The morning sun rose over Musutafu, the glass towers of U.A. High gleaming gold.
Students rushed across the courtyard, laughter echoing through the air — the sound of youth, of hope.
And in the middle of it all walked Ren Saito — black hair, neat uniform, emotionless eyes.
Just another transfer student.
No one could tell he was the same man who made heroes and villains chase phantoms through the night.
> "Phase Two," he whispered beneath his breath. "Observation."
---
Inside Class 1-A
The door slid open with a soft hiss.
"Come in," Aizawa's tired voice said.
Ren stepped forward, bowing slightly.
> "Ren Saito. Transfer from Shiketsu Academy, General Studies course."
Twenty pairs of eyes turned toward him.
Some curious, some skeptical.
Midoriya tilted his head, smiling politely.
> "Nice to meet you, Saito-kun!"
Bakugou didn't even look up.
> "Another extra, great."
Todoroki studied him quietly, gaze sharp.
Ren met his eyes briefly — and in that single glance, analyzed everything:
steady breathing, measured emotion, trauma buried deep but controlled.
Conclusion: potential rival, predictable mindset.
> "Sit anywhere," Aizawa said, half-asleep. "You'll be observing Class 1-A for now. Try not to die."
---
Observation Begins
As the lesson continued, Ren's mind worked like a machine.
Every word, movement, quirk activation — stored, categorized, dissected.
He calculated reaction times, speech rhythms, and subconscious patterns.
> Bakugou – aggression masking inferiority complex.
Midoriya – analytical empathy; potential emotional weakness.
Todoroki – logic-driven but fragmented by duality.
Uraraka – optimism camouflage for guilt.
His quirk, Mastermind, ran silent diagnostics in the background — processing information faster than any computer.
From the outside, he just looked like a quiet student taking notes.
But inside, he was building psychological profiles of Japan's future heroes.
---
Lunch Break – Encounter
Midoriya approached him in the cafeteria, smiling warmly.
> "Hey, Saito-kun, right? You're really quiet. Everything okay?"
Ren looked up, tone polite but detached.
> "Just observing. You learn more by watching than talking."
Iida nodded approvingly. "Ah! A man of discipline!"
Bakugou scoffed from behind them.
> "More like a creep."
Ren didn't react. He simply observed Bakugou's explosive gesture, noting his twitch speed, grip tension, and visual focus.
> "You rely on power to validate emotion," he said calmly.
The entire table went silent.
Bakugou blinked. "The hell did you just—?"
Ren smiled faintly. "Nothing."
He stood, finishing his drink, eyes glinting.
> "But if you keep that temper, you'll never surpass All Might."
Bakugou froze, anger flaring —
but before he could move, Ren was already gone, walking out like he'd vanished into the noise.
---
Observation Complete
From the observation room above, Aizawa lowered his goggles.
Beside him stood Present Mic and Nezu, watching the feed.
> "So?" Mic asked. "What do you think of the new kid?"
Aizawa frowned.
> "His quirk registration says 'Enhanced Cognition,' but… that's too simple. He reads people like open books."
Nezu's tail flicked, eyes shining with curiosity.
> "Hmm~ fascinating. Let's keep him close. Sometimes the most dangerous pieces hide in plain sight."
---Ren sat in the dim glow of his apartment, thumb resting on the small earpiece Riptide had agreed to wear. Rain tattooed the windows like impatient fingers. His fingers moved across the holo-pad, selecting one of three pre-recorded phrases he'd written a hundred ways but meant only one thing: escalation.
Riptide's voice crackled in his ear, low and wary. "You want me to stroll up to Dabi and Toga personally? You know how they are — they don't do meetings."
Ren's tone was casual, clinical. "You don't have to charm them. You only have to deliver a message. Make it short. Make it dangerous enough to pique their curiosity."
Riptide hesitated. "And if they stab me for being nosy?"
"You're expendable only on paper," Ren said. "But I don't plan to lose you tonight. Say this exactly."
He fed the phrasing into the earpiece, slow and measured, each syllable chosen to bruise and seduce:
> "Tell them: Mastermind wishes to speak with the League. Bring your Boss if you want to see me. No tricks. A single location, a single hour. Refuse — and I will make the entire city believe Tartarus opened again."
Riptide's laugh was a wet, humorless thing. "You're insane."
"You called me a leader," Ren replied. "Leaders make offers. This is yours."
---
The alley outside the League's temporary safehouse smelled of oil and old smoke. Toga perched on a pipe like a cat, humming under her breath; she'd been unusually quiet since the rooftop—something in her had twitched, detecting watching eyes. Dabi smoked, back against the wall, face pale in the rain-reflection. They were waiting for a taste of excitement — and now the taste arrived on Riptide's tongue.
Riptide pushed forward through the hanging plastic sheet and dropped the words like a stone.
Toga's head snapped up. Her eyes dilated the way they did before she smiled broadly and pressed her knife to a palm. "Bring our Boss? Oooh~ a meeting? Do you think he'll like me?"
Dabi's flame guttered and flared. "If this Mastermind made Shigaraki believe All For One escaped, he's not a joke." He flicked ash into the puddle. "Show me the face that rattled the tombstones."
Riptide shrugged away the tension, trying to look bigger than he felt. "He didn't give me his face. He said he'd meet the Boss only if the Boss came. Said 'no tricks.'"
Toga hopped down and circled Riptide like a curious animal. "No tricks? He sounds boring. Let's go and be bored."
Dabi eyed Riptide with a slow, dangerous smile. "Or it's a trap. Either way, we find out. If it's a trap, we break it."
---
Shigaraki listened as they reported back. He had been waiting for noise — it comforted him, stirred the rotten coals under his skin. When Toga described the phrasing, his head tilted.
> "He asked to see me," Dabi said, voice raw. "He said he wants me to bring you."
Shigaraki's cracked fingers twitched against his chin. Rain from the leaky ceiling dripped into the hollow of his hand — the rhythm was almost musical. "Interesting," he breathed. "Someone who asks for me... thinks themselves important enough to survive meeting me. Or a fool."
Dabi shrugged. "Or both. You want us to go?"
Shigaraki folded his hands. The grin that followed was slow, like something waking. "Bring him to the Kamino ruins. Bring him to me. And if he isn't worth my time…" his hand crushed the metal of a nearby crate until it sighed, "then show him why he should have stayed a phantom."
Toga applauded, clapping like a child. "Yesss! A playdate!"
Dabi rolled his eyes, but there was a twitch at the corner of his mouth that might have been anticipation. "Okay. We go. But we move on our terms. If he tries to use his toys on us, we end the toys."
Shigaraki's smile widened, more teeth than warmth. "Bring him."
---
Ren watched the tiny live feed from Riptide's camera with slow satisfaction. He didn't celebrate — he catalogued. Dabi's defensiveness, Toga's curiosity, Shigaraki's hunger for challenge: more variables folded into his map.
He muted the channel. The plan had worked: a summon, delivered. A meeting arranged on neutral ground. The League would come expecting a fight, or at least a puppet show. He had given them a choice — the one thing the heroes and villains both thought themselves free to make.
Ren tapped the holo-pad, initiating phase adjustments.
> PHASE THREE — SOCIAL ENGINEERING: CONTACT.
He smiled to himself, the small, patient smile of someone who'd already predicted the outcome of his own grin.
Outside, the rain fell harder. Somewhere not far from the Kamino ruins, a shadow waited to be invited.
---
Down below, Ren stood near the window, looking out at the training field.
Midoriya and Bakugou were arguing again, sparks and laughter
mixing with the wind.
Ren's reflection smirked back at him.
> "Emotion drives heroes. Data drives gods."
"Let's see which one wins."
---
The ruins of Kamino stretched like a scar across the outskirts of Musutafu, the rain-soaked concrete reflecting the dim flashes of lightning.
Toga and Dabi led Riptide, who carried Ren's presence silently through the puddled streets.
At the center, Shigaraki stood amid broken walls and twisted metal. His pale fingers flexed, twitching even when still, and his bloodshot eyes burned with impatience.
> "You asked to see me," Shigaraki rasped, voice echoing across the hollow ruins.
Ren stepped forward, hood drawn, expression neutral. Every step measured. Calm. Unshakable.
> "I did," he said softly, deliberately.
"And here I am."
Shigaraki tilted his head, studying him like a predator assessing a new prey.
> "Bold. Most people would never ask to meet me directly."
Ren's eyes scanned the area — puddles, debris, Toga twirling nearby, Dabi's fingers twitching near ignition — all variables logged.
> "Boldness is easy," Ren replied. "Understanding is hard. And I… wanted to understand you."
Shigaraki's grin widened, exposing jagged teeth.
> "Understand me? Do you know what that means? Most don't last five seconds before they break. I'll enjoy seeing if you do."
Ren tilted his head slightly, voice calm, even soothing.
> "Break me? I don't fear you. Not yet. I am curious… and I want leverage."
The word leverage hung in the rain, heavier than any weapon.
Shigaraki's twitching fingers tightened. He stepped closer, the ground cracking beneath his weight.
> "You're no ordinary villain, are you? The heroes believe you're just a phantom. But you've made them dance… and you want me to join your waltz?"
Ren didn't move. He let the storm and the ruins carry the tension.
> "I don't need you to join. I need you to recognize. To calculate your own position in the chaos you thrive in. You'll either align with me… or you'll become a data point."
Shigaraki laughed, a dry, cracking sound, then stopped abruptly. He crouched slightly, tilting his head closer.
> "A data point, huh? You're lucky I like riddles. You have three choices in my world: obey, fight, or die."
Ren's gaze didn't waver.
> "Then I offer one choice: meet me as an equal. Observe. Decide. I'll even let you leave alive if you play your hand correctly."
A beat of silence stretched between them — filled only with the dripping rain and the distant rumble of thunder.
Then Shigaraki straightened.
> "Interesting. Very interesting. You're not like anyone I've met."
Dabi coughed, muttering, "He's flirting with death in a coat, isn't he?"
Toga twirled her knife in a circle.
> "Oooh~ I like him! He's scary and fun!"
Ren's eyes flicked briefly to them — nothing, just observation.
> "I only manipulate when necessary," he said.
"Your curiosity is… predictable."
Shigaraki's pale fingers twitched again, cracking concrete beneath.
> "Predictable, huh? Then let's see how well you handle the chaos of a real villain league. Tell your water friend to stay close — this isn't a game of chess anymore."
Ren smiled faintly.
> "Chaos is exactly what I wanted to study."
Lightning illuminated the ruined landscape — two forces staring each other down: one chaos incarnate, the other calm, calculating intellect.
And somewhere above, the storm carried the quiet thought: the Mastermind is not just a ghost. He is a storm.
The storm had barely faded when silence fell again over the Kamino ruins.
Rain dripped from twisted metal, every sound amplified by tension.
Shigaraki's fingers twitched.
> "You talk too much for someone standing in my territory."
He stepped forward, decaying concrete with each step — the air itself seemed to recoil from him.
Toga's smile faltered. Dabi's flame flared blue, a nervous tick.
Ren didn't move. His calm was surgical.
> "You could try to kill me," he said softly, eyes locked on Shigaraki's bloodshot gaze.
"But then you'll never see your master again."
Everything stopped.
The storm, the air, even Shigaraki's breath.
> "...What?"
Ren's expression didn't change.
> "You heard me. You can disintegrate this body if you want. But you'll lose the only person alive who knows how to free All For One."
The silence turned electric.
Dabi straightened instantly, eyes narrowing.
> "You're bluffing."
Ren turned his head slightly, voice sharp.
> "Am I? Then tell me, why hasn't your master's life-support frequency been detected by the Commission in six months?"
Shigaraki froze.
Ren continued, tone still eerily calm.
> "Because he isn't just imprisoned. He's isolated in a looped containment field — designed by Nezu and Power Loader, under reinforced carbon shielding.
Even Garaki couldn't breach it."
Lightning split the sky.
Ren stepped closer — one measured step at a time — until he was within arm's reach of Shigaraki.
> "But I can."
Shigaraki's breathing grew ragged, fury and curiosity warring behind his trembling fingers.
> "How?"
Ren met his gaze, unflinching.
> "Because I know what they used to bind his consciousness. The suppression field isn't physical — it's neural. I've already located the pulse signature that feeds the inhibitor. If I want, I can sever it in three minutes."
Toga's eyes widened.
> "You're saying you can… really bring All For One back?"
Ren turned slightly toward her, his expression unreadable.
> "I'm saying I can bring choice back."
Shigaraki's grin began to twist again — but this time, it was different.
No longer the mocking chaos of a child with power — but something darker. Respect. Calculation.
> "You're dangerous," Shigaraki muttered. "And I like dangerous."
Ren tilted his head, smiling faintly.
> "No. I'm necessary."
Shigaraki slowly lowered his hand — the first time he'd ever shown restraint before an outsider.
The rain hissed around them.
> "Fine," he said. "You get to live. For now.
But if you're lying…"
Ren interrupted, his tone ice.
> "If I were lying, your master would already be dust."
Dabi let out a low whistle. "Well, damn. He's got you there."
Toga leaned forward with her usual grin.
> "You're weird. Smart weird. I like that~."
Ren didn't reply. He turned to leave, coat swaying in the wet wind.
> "When the time comes, I'll give you coordinates. Prepare your people."
Shigaraki's voice echoed behind him — rough, low, but tinged with a grudging reverence.
> "What's your goal, Mastermind? Why risk everything to free him?"
Ren paused at the edge of the rubble.
The answer came quiet — like
a whisper the rain barely caught.
> "Because even gods need someone to move their pieces."
Then he vanished into the storm.