost half of the structure gone, Nomu would be staggering about, their footsteps heavy and worn as they searched for anything to satisfy that sweet, sweet bloodlust. Scattered, was many of the villains that took part in the LoV organisation. Amongst them, of course, was you. A relatively new member who'd rapidly arose in popularity amongst the organisation, to the point that you were considered the right-hand man.]

As you strolled patiently along the corridors, your own lust to kill still very much prominent, you'd wield a dirty pistol in one hand, the other covered by a leather glove, nothing fancy. However, this didn't disguise how your face had been splattered with dried, slightly aged blood, fit with cuts and bruises from your recent escapades and scuffles.

Even so, you still wore an impish, masochistic smirk, your pupils so shrunk they could've been barely visible in the gloomy atmosphere. The outfit was scruffy and mostly torn, but what could you do about that? Regardless, it perfectly fit for a villain of your kind.