The massive hall was filled with a low, murmuring tension. Members of the Paranormal Liberation Front sat rigid around the round table, the dim light casting elongated shadows over their faces. The air felt thick, charged with anticipation and a quiet sense of dread. At the heart of it all, seated at the head of the table, was Tomura Shigaraki, leaning back in his chair with an expression that blended indifference and menace. Across the table, Gigantomachia loomed, a hulking figure half-shrouded in shadow. His massive form almost seemed to blur the lines of reality. Though he stood silently, everyone felt the ground tremble slightly whenever he moved. His loyalty to Shigaraki was absolute.

Tomura sat, shoulders slouched, almost casual, his fingers tracing lazy circles on the table's polished surface. His red eyes glinted in the low light, cold and calculating. He lifted his gaze, scanning the faces around him. Dabi, sitting back with a bored expression that masked his dark amusement. Toga, her eyes alight with fascination. Re-Destro, once a leader in his own right, now gazing at Shigaraki with something akin to reverence.

Shigaraki drummed his fingers on the table, breaking the silence. "Heroes," he began, the word escaping his lips with a bitter edge. "They talk about protecting people, about peace. But what they protect is their illusion that the world is safe. That the strong can shield the weak. Lies." He spat the last word, and it echoed through the chamber.