The morning sun streamed through the tall windows of Class 1-A. Students shuffled into the room, chatting about the aftermath of the recent chaos, rumors of VEGA spreading like wildfire.
Ren slipped in quietly, mask removed, blending perfectly among the students. His red-lensed mask and cloak were safely hidden in his bag. He sat in the back corner, notebook open, pen poised, expression calm — almost bored.
Midoriya glanced at him curiously.
> "Hey… I didn't see you at the assembly yesterday. Were you… fighting somewhere?"
Ren smirked faintly, head tilted as if considering whether to answer.
> "Nah, I was… busy," he said casually. No hint of menace or intelligence beyond a regular student.
Bakugo scoffed.
> "Hmph. Lucky bastard. I had to deal with all the hero talk."
Ren's eyes flicked toward the window. Outside, the city was still on edge — heroes searching for Mastermind, villains scrambling, chaos barely controlled. And yet, here he sat, unnoticed, unnoticed, untouchable.
Aizawa entered, sharp gaze scanning the room.
> "Settle down. You've got training today."
Ren nodded politely, pulling out his notebook and pen. But inside, his mind was already calculating, planning the next moves of VEGA, estimating probabilities of hero movements, predicting where leaks might appear in the hero commission.
Even while pretending to take notes on class material, he mapped escape routes, communication channels, and contingencies for every VEGA member.
> They think I'm just a student, Ren thought, a faint smirk tugging at his lips.
Little do they know… the world is already under my control.
As the bell rang, Ren's gaze briefly flicked to Todoroki, who sat quietly nearby. A faint nod passed between them — a silent acknowledgment that everything was proceeding as planned.
The class began, discussions and exercises unfolding normally. But beneath the surface, Ren's mind ran a different game entirely — one that no hero, no teacher, and no villain could ever predict.
And somewhere in the back of the room, as students scrambled to answer questions and take notes, Ren's faint, almost imperceptible gri
n lingered.
The classroom buzzed with chatter as Aizawa prepared the lesson.
Ren raised his hand slowly, calm, controlled. His eyes behind his glasses were sharp, calculating every reaction.
> "Excuse me," he said politely, voice even.
"What kind of test will it be? Combat, strategy, or quirk-based evaluation?"
The room went slightly quiet. Even Todoroki glanced at him, curious.
Aizawa's tired eyes flicked toward him.
> "It'll be a standard assessment. You'll need to demonstrate teamwork, quirk control, and adaptability."
Ren's fingers drummed lightly on his desk. He nodded thoughtfully.
> "I see. So, it's testing decision-making under pressure as much as raw power."
The other students exchanged glances — Midoriya scribbled furiously in his notebook, analyzing the situation, while Bakugo snorted, muttering under his breath.
Ren's gaze briefly flicked to the window.
> Perfect. A live simulation of unpredictability.
Inside, his mind was already running through probabilities. Which students would act impulsively? Who would follow strategy? How would this test affect teamwork dynamics? Every detail, every quirk, every potential outcome — he mapped it all before the bell had even rung.
He smiled faintly, almost imperceptibly.
> Another opportunity. Another chance to calculate. And they don't even know the game has begun.
As Aizawa handed out the test instructions, Ren's mind had already anticipated each student's move, each potential conflict, and each advantage he could exploit — all while sitting innocently in the back of the class.
The VEGA base was quiet, dimly lit by scattered monitors and the soft glow of the moon through broken windows. Machines hummed, wires coiled along the walls, and the faint smell of smoke lingered — the aftermath of previous missions.
Ren stepped in, removing his jacket and loosening the straps of his hero suit. His boots echoed lightly on the metal floor as he approached Dabi, who was casually leaning against a wall, blue flames flickering weakly from his fingertips.
> "Hey, Dabi," Ren said casually, hands in pockets.
"Want to get stronger?"
Dabi's gaze lifted, a smirk forming on his face.
> "Stronger? You mean like… more flames or something?"
Ren shook his head slightly, walking closer, voice calm, almost conspiratorial.
> "Not just that. Strength isn't about raw power. It's about knowing when, where, and how to use it. Precision, timing, control. I can help you refine it."
Dabi's flames pulsed, hotter, as he studied Ren.
> "You… think you can teach me that?"
Ren smiled faintly, red lenses reflecting the flickering light.
> "I can. But it's not just about you. It's about us — VEGA. Every member needs to reach their peak. One weak link could ruin the plan."
> "So… what's first?" Dabi asked, interest piqued despite himself.
Ren's smile widened ever so slightly.
> "First, understanding your limits. Then, learning to break them. We'll start with controlled combat exercises, tactical scenarios… and then I'll show you something that will change the way you fight forever."
Dabi tilted his head, intrigued, flames dancing brighter now.
> "Huh. Guess I can stick around. But don't think I'll go easy on you."
Ren chuckled softly, almost lightly maniacal.
> "I wouldn't want you to. Remember — it's not just about raw power. Strength is knowing exactly what to do when chaos hits… and that's something even heroes never learn."
As the two moved toward the training area, the hum of monitors and soft clatter of machinery filled the base. Ren's mind was already calculating the perfect progression — every sparring session, every challenge, every quirk manipulation.
> By the time we're done, Dabi… you won't just be strong. You'll be unstoppable.
The VEGA base was quiet, dimly lit by scattered monitors and the soft glow of the moon through broken windows. Machines hummed, wires coiled along the walls, and the faint smell of smoke lingered — the aftermath of previous missions.
Ren stepped in, removing his jacket and loosening the straps of his hero suit. His boots echoed lightly on the metal floor as he approached Dabi, who was casually leaning against a wall, blue flames flickering weakly from his fingertips.
> "Hey, Dabi," Ren said casually, hands in pockets.
"Want to get stronger?"
Dabi's gaze lifted, a smirk forming on his face.
> "Stronger? You mean like… more flames or something?"
Ren shook his head slightly, walking closer, voice calm, almost conspiratorial.
> "Not just that. Strength isn't about raw power. It's about knowing when, where, and how to use it. Precision, timing, control. I can help you refine it."
Dabi's flames pulsed, hotter, as he studied Ren.
> "You… think you can teach me that?"
Ren smiled faintly, red lenses reflecting the flickering light.
> "I can. But it's not just about you. It's about us — VEGA. Every member needs to reach their peak. One weak link could ruin the plan."
> "So… what's first?" Dabi asked, interest piqued despite himself.
Ren's smile widened ever so slightly.
> "First, understanding your limits. Then, learning to break them. We'll start with controlled combat exercises, tactical scenarios… and then I'll show you something that will change the way you fight forever."
Dabi tilted his head, intrigued, flames dancing brighter now.
> "Huh. Guess I can stick around. But don't think I'll go easy on you."
Ren chuckled softly, almost lightly maniacal.
> "I wouldn't want you to. Remember — it's not just about raw power. Strength is knowing exactly what to do when chaos hits… and that's something even heroes never learn."
As the two moved toward the training area, the hum of monitors and soft clatter of machinery filled the base. Ren's mind was already calculating the perfect progression — every sparring session, every challenge, every quirk manipulation.
> By the time we're done, Dabi… you won't just be strong. You'll be unstoppable.
The training room was dark except for the faint hum of the ceiling lights.
Dabi stood across from Ren, his hands glowing faint blue, smoke curling off his palms.
Ren, meanwhile, stood perfectly still — coat swaying slightly in the warm air.
> "Take a small fire," Ren said quietly, extending his hand, index finger pointing forward.
"Just a flicker. Not an inferno."
Dabi frowned but obeyed, a small spark igniting at the tip of his finger.
The blue flame burned, wild and unstable — its heat sharp, impatient.
Ren studied it carefully, then snapped his fingers. A faint current of air brushed past, and the flame steadied.
> "See?" Ren said, tone even. "Power isn't in size. It's in control. A small flame, perfectly focused, can pierce through anything. While a large one… burns out fast."
Dabi watched the small flame dance. His hand trembled slightly, trying to keep it from flaring too much.
> "It's harder than it looks," he muttered.
Ren stepped closer, the faint glow reflecting off his mask lenses.
> "That's because you're still fighting your quirk. Stop fighting it — understand it. Every molecule of heat, every flicker. Make it obey you."
He raised his own finger. A tiny electric spark snapped between the metal rings of his glove — precise, sharp, beautiful.
> "See this? Control. Not strength. I can run a hundred volts through a wire and it won't burn, because I decide what happens."
Dabi smirked faintly.
> "You talk like a scientist."
Ren chuckled quietly.
> "No. I talk like a god who learned science."
For a moment, silence filled the room — only the faint crackle of Dabi's flame and the low hum of the machines remained.
Ren turned, walking toward the control console.
> "Train until you can keep that small fire steady for ten minutes. When you can do that, I'll show you the next step — how to weaponize control itself."
Dabi stared at the flickering flame, determination lighting his eyes.
> Ten minutes, huh? he thought. Fine. Let's see how far I can push it.
Behind him, Ren watched silently, eyes glowing faintly.
> Good… learn to
control your chaos, Dabi. You'll need it for what's coming next.
The training room hummed. Monitors along the walls displayed thermal readouts and waveform traces; Mei's prototype sensors ticked as they measured every microsecond of Dabi's output.
Ren stood beside the console, fingers hovering over the controls.
> "Keep that small flame steady," he said. "Now we'll increase heat in controlled increments. Focus on shape first, then core."
Dabi's jaw clenched. He curled his fingers and pushed. The blue flicker grew — from a fingertip ember to a steady candle. The thermal graph crept upward in neat steps.
Step 1 — Micro-bursts
Ren nodded. "Short, precise bursts. Three quick pulses, then off. Don't let it cascade."
Dabi fired three tiny jets; each one precise. The sensors logged perfect spikes and full recovery between bursts.
Ren's voice: "Good. Recovery is your friend."
Step 2 — Sustained Core
"Hold it for twenty seconds," Ren instructed. "Keep the core stable; don't let the periphery flare."
Dabi focused — breath shallow, muscles tight. The flame thickened, blue and furious, yet contained. The readout showed a steady plateau. Sweat trickled down Dabi's temple. "This feels… different," he rasped. "Like I can feel every molecule."
Ren's reply: "Then listen to them."
Step 3 — Shape Control
Ren tapped the console; a projected target appeared — a narrow slit of steel. "Now compress it. Narrow the flame into a ribbon."
Dabi adjusted his wrist, angling the flame. The blue shifted from a spreading cone to a focused streak that sang as it cut a clean line across the steel. Mei whooped softly at the data. "That's beautiful!"
Step 4 — Heat Gradient
Ren raised a finger, motioning. "Add heat from center to edge. Gradient control — so the tip is hottest while the base stays cool."
Dabi gritted his teeth and pushed. The thermal map bloomed like a live core: hottest at the tip, tapering toward the palm. "Feels unstable," he whispered. Ren's voice stayed steady: "Stability is training. You create it."
Step 5 — Overpressure & Recovery
"Now spike," Ren said. "One second. Full output. Then drop to baseline immediately."
Dabi answered with a furious surge — a roar of blue that brightened the room — then cut himself off, collapsing to one knee, lungs burning. The console showed a perfect spike and controlled fall. Ren didn't flinch. "You bled but you didn't burn out. That's progress."
Step 6 — Integrated Control (Weaponization)
Ren stepped close, voice low. "Channel through the claws. Let mechanics take stress; you keep precision." He clipped a conductive sheath on Dabi's glove — Mei's addition — to focus output.
Dabi channeled; the flame narrowed into a lance of raw heat that bent slightly to Ren's gestured angle. It seared a pilot groove into a test plate without melting the mounting bracket.
Ren smiled, a small, satisfied thing. "Now you can burn where you want — not everywhere."
---
Dabi staggered back, breathing hard, grin forced and real.
> "You actually made me care about finesse," he said, voice rough.
Ren's masked face tilted. "Finesse is amplification. When you control the burn, you don't just destroy — you direct. That's power with purpose."
Ren keyed a logger. Thermal curves and control-read metrics filled the screen — clean, scannable, repeatable.
> "Ten minutes baseline next session," Ren said. "Then we increase window time and lower recovery gaps. After that… we'll test coordination with Riptide. Fire-and-water coupling is a precision art."
Dabi flexed his fingers, flame sputtering into a tiny, obedient spark at his fingertip. He laughed — low, dangerous.
> "Alright, Mastermind. Show me the next trick."
Ren's eyes, behind re
d lenses, gleamed faintly.
The training room's lights dimmed, leaving only the glow of Dabi's flame. Ren stood at the console, red lenses glinting faintly in the flickering blue light.
> "Now," Ren said calmly, "we increase the heat further. Push beyond your comfort zone — but control it. You must keep precision intact."
Dabi's fingertips glimmered blue, then brighter. The heat intensified; the metal floor hissed slightly beneath the air currents. Sweat dripped down his temples, eyes locked on the projected target on the wall.
> "Focus on the core," Ren instructed. "Feel every particle. Don't fight the flame — become its master."
Dabi gritted his teeth. Blue shifted to white-hot, a searing brilliance that made the room tremble. Flames licked upward like hungry serpents.
> "Good… now maintain it. Shape it into a thin, piercing ribbon. Channel the energy through your body without burning yourself."
Minutes passed. Each second stretched like an eternity as Dabi balanced heat and finesse. His vision blurred; every nerve felt like it was on fire.
And then, something extraordinary happened — the tip of the flame flickered violet. Small at first, almost imperceptible, then it spread, a glowing arc that shimmered against the walls.
Ren's voice, calm yet sharp, cut through the heat:
> "There it is. Violet. Not random power. Not chaos. That's controlled extremity. That's precision at maximum output."
Dabi stared at his finger, awe-struck, feeling the intensity without losing control. The violet flame wasn't just hotter — it was refined, deadly, and perfectly shaped.
> "You're ready to test coordination with Riptide," Ren said softly.
"If you can control violet, you can direct destruction without collateral damage. That's what makes you VEGA-level."
Dabi flexed his fingers, violet flame coiling like a living weapon. A grin spread across his face — dangerous, confident, and disciplined.
> "Show me the next step, Mastermind," he said, voice low.
"I'm ready."
Ren nodded, red lenses gleaming faintly under the moonlight filtering through the window.
> Good… this is only t
he beginning. VEGA's fire is just awakening.