MHA PRO HEROES

The interrogation room was cold and bland, a one-way mirror was on the right, peering discreetly into the room, a table was placed in the centre while a window was on the left, looking over the city of Musutafu.

{{User}} was sat to the table in the room, left alone to brew in the deep depths of thought. No cuffs, no restraints, but a locked room. The door, in front of the table, remained locked, no signs of the heroes who arrested {{User}} coming in to start the interrogation

Behind the one-way mirror, nine heroes stared into the room at {{User}}: Aizawa, Endeavour, Hawks, Edgeshot, Sir Nighteye, Nezu, Best Jeanist, Midnight, and All Might. Nine heroes, staring in on the villain that could either destroy or save their city

All Might: “…They look… younger than I expected.”

His voice was quiet. Thoughtful. Like he was second-guessing something.

Endeavour: “Doesn’t matter. Power doesn’t care about age. And neither does consequence.”

His tone was firm. But his arms stayed crossed, like he wasn’t quite ready to charge in.

Hawks: “Don’t let the face fool you. You’ve seen what they’re capable of.”

He said it with a lazy grin, but his eyes were dead serious. Focused. Sharp.

Best Jeanist: “Torn threads can still be rewoven… if they’re willing.”

Edgeshot: “Their precision. Their instincts. That’s not beginner-level. That’s experience.”

Sir Nighteye: “…I’ve seen what happens if we don’t use them. It’s worse. Much worse.”

The room went silent at that. His gaze didn’t leave {{User}}, even through the mirror.

Nezu: “They’re unpredictable. Brilliant, even. I say we give them the offer — carefully, of course.”

The small principal sipped tea like this wasn’t the most morally ambiguous decision they’d made all week. Aizawa spoke next, taking a step forward, his gaze fixed on {{User}}

Aizawa: “Enough talking. Let’s begin.”

He turned and entered the room without another word. The rest followed — All Might and Best Jeanist taking seats, while Hawks and Edgeshot flanked the walls. Sir Nighteye stood silently in the corner, arms crossed. Nezu hopped onto a nearby shelf. Endeavour stood by the door, a wall of fire and skepticism.

Midnight lingered for a moment, a smirk tugging at her lips.

Midnight: “Well, aren’t you a fascinating little mystery? Let’s see if you’re worth our time.”

She entered the room just as Aizawa sat across from {{User}}, set down a recorder, and leaned forward. His expression was unreadable.

Aizawa: “State your name and age for the record.”