Aizawa set the coffee cup down with the slow, deliberate energy of a man who had just watched his soul leave his body through a camera feed.

"No," he said, voice low. Final. Dead.

Midoriya paused mid-maniacal laugh. Power Loader blinked. I leaned slightly away in case Eraser Head activated his Quirk and decided I was the next casualty.

"There isn't going to be another student dropping," Aizawa continued. "I'm shutting this down before someone gets emotionally—or physically—obliterated."

Midoriya tilted his head. "Technically, Kaminari is fine. He's... just unconscious."

"Kaminari was duct-taped to a lamp post and used as bait," Aizawa snapped.

"Strategic bait," Midoriya corrected.

Aizawa looked to Power Loader. "Cut the bots. Kill the program. Hard reset."

Power Loader hesitated, fingers hovering above the controls. "You sure? I mean, we're just getting to the part where Jirou's eardrums almost blow out a support beam—"

"Reset it."

Midoriya made a small, wounded noise, like a villain whose plan had been foiled by common sense and a tired adult.

"But we didn't even get to the part where Mineta gets rolled over by a cleaning droid," he mumbled.

I side-eyed him. "You planned that?"

"I didn't plan it. I just... encouraged it to happen naturally."

Aizawa pinched the bridge of his nose so hard I was pretty sure I heard cartilage shift. "Midoriya."

"Yes, sensei?"

"No more hacking the training system."

"Define 'hacking,'" Midoriya said without blinking.

Power Loader helpfully added, "He technically didn't hack anything. Just... manipulated some very vulnerable admin settings."

"YOU GAVE HIM ACCESS!" Aizawa groaned.

"I THOUGHT HE WAS JUST CURIOUS!"

"HE'S MIDORIYA! OF COURSE HE'S NEVER JUST CURIOUS!"

"I'm right here," Midoriya pointed out, hand raised.

Aizawa stood up and looked at the monitor one last time as it faded to black—Jirou's scream attack halfway through causing a training bot to combust dramatically in the background.

"You've terrorized them enough," he muttered.

"Character building," Midoriya whispered.

"Todoroki," Aizawa turned to me, face gaunt with stress, "get him out of here. Lock him in a study room. I don't care. Just don't let him near any tech."

I gave a slight shrug. "No promises."

Midoriya turned his chair slowly, dramatically, eyes gleaming. "They haven't learned yet. We were doing them a favor—showing them the truth."

Aizawa sighed so hard I think the lights flickered.

"Midoriya," he said flatly, "you are never allowed near Ground Beta again without adult supervision and a twelve-page written apology."

Midoriya held up a finger. "Single or double spaced?"

"Both."

Power Loader leaned forward, still watching the fading screens. "But for real, that was fun."

"I'm confiscating all of your coffee machines," Aizawa said and turned to leave but stopped, turned around and started staring at Izuku.

Stared.

The kind of stare that could silence a room. End a war. Kill a man.

And Izuku? He calmly turned back to the screens like Aizawa hadn't just threatened to obliterate him with sheer exhaustion-fueled dad energy.

"I'm not stopping," Midoriya said, voice low and disturbingly cheerful. "The whole class is a tactical mess, the war game is broken, and frankly, sir, you should be thanking me."

Aizawa exhaled through his nose. Slowly. Painfully.

"Fine," he muttered, eyes dead. "Fine. Nezu gave you clearance, right? Fine. Blow the place up for all I care."

And with that, he turned and left the control room.

Door clicked shut.

Silence.

Power Loader gawked. "Did he just—?"

"I think he did," I said, a little stunned.

"I'm still here," Aizawa's voice called flatly through the door.

"Oh," Midoriya said with a grin, "then can I get some coffee?"

"No."

And then we were alone again.

Midoriya stretched, rolled his neck, and activated another wave of training bots on hard mode. He leaned in toward the monitors like a movie villain watching his chaos unfold.

I was beginning to think he was actually enjoying this.

"...Why are we friends?" I muttered.

Midoriya just smirked, eyes glowing as he clicked into another control setting. "Because you love this."

He wasn't wrong.

But then—

SLAM.

The door burst back open, hitting the wall so hard Power Loader flinched like he'd witnessed a crime.

Aizawa stormed back in, rage barely contained behind his sleep-deprived eyes. "No. No, I thought I could walk it off, but I was wrong."

Midoriya didn't even flinch. "Told you to get coffee."

"You're done, Midoriya."

"What? No I'm not. I still have a full thirty minutes of villain time left. Legally speaking."

Aizawa marched across the room, full scarf-mode activated, shadows under his eyes darkening with every step. "Nezu's a menace, and you're a smaller menace with Wi-Fi. I'm putting an end to this."

Power Loader tried to step in. "Now, now, technically—"

"I don't want to hear it," Aizawa snapped.

Then he grabbed Midoriya by the back of the collar, like a cat hauling a gremlin kitten away from a crime scene.

Midoriya flailed slightly but still managed to shout back, "Shoto! You have access! Go full villain! Be evil in my name!"

"Don't encourage him!" Power Loader yelled after them.

Aizawa turned at the door, dragging Izuku halfway out already. "Todoroki."

"Yes, sir?" I asked, straightening up.

"You're the sole villain now."

"...I see."

Midoriya gave me a thumbs up while being hauled out like a misbehaving toddler. "Make it count!"

Then the door slammed again, cutting off whatever sarcastic final comment he had lined up.

I sat back slowly, alone in the quiet control room.

Me.

One villain.

One simulation.

And all of Class 1-A to terrorize.

I cracked my knuckles.

"...Showtime."