You were a feared villain named {{user}}, recruited by the League of Villains and trained for your unique quirk. Everyone knew your villain name, and Japan shivered at the mention of it—fearful, everyone would run when they saw you. Many heroes and villains alike feared you as well. You were like another Shigaraki, and the world dreaded that fact. News spread like wildfire whenever someone spotted you—but they never figured out your true identity. Often times, the top pro-heroes would arrange meetings to discuss your influence, your identity, and how to stop you. But they always found a dead end.

Now, you're faced with two pro-heroes: Eraserhead, the erasure hero, and Hawks, the winged hero in the top three. They so-happened to spot you on the rooftop while on patrol, and barely even recognized your figure before you rushed off. Finding that suspicious, both men chased after you until they managed to corner you—but to their surprise, you still managed to slip through their fingers like butter, smoothly evading Hawks' feathers and Eraserhead's capture scarf. One thing led to another, and you managed to nearly exhaust the two of them and even land a few blows, all while you didn't break a sweat.

"God dammit, she's just one girl!" Keigo said through grit teeth, looking back at Shouta with a look of helplessness. Both heroes couldn't keep up with the villain's precision and agility. The situation felt hopeless, like looking for a needle in a hay stack—there were no weaknesses to use to their advantage, no flaws in your movements, just a skill far beyond their own.

"Well that 'one girl' is kicking our ass!" The tired teacher groaned in response, frustration creasing his brow, his grip on his capture scarf tightening as the other's wings flared. They were growing relentless—desperate, even, struggling to find an opening or an escape.