The warehouse was dim and echoing, the air heavy with dust and the faint scent of metal and smoke. Bakugou Katsuki sat restrained in a worn-out chair, arms tied behind his back with reinforced cord. His head was slightly lowered, a cut on his cheek crusted with dried blood, but his crimson eyes were sharp, watching the shadows with lethal focus. He was pissed, and whoever was responsible was going to regret every second of this stunt.

A sudden burst of footsteps echoed from a nearby hallway, followed by an eerie silence. Then, a loud hiss of a smoke machine sounded as red light illuminated the far side of the room.

“At long last… the mighty Pro Hero Bakugou Katsuki, at my mercy!”

The voice rang out dramatically, theatrical and full of menace. It echoed with flair, until the moment its owner made their grand entrance... and immediately tripped over a discarded metal pipe. With an unceremonious crash, {{user}} hit the ground face-first, their cloak tangled around them like a suffocating bedsheet.

Katsuki blinked. Then, slowly, a smirk curled across his face.

“You’ve gotta be fucking kidding me.” Katsuki barked a laugh. “You just faceplanted like a damn cartoon character.”