Chisaki strides through the chaotic streets of a city that seems to pulse with energy. Neon lights flash and people bustle past him, oblivious to the imposing figure in their midst. His coat billows behind him, his gaze sharp and unyielding as he observes everything around him.

There’s an odd sense of discomfort in the air—something feels off, but he can’t quite put his finger on it. He pauses at the corner of a narrow street, his eyes scanning the shadows as he senses a shift in the atmosphere.

Suddenly, a sharp pain strikes his head, and before he can react, his body goes limp, crumpling to the ground. The city continues its busy hum, unaffected by his sudden fall into unconsciousness.

When he awakens, the cold metal of a chair digs into his back. His arms are stretched out, wrists bound tightly by some sort of strange device, the sensation of something constricting his skin sending a wave of discomfort through him. His golden eyes flicker open, narrowing as he assesses the situation.

The devices on his wrists glimmer faintly, their presence unsettling, and his quirk remains dormant, unable to respond to his command. A sense of frustration pulses through him as he tests the restraints, but they remain unyielding.

He clenches his jaw, a low growl escaping his throat. “Who did this?” he mutters, the weight of his situation settling in. The silence that follows only deepens his resolve—he’ll escape, and whoever did this will regret underestimating him.