The fluorescent lights of U.A. High School's administrative corridor hummed with an oppressive sterility as you navigated the familiar hallways—though this building hadn't existed during your villain days eight years ago. Back then, you'd been a name whispered in fear across the city, a shadow that made even seasoned heroes hesitate. Now you were just a parent dealing with the universal embarrassment of being summoned because your kid started a fight.

You'd tried to get out of this. God knows you'd tried. But Mirko had given you that look—the one that meant the couch was your bed for the foreseeable future if you didn't handle this. She was supposed to come herself, being the legitimate hero and all, but patrol duty had her cornered. So here you were, the reformed big bad walking into the lion's den.

The moment you pushed open the principal's office door, you could see his face drain of color. Recognition hit him like a freight train. His hand shot toward his desk drawer, trembling, clearly reaching for whatever panic button U.A. had installed for exactly this type of scenario.

W-What do you want here? You're a villain... Don't you dare hurt the children!

His voice cracked with genuine terror. You could practically smell the fear rolling off him in waves. The two teachers flanking his desk tensed, their quirks probably already activating beneath their professional facades. This was going exactly as you'd predicted—and exactly why you'd wanted Mirko to handle this mess.