After lunch, we returned to the classroom.

Everyone looked calm on the outside—like good, well-adjusted hero students—but the energy? Tense. Suspicious. Way too many glances exchanged in two-second bursts. People were pairing up with their assigned partners and staring them down like they were planning to share secrets... or stab each other mid-mission.

Aizawa stood at the front, arms crossed, coffee in hand, looking like he regretted waking up today.

"We'll begin the simulation," he said flatly. "Each pair will be sent to Ground Beta. There, you'll receive a sealed note with your role: Hero or Villain. You are not to reveal this role to anyone—not even your partner."

A pause.

"And remember, roles will rotate throughout the coming weeks. No one stays a villain forever."

Another pause.

His eyes slid toward Bakugo.

"...In theory."

Bakugo rolled his eyes. Kaminari laughed awkwardly. Nobody else did.

I glanced at Izuku.

His smile was small and composed, eyes bright and innocent.

We already knew our role. We knew it the second Nezu muttered "war game" and Izuku started connecting invisible dots faster than I could say psychological warfare.

They called us last.

"Midoriya. Todoroki. You're up."

We walked into Ground Beta together. The sun hung low over the fake city skyline, painting the buildings in a warm glow. The air was sharp and still.

A UA staff member handed us our sealed note. Izuku took it with polite hands. Broke the seal with calm fingers. Unfolded it like he hadn't already memorized every word before the simulation even began.

He showed me the paper, low and out of sight.

Role: VILLAIN.

He tucked it into his sleeve and whispered without looking at me.

"They all think they got the note early."

I blinked. "What?"

He smirked. "I asked around. Just subtle stuff. Little questions. 'Did you figure it out yet?' 'Pretty obvious who got it, right?' Most of them think they were chosen to get an early head start."

My brow furrowed.

"They're walking into this with one eye closed."

He turned to me, soft voice still deadly quiet.

"But we? We're walking in with night vision."

I stared out at the city.

Glass towers, fake alleyways, vehicles that wouldn't run but looked real enough. It was like a perfect little sandbox made to simulate heroics.

But we weren't here to save anything.

We were here to ruin everything.

I felt the paper in my pocket.

Villain.

Of course.

Izuku's voice brushed next to me again, softer now.

"Let's make them think we're not playing the game... until they realize we made it."

The simulation had started.

The clock was ticking. Twenty minutes in, no contact. Not a single hero team had found us yet.

We didn't hide. We didn't need to.

Midoriya and I stood on the roof of a fake office building, watching the maze-like city unfold below us.

He knelt beside the building's emergency panel and casually rewired a couple of circuits. The lights in the alley down below flickered twice—then turned red. His signal. A trap was set.

"I'm surprised no one found us yet," I muttered.

"They're wasting time second-guessing their own partners," he said without looking up. "We didn't give them a target. They're looking for an answer that's not in the question."

I frowned. "So... we're just ghosts in a ghost town?"

Midoriya gave me a side-smile. "For now."

We were quiet again.

A drone passed overhead. We ducked. It flew by harmlessly. No alarms.

He watched it.

Then tilted his head.

"Shoto."

That tone. The one that meant he was thinking something insane but probably correct.

"What?"

"This building," he said, standing and brushing off his knees. "It's designed exactly like UA's old tech admin hall, right?"

I looked at the windows. The hallway layout. The glass panels leading into what looked like a control room replica.

"...You're right."

"No one said we couldn't go into the control wing."

"Are you saying we walk into the observation room?" I asked, deadpan.

"I'm saying if they didn't lock it off... it's not cheating."

I blinked.

"We're already villains," he added with a shrug. "Why not spy like villains too?"

He pointed to a nearby side building marked "Command." It was subtle—out of the way. Maybe designed as a trap, or a mid-mission target.

But Midoriya had a theory.

Midoriya always had a theory.

I looked at the city again.

"This might actually be the control building."

He nodded. "Let's find out."

Five minutes later, we were crouching beside the back entrance. The "Command" building's rear door had a faulty sensor. Midoriya waved a magnet keycard he lifted from a dummy security panel earlier. It beeped once. Unlocked.

I looked at him.

"I'm not asking why you knew to do that."

"I'm not telling," he replied cheerfully.

Inside, the air was colder. The lights were functional, but dimmer than the rest of the sim zone. We stepped down a hallway and turned the corner—only to find a large room lined with screens, data panels, and an empty row of observation chairs.

We had found the real observer room.

The one the teachers were using.

They weren't there—yet. Maybe out monitoring teams on foot. Maybe watching elsewhere. But the gear was still on. Monitors live. Audio channels open.

Midoriya walked in like he belonged there.

"I want to see how they're watching us."

I followed, slower. Still stunned.

He tapped on one of the monitors. "This is what they're seeing. They think we're playing tag in the alleys."

I stared at the room. The cameras. The tech.

"...This isn't part of the test."

"Exactly," he said, eyes gleaming. "So when we win from in here—they'll never see it coming."

The lights in the observation room hummed low as Izuku tapped away at the console, eyes scanning lines of code like he was reading bedtime stories.

"Camera loop confirmed," he muttered. "Audio still transmitting. They haven't switched over to silent mode, which means the teachers are probably monitoring the general feed instead of micromanaging."

I leaned over his shoulder. "You're saying they're watching the simulation from outside?"

"Yep," he chirped. "Which means we have more access to the inside than they do right now."

I raised an eyebrow. "Midoriya, we're villains. This is villain behavior."

He grinned. "No, no, this is gray area exploration. Aizawa-sensei said nothing about where villains had to operate from."

He flicked a switch, and one of the live feeds changed angles—giving us a perfect view of Kaminari chasing a trash can that he mistook for movement. "...And besides, I'm trying to help."

"You're causing chaos."

"That is helping," he replied.

I sighed.

Then we both froze.

Click.

The door behind us opened.

Nezu stepped in first—perched on a metal railing like he'd always been there, watching. His paws were folded. His smile was the kind you saw right before a chessboard flipped.

Power Loader followed with a wrench in one hand and a look like someone just stuck gum in his engine.

"Well, well, well," Nezu chirped, eyes gleaming. "Look what the mice dragged in."

Izuku straightened. "Technically, we were never told this room was off-limits."

Nezu tilted his head.

Izuku pressed on, hands moving calmly but deliberately. "We're not disrupting the feed. We're not altering team assignments. We haven't tampered with any of the core systems. All I did was loop a few camera views in Ground Beta and check how the monitoring system works. As a learning experience."

He smiled sweetly. I blinked in disbelief.

Nezu blinked back. Then cackled.

"Ohhh, how delightfully crafty!" he beamed. "You're absolutely right. You were never explicitly told not to come in here. Which makes your actions... legally ambiguous but morally fascinating."

Power Loader groaned. "Nezu. No. They're gonna touch something and fry the entire sim."

Izuku put his hands up. "I swear on my support gear, I'm not sabotaging anything."

"You looped cameras." Power Loader looked one step away from a breakdown. "That's literally sabotage!"

"For educational purposes," Izuku added quickly. "Also, technically still within villain role parameters."

Nezu spun on the railing like a ballerina. "I love this."

I coughed. "We can leave, if it's a problem."

But Nezu waved a tiny paw.

"No no. You found our second command room. It's meant for backup operation, not student access, but... the fact that you infiltrated it? Without a single alert triggering? That's impressive."

"I told you this layout was suspicious," I muttered.

Nezu beamed at me.

Power Loader groaned louder.

Nezu turned to him. "We'll allow them to stay. But under your supervision."

Power Loader stared like someone had stabbed him with a rusty screwdriver. "You're joking."

"Do I look like I'm joking?" Nezu asked sweetly.

Power Loader grumbled something about "teenagers with god complexes" and walked over to check the control board.

"If either of you touches the thermal grid, I'm ejecting you from the building."

Izuku immediately retracted his hand from the thermal grid.

"Understood," I said calmly.

Nezu gave a little clap. "Wonderful! Enjoy your... villainy~"

He vanished out the door with suspiciously perfect timing.

Leaving us with Power Loader's suspicious glare.

Izuku leaned toward me, whispering, "See? Not technically cheating."

I whispered back, "We are one misstep away from being electrocuted."

Izuku grinned. "Worth it."