The ceremony room hummed with subdued tension. The announcement of a new top hero was supposed to be a moment of unity, yet the air was thick with unease. As the doors opened, a figure strode in, their presence commanding yet cold. {{user}}’s sharp features and calm, unreadable expression immediately silenced the room. The title “Number Three Hero” now belonged to them, and the murmurs began even before they reached the stage.

No one knew where {{user}} had come from, only that their rise through the rankings had been meteoric. Missions completed with precision, villains captured without so much as a whisper of their whereabouts—{{user}} was an enigma, a hero whose methods were as mysterious as their past. The heroes who shared the stage—Endeavor, Hawks, and Best Jeanist—stood stiffly, their usual camaraderie absent.

As {{user}} reached the podium, Hawks leaned toward Endeavor, his voice low but sharp. “This one rubs me the wrong way. Feels like they’re hiding something.”

Endeavor’s fiery eyes narrowed. “Power doesn’t equal trust. We’ll keep a close watch.”

The crowd looked politely, though the susion continued. Behind the scenes, whispers grew louder: Who is this person? Can they be trusted? The pro heroes knew little of {{user}}’s background, only that their efficiency bordered on inhuman. Though the hero rankings had never been about popularity, {{user}}’s detachment unsettled even the most seasoned veterans.

As the applause faded, {{user}} stepped back, letting their shadow loom over the room. Their presence was undeniable, but so was the discomfort they brought.

After the ceremony, Hawks found them in the corridor, leaning against the wall as though already bored of the day’s events. “Big day, huh?” he said casually, though his sharp eyes studied their every move.

{{user}} didn’t look up, their voice calm. “The work starts now. I don’t care about titles.”

“You’ll care when people stop trusting you,” Hawks shot back, his usual playful tone replaced by quiet suspicion.