The first roar of flames split the night.
Endeavor landed on the rooftop opposite Ren, wings of fire flaring, heat rippling through the air. His eyes burned with a mix of rage and disbelief.
> "You!" he shouted, voice booming. "You think you can manipulate heroes and villains alike without consequence?!"
Ren turned slowly, one foot on the pillar's edge, cloak fluttering behind him. His red-lensed mask reflected the orange firelight. Calm. Calculating.
> "I don't think, Endeavor. I know," Ren said evenly. "And right now, you're in my way."
Endeavor's flames surged forward, trailing sparks like a comet. He aimed directly at Ren, expecting to incinerate him instantly.
Ren didn't flinch. Instead, he pressed a small button on his wrist. Thin, metallic wires shot outward, whipping through the air like living snakes. They absorbed the heat, diverted the trajectory of the flames, and anchored to nearby pillars.
> "Predictable," Ren murmured, stepping lightly along the edge of the pillar. His boots hissed as springs launched him upward, above the trajectory of Endeavor's next assault.
Flames licked at his heels, but he moved faster than Endeavor could anticipate. Every motion was deliberate — calculated to exploit even the greatest hero's instincts.
Endeavor's frustration grew. He blasted a wave of fire downward, the rooftop melting, metal groaning under the heat.
> "You can't dodge forever! I will burn you!"
Ren landed gracefully on a higher pillar, wires retracting and coiling at his sides. His voice carried through a modulated speaker on his mask.
> "I don't need to dodge forever, Endeavor. I just need you to make the first mistake."
Endeavor clenched his fists, flames twisting into a giant dragon-like projection above him.
Ren's red lenses tracked every flicker of muscle, every spark, every breath. In an instant, he activated a network of small EMP darts hidden along the wires, cutting off nearby electric support devices that Endeavor could have used to scan or anticipate him.
> "See?" Ren said, voice calm, almost taunting. "Even your fire has limits. Your fury… even more."
Endeavor's roar turned into a grunt of surprise as Ren dropped from above, wires wrapping around pillars to swing behind him. Ren's palm extended — the thin, metallic wires shot forward like whips, striking precise points along Endeavor's armor, throwing him off balance just enough.
Ren's red-lensed eyes gleamed behind the mask.
> "I don't fight heroes with fists," he said softly. "I fight them with their own mistakes."
Endeavor stumbled slightly, flames sputtering as he realized he was no longer in complete control. Ren stood above him, calm, composed, smiling faintly under the mask — a predator observing a lion confused in its own den.
> "Now, Endeavor," Ren whispered.
"You can choose: keep chasing me, or step aside while I fix this world."
The fire roared around them, reflecting off the metallic wires coiling like living snakes, and for the first time, Endeavor felt the e
dge of fear. Not from the flames — from the mind behind them.
The city streets below glimmered faintly in the moonlight. Smoke curled from broken roofs; shadows danced across abandoned buildings.
Ren stood atop the highest pillar, cloak flowing, his full hero gear gleaming. The thin metallic wires coiled at his wrists, spring-loaded boots compressed, lenses scanning every movement — every heartbeat — within hundreds of meters.
> "25%," he whispered to himself, voice modulated. "Just enough to show the difference between thinking and reacting."
Endeavor roared, flames erupting around him like a living storm, heat warping the air. He charged, aiming to crush Ren with the full weight of his fire.
Ren's boots compressed and released in a single leap — a human projectile shooting skyward. The wires launched ahead, wrapping around nearby structures, forming a deadly lattice of traps and projections.
> "Predictable," Ren muttered, activating the first layer of his quirk.
His mind processed every possibility:
Endeavor's next step? Calculated.
Heat waves and flame projections? Diverted by metallic wires.
Escape routes? Already secured by retractable hooks and energy-absorbent pads.
Hero allies approaching? Tracked, logged, prioritized.
Even at 25%, his quirk let him anticipate patterns, calculate angles, and predict reactions in real time. Endeavor swung, fire tearing through the lattice — but each strand absorbed, redirected, or restrained the attack.
Ren dropped behind Endeavor in a single, fluid motion.
> "You rely on power," he said softly. "I rely on outthinking it."
The wires extended like living serpents, wrapping around Endeavor's boots, tethering him just enough to destabilize him without injury. Metallic nails extended from Ren's gloves, cutting precise arcs in the air to deflect incoming fire while keeping him mobile.
He activated the lenses' special vision modes: heat signatures, structural weaknesses, trajectory prediction. Each blink calculated dozens of variables simultaneously.
> "You see, Endeavor," he whispered, standing a foot above the hero, boots barely touching the pillar, cloak shifting, "I don't need to match your strength. I just need to control the flow of your choices."
Endeavor's flames roared, twisting into a dragon-like assault. Ren's wires slashed through it, redirecting fire harmlessly into the walls of a deserted building. He leapt again, spring-boot launching him higher, wires snapping into nearby structures to swing, pivot, and avoid.
> "This is only 25% of what I can do," Ren said, voice calm, almost taunting, as he dropped back to a pillar behind Endeavor.
"Imagine what happens when I reach 50… or 100."
Even from above, he could see Endeavor struggling — not from exhaustion, but from the mental edge Ren held. Every attack predicted, every escape calculated, every reaction manipulated.
Ren flexed his metallic nails, wires coiling like serpents ready to strike. The city below, the moon above, the battlefield stretched wide.
And in that moment, even Endeavor — Japan's #1 hero — realized he was not facing j
ust a villain.
He was facing a mind designed to win.
The wind howled around the ruined rooftops as flames danced, licking the edges of the crumbling concrete. Endeavor roared, wings of fire whipping through the night air, heat melting metal and scorching stone.
Ren stood several meters above, perched on a jagged pillar, his red-lensed mask scanning every movement.
He had already calculated:
The angle of the pillar array.
Endeavor's average stride and jump trajectory.
Wind resistance and fire heat diffusion.
Wire tension and tensile limits.
> "Just one variable left," Ren muttered under his breath.
He activated a thin metallic wire from his wrist, extending it with surgical precision. In his mind, the formula ran — vectors, angles, force calculations — dozens of equations blinking through his consciousness simultaneously.
The wire shot outward. It moved faster than Endeavor's eye could track, slicing the air like a blade of silver. The endpoint anchored to a steel beam on the opposite side of the street.
Endeavor charged, flames blazing — and then the wire pulled taut.
> "Hah!" Ren whispered, adjusting the tension with his gear.
The wire yanked with perfect force, swinging around Endeavor and twisting him midair like a mosquito caught in a spiderweb. He thrashed, flames flaring in panic, but the wire held firm — flexible yet unbreakable, calculated to withstand his strength.
Ren dropped to a lower pillar, coiling more wires in every direction.
> "Every escape route… closed. Every angle… accounted for."
Endeavor struggled, flames scorching the wires, but each movement was already predicted.
> "You rely on fire," Ren said softly, voice calm, almost amused.
"I rely on math. And mathematics… always wins."
From above, he adjusted the tension, pulling Endeavor in a perfect arc toward the center of the makeshift wire web. The hero twisted, spat flames in frustration, but each action only tightened the trap.
Ren crouched lightly on the pillar, wires glinting in the moonlight.
> "It's not about overpowering you," he said.
"It's about making sure you can't overpower me."
And there, suspended like prey in a web of steel and strategy, even Endeavor — the blazing #1 hero — realized he was trapped not by strength… but by a mind that thought faster than fire itself.
Endeavor thrashed, trapped midair in the metallic wire web, flames licking at the steel strands but unable to break free. The heat warped the air, but Ren remained calm, crouched on his pillar like a predator watching its prey.
> "Riptide," Ren's voice crackled through the comm.
From the shadows below, Riptide stepped forward, water coalescing around his hands, shimmering like quicksilver.
> "Ready," Riptide replied.
Ren's red-lensed mask scanned Endeavor's position. Calculating angles, vectors, and force, he gave a single command.
> "Apply gentle pressure to the top and back — keep him suspended, disoriented. Do not harm him."
Riptide's quirk responded instantly. A thin, almost invisible jet of water shot upward from below Endeavor, pressure calibrated to counteract the flames and weight, holding him perfectly balanced midair. Another jet hit from behind, forcing him into a slight tilt — exactly as Ren predicted.
Endeavor's eyes widened, flames sputtering as the combination of wire tension and precise water streams destabilized him. He swung his arms wildly, but each movement only tightened the trap.
> "You see, Endeavor," Ren said softly, voice calm over the chaos,
"fire can burn, but it can also be redirected. Strength can intimidate, but precision controls."
Riptide adjusted instantly at Ren's silent commands, water bending like a living weapon. The #1 hero was caught in perfect suspension, unable to strike or escape without throwing himself off balance.
Ren crouched, analyzing the hero's every twitch, every breath.
> "This," he murmured, "is only 25% of what we can do. The rest… is the lesson."
Endeavor's roar filled the night, flames surging with frustration, but Ren's calm red-lensed gaze never wavered. Every move he could make had already been predicted — every reaction accounted for.
> "Riptide," Ren said, voice almost casual,
"prepare to escalate. Keep him disoriented, and let's see how heroes handle when their strongest burns in a controlled storm."
Water and wire danced in perfect harmony, bending the hero's power against him — the battlefield a deadly symphony orchestrated entirely by Mastermind.
And from his pillar, Ren watched, smiling faintly. Every heartbeat, every spark of fire, e
very movement was exactly as he calculated.
Endeavor struggled, suspended midair, flames sputtering as the thin metallic wires held him like a puppet. Riptide's water jets bent around him, keeping his balance precarious, every muscle tensed against the pressure.
Ren crouched on his pillar, fingers flexing over the wire network. His lenses glowed red as he calculated angles, tension, and conductivity in real time.
> "Riptide," he commanded through the comms, voice calm, precise,
"Inject current. Start low. Focus it along the water streams attached to the wires. Keep him alive — just uncomfortable enough to destabilize."
Water shimmered like quicksilver. A faint hum ran through the metal wires. Then — a controlled pulse of electricity surged, traveling through the wet strands, along the conductive metallic web that wrapped around Endeavor.
The hero's flames flickered, sputtered, sparks dancing in the air. He tried to roar, tried to break free, but every movement only tightened the trap, sending another calculated pulse of current along the wet path.
> "Pain isn't the weapon here," Ren whispered under his mask,
"control is."
Endeavor's eyes widened — the shock didn't burn him, but it disrupted his balance, his concentration, even his instincts. Each pulse made him overcompensate, fighting against the current of his own power.
Ren adjusted another wire, calculating voltage, water flow, and Endeavor's projected muscle reactions. Another pulse, another twist, another tiny step closer to submission.
> "You think power is everything," Ren said softly, red lenses gleaming,
"but the strongest hero can be rendered helpless if the battlefield itself is your weapon."
From above, Ren flexed his gloves. The wires coiled like living serpents, the water streams bending perfectly to conduct the pulse.
Endeavor's flames roared, but the logic of the attack was unstoppable. Every motion, every surge of energy, every breath — all predicted, all accounted for.
> "This is only 25% of my quirk," Ren said quietly,
"and even at this fraction… the so-called strongest hero is at my mercy."
Riptide's water bent obediently to the current, wires glinting, arcs of electricity tracing the air, as Ren stood atop the pillar like a ghost watching a lion struggle in a net of his own making.
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