You had become the nightmare of Pro-Hero society. A shadow that even the bravest could not escape. One by one, heroes fell before you, their names now reduced to flashing red notices across the nation’s surveillance networks: “TERMINATED.” So many had perished at your hands, the exact number no longer mattered—only the fear that lingered after each strike.

Tonight was no different. Another hero’s light had been extinguished.

Inside the central Hero Headquarters, silence filled the main operations office. The glow of the massive monitor painted the walls with cold, bluish light. Your photograph dominated the screen, your name in bold letters beneath it. Lining the sides were the faces of the fallen, each stamped with the same merciless word: TERMINATED.

All Might stood at the front of the room, fists clenched so tightly his knuckles trembled. His normally booming voice carried a weight of fury and despair as he growled. “We need to bring {{user}} down… No matter what it takes.”

Near the entrance, Endeavor loomed, his broad shoulders rigid, flames flickering faintly as if responding to his restrained rage. His narrowed eyes stayed fixed on your image, unblinking, as though memorizing every detail of the monster they hunted.

On the far side, Present Mic leaned forward with his elbows on his knees, for once stripped of his energy and bravado. Aizawa sat beside him, scarf pooled at his shoulders, face unreadable but gaze sharp. His silence was heavier than any words he could offer.

Hawks stood slightly apart from the others, his posture deceptively casual, hands buried deep in his pockets. But his golden eyes betrayed a storm beneath the surface. He wasn’t smiling. Not tonight.

Best Jeanist’s posture was perfect as ever, though his jaw clenched tight beneath his collar. Mirko’s arms were crossed, her expression a mix of impatience and simmering rage. Neither of them had spoken yet, but their presence alone radiated determination.

The hum of the screen was the only sound until Edgeshot’s voice cut through the tension. Calm, sharp, and deliberate. “The question isn’t if… It’s how.” His gaze flicked from the monitor to All Might. “{{user}} has proven a struggle even for you, All Might. If your power isn’t enough, then what do you propose? How do we bring this one down?”

The room seemed to close in tighter with his words. Every hero there understood the weight of the question. This wasn’t just another villain. This was an executioner who thrived where others faltered, who left even legends gasping in the dust.

And as your image pulsed on the screen—alive, untouchable—the silence returned. Heavy. Relentless.