The next morning, I arrived at the rehab facility with a strange sense of anticipation. There was something in the air—a shift I couldn't quite place yet. As I stepped into the building, the staff greeted me with a mix of awe and terror. My reputation was working as intended.

Just as I was about to head to the training hall, my phone buzzed. A message from Nezu.

"Please come to my office at your earliest convenience. We have something important to discuss."

Great. That rodent was never one to waste words, which meant this was big. I changed course, heading toward the main building, my curiosity piqued.

As I entered, Nezu greeted me with his usual unnervingly calm smile, a stack of papers neatly arranged on his desk.

"Ah, Midoriya, good morning," he said, gesturing for me to sit.

I plopped into the chair opposite him. "Morning, Nezu. What's up?"

"I've made a decision regarding the upcoming UA Sports Festival," he began, his voice carrying a weight I wasn't used to hearing.

I raised an eyebrow. "The one where all the hero courses show off to the world?"

"Precisely," he confirmed. "This year, the Villain Rehabilitation Program will also participate."

For a moment, I stared at him, waiting for the punchline. When it didn't come, I burst out laughing.

"Wait, you're serious?"

"Entirely," Nezu said, his grin widening. "It's an opportunity to showcase the potential of the program and, by extension, its participants. A chance to redefine public perception."

"Bold move," I admitted, leaning back in my chair. "And let me guess—you want me to prepare them for it."

Nezu chuckled. "Oh, I don't want you to prepare them. I expect you to and I know you already started doing it."

Of course, he did. I sighed, pinching the bridge of my nose. "Fine. But if this goes south—"

"It won't," he interrupted. "I trust you, Midoriya. And more importantly, so do they."

His words hung in the air as I left the office, the weight of the task settling on my shoulders.

The class was already assembled by the time I arrived. Most of them looked like they were still recovering from yesterday's session—good. That meant they were learning.

"Alright, everyone, listen up!" I announced, clapping my hands to get their attention.

Shigaraki glanced up from where he was lazily twirling a pebble in his hand. Dabi leaned against the wall, looking like he'd rather be anywhere else. Toga was perched on a stack of mats, her head tilted in curiosity, and Spinner was in his usual corner, his expression wary.

"I just got word from Nezu," I began, pacing in front of them. "You're all going to be part of this year's UA Sports Festival."

A collective groan rose from the group.

"You're kidding," Dabi drawled, his voice dripping with sarcasm.

"Do I look like I'm joking?" I shot back, locking eyes with him until he looked away. "This isn't optional. You're going to compete, and you're going to win. Or at least, you're going to look damn good trying."

"Why should we care?" Shigaraki muttered, tossing the pebble across the room.

"You shouldn't," I said bluntly, stopping in my tracks. "I don't care if you want to be heroes, villains, or retire to a beach somewhere and sell coconuts. What you do after this program is your business."

They stared at me, their confusion palpable.

"But while you're here," I continued, my tone sharp, "you're going to play into Nezu's hand. You're going to prove that this program works. That you're better than the hero students. And when it's over, you can go back to whatever it is you want to do. But don't even think about messing this up—or me."

A kid in the back raised a hand, a mischievous glint in her eyes. "And if we don't?"

"Then I'll make sure your next training session is worse than anything you've ever imagined," I replied with a cold smile.

Her grin faltered. Good.

Shigaraki leaned forward, his eyes narrowing. "This isn't just about proving something to Nezu, is it?"

I met his gaze evenly. He was sharp, I'd give him that. "What do you think?"

He didn't answer, but the faint smirk tugging at his lips told me he understood. This wasn't just about showing the world that villains could change. It was about control—my control.

I crossed my arms, looking at each of them in turn. "You're going to train harder than you ever have before. You're going to push yourselves past your limits. And you're going to do it because you know what's at stake."

Dabi scoffed. "And what's that, exactly?"

"Your freedom," I said simply. "The better you perform, the more trust you earn. The more trust you earn, the less control they have over you. This isn't about playing nice—it's about taking back power. AND if you all get it right, you can do whatever you want in front of their nose while they don't suspect anything."

They exchanged glances, the weight of my words sinking in.

"So, what's the plan?" Spinner asked hesitantly.

I smirked. "Simple. We're going to crush every hero course in that festival. And by the time we're done, no one will ever look at you the same way again."

Shigaraki's smirk widened, and for the first time, I saw a spark of genuine excitement in his eyes.

"You're insane," Toga said, but there was a hint of admiration in her tone.

"Absolutely," I replied. "Now, let's get to work."

As they reluctantly began to gear up for another grueling session, I couldn't help but feel a flicker of pride. They didn't realize it yet, but they were already changing. And when the festival came, the world was going to see just how much.

The game was on, and I was going to make sure we played it better than anyone else.