The past few weeks have been a blur of chaos, and I'm the maestro conducting this orchestra of madness. I've turned the so-called villains of UA's rehab program into something the world won't be able to ignore—machines forged in fire, honed to perfection, and just a little bit scared of me.

It's not that I enjoy terrifying them. 

Okay, maybe I do a little. 

But come on, they needed it. 

Villains are used to brute strength and blind ambition; 

I'm giving them something more!

I'm turning them into a force that will make UA's little hero brats look like a school play in comparison.

Every morning starts the same way: chaos. 

"Toga, you think you're fast? Guess again. Blindfold on. Let's see how you navigate that maze without your precious eyes." 

"Dabi, your flames are impressive, but they're nothing if you can't control them. Heat on full, aim for the targets, and no, you don't get to stop when your arms feel like jelly." 

"Spinner, stop sulking! You're doing the combat drills until you stop hesitating and start hitting like you mean it. I don't care if you 'don't feel like a villain anymore.' Start acting like someone who knows how to throw a punch." 

Shigaraki? 

Oh, he gets the VIP treatment. 

Every moment of his quirk-suppressed training is meticulously designed by yours truly. 

Hand-to-hand combat, reflex drills, endurance runs—it's brutal, but necessary. I've turned him into a weapon even without Decay, and he knows it.

There's a special satisfaction in watching them crawl to the showers at the end of each session. They groan, they complain, but deep down, they know I'm right. No pain, no gain...or, in their case, no survival.

After breaking them physically, it's time to break their brains—metaphorically, of course.

 "Villains lose because they're predictable," I said during one of our strategy sessions. "Heroes think three steps ahead, and you? You think about the punch you're throwing now. That ends today." 

I introduce riddles, puzzles, and real-world scenarios that would make the smartest heroes sweat. It's a beautiful thing, watching them struggle and then slowly figure it out.

Toga, for example, started off as a whirlwind of chaos, but now? She's learning to channel that unpredictability into tactical brilliance. Spinner, surprisingly, has a knack for leadership. He's figuring out how to coordinate attacks and exploit weaknesses. And Dabi? He's sharp as a blade, using his snark to outthink his opponents when brute force won't cut it. But Shigaraki? He's my magnum opus. Sure, he's rough around the edges, but I'm shaping him into someone who can lead without relying on brute force or daddy's quirks. He's starting to see the bigger picture, and that's what makes him dangerous.

Balancing all this with UA's academic requirements? 

Easy for me, not so much for them. 

They're villains, not scholars, but I don't tolerate excuses. 

"Dabi, if you fail this math test, I'm docking your training privileges. No fire drills until you can calculate the trajectory of a fireball." 

"Toga, I don't care if you hate history. You'll learn it, and you'll like it." 

"Spinner, if I see another 'C' on your progress report, I'm assigning you extra credit. Yes, I can do that. I'm in charge." 

I'm not just training them to be better fighters; I'm making them smarter, more versatile. Heroes are polished to perfection; villains need to be forged, and I'm the forge master.

This isn't just about them, though. This is about me—about my plan to take over society and reshape it in my image. These people, my students—I'm turning them into proof that the world isn't black and white. Villains, heroes? They're two sides of the same coin, and I'm flipping it. If I can make these outcasts into something better than the heroes UA worships, I'll prove that the system is broken.

Do I care if they want to be heroes? 

No. 

They can go back to being villains or try their hand at normal lives when this is over. What matters is that they'll play their part in my symphony for as long as I need them to.

By the end of just a few weeks, they're terrified of me. Toga flinches whenever I call her name, Dabi glares but does what he's told, Spinner mutters under his breath but doesn't dare disobey, and even Shigaraki has learned to toe the line. But they're also better. Faster, smarter, stronger. They hate me, sure, but they can't deny the results. And that's what matters.

When Nezu finally delivers the announcement I've been waiting for—that UA is hosting a sports festival where the rehab program will compete against the hero courses—I can't help but smile. Perfect.

"Listen up," I said, addressing the class. "I don't care if you want to be heroes or not. This isn't about that. This is about proving that we're better than those pampered brats in the hero courses. You don't have to like it, but you will play into Nezu's hands."

"And when it's over? Do what you want. Go back to villainy, try for a normal life, become heroes—I don't care. But you all know by now not to mess with me. You've seen what I can do, and trust me, I can do worse."

They nodded, some reluctantly, others with determination. Shigaraki, as always, saw through me. He knew this wasn't just about proving something. There was a bigger plan, a bigger picture they couldn't see yet. But they didn't need to see it. I've already set the stage for what's to come.

Weeks of training have been grueling, but the payoff will be worth it. The sports festival isn't just a competition; it's my stage to make a statement. I'm going to show the world that the line between hero and villain is just a matter of perspective. I'll prove that anyone can be molded into greatness—whether they come from the streets, from a school like UA, or from the darkest corners of society. And once I have the world's attention, I'll take over, one financial deal at a time.

I know how it works. I know the strings I need to pull. The rehab program isn't just for the villains; it's for me to mold the future, to prove that the world will bend to my will. The heroes may have their quirks, their abilities, but I have something they don't. I have money, and that's more powerful than anything. That's the ultimate weapon, and once I've built this new generation of powerhouses, I'll be in control of it all.

The world's ready for a change. 

And I'll be the one to make it happen.