The tension in the air was thick, suffocating, but I thrived on it. My pulse was steady, my breathing calm as I calculated my next move. Eijiro "Red Riot" Kirishima stood in the middle of the warehouse like a fortress, all hardened resolve and unyielding strength. But even fortresses could crumble, and tonight, I was the earthquake.

I didn't wait for an invitation. The second his lackeys so much as shifted in my direction, I was a blur of motion, launching myself at the closest one. My fist connected with his jaw before he even realized I'd moved. The crunch of bone was satisfying in a way I'd never admit aloud.

The others sprang into action, but they might as well have been moving in slow motion. I ducked under a wild swing, my elbow slamming into another guy's ribs with enough force to make him crumple like wet paper. Agility was my weapon, and I wielded it ruthlessly.

Eijiro's voice cut through the chaos, sharp and commanding. "Stand down!"

His lackeys hesitated, their gazes flicking between him and me. Big mistake. I took the opening, sweeping a guy's legs out from under him and sending him crashing to the ground.

"That's cute," I said, straightening up and locking eyes with Eijiro. "You really think they can handle me?"

His jaw tightened, but he didn't answer. Instead, he stepped forward, his skin hardening with that unbreakable quirk of his. A walking wall of defense.

"Alright," he said, his voice low and measured. "You've made your point. Now back off before this gets worse for you."

I laughed, the sound sharp and humorless. "Worse for me? Oh, sweetheart, you've got this all wrong. I'm just getting started."

And then I was moving again, faster than he could react. I closed the distance between us in a heartbeat, my fist slamming into his side. His quirk absorbed the impact, but the force still made him stumble.

His eyes widened, just a fraction, but I caught it. He wasn't expecting this.

"Not bad," he said, recovering quickly. "But you're gonna have to do better than that."

"Don't worry," I said, darting to the side to avoid his counterattack. "I plan to."

I was relentless, striking at every opening, testing his defenses. He was strong—stronger than I'd expected—but strength meant nothing if you couldn't hit your target. And he couldn't. I was too fast, slipping past his swings like water through a sieve.

One of his lackeys tried to blindside me, but I heard him coming. Without breaking stride, I spun and drove my knee into his gut, sending him sprawling.

"Stay down," I snapped, my gaze already back on Eijiro.

The big guy was breathing harder now, his frustration starting to show. "What the hell are you?" he muttered, more to himself than to me.

"A ghost," I said, smirking. "Here to haunt you."

I lunged again, this time aiming for his legs. My foot swept out in a low arc, but he anticipated it, jumping back just in time.

"Quick learner," I said, straightening up. "Too bad it won't save you."

The fight was brutal, a blur of punches, kicks, and near misses. Despite his beta status and his quirk, Eijiro was struggling to keep up. He didn't know—couldn't know—that I was an omega. My pheromones were too weak to give me away, and I had no intention of enlightening him.

Not that it mattered. I didn't need a quirk or pheromones to prove my worth. My fists spoke loud enough.

The warehouse was a mess now, scattered with unconscious bodies and overturned crates. The other party—the so-called "business associates" Eijiro had been dealing with—hadn't fared much better. They'd made the mistake of pulling weapons, and I'd made the mistake of letting my temper get the better of me.

By the time I was done, they were either out cold or wishing they were.

Eijiro was the last one standing, his chest heaving as he glared at me. Blood dripped from a cut above his eyebrow, and his knuckles were raw from where he'd landed a few lucky hits.

"This is your last chance," he said, his voice low and dangerous. "Walk away now."

I tilted my head, pretending to consider it. "Hmm... nah."

His growl was pure frustration as he charged at me, his quirk flaring to life. But I was ready. I sidestepped at the last second, my foot hooking behind his ankle and sending him stumbling.

He caught himself, but the brief lapse in balance was all I needed. I was on him in an instant, my fists a blur as I struck at every weak point I could find. His quirk absorbed most of the damage, but even unbreakable walls had their limits.

He tried to grab me, but I twisted out of his grip, delivering a sharp elbow to his side. He grunted, staggering back.

"Getting tired?" I asked, my tone mocking. "Don't worry, I'll finish this quick."

He didn't respond, his focus narrowing as he prepared for another attack. But I could see the cracks forming, both in his quirk and his resolve. He was running out of steam.

Good.

I pressed the advantage, my movements a blur as I dodged, struck, and dodged again. Each hit landed harder than the last, my frustration fueling every punch.

This wasn't just about the job anymore. This was about proving a point. About showing the world—showing myself—that I wasn't just some omega to be underestimated.

The fight ended with a final, devastating blow to his side. He crumpled to the ground, his quirk flickering out as he struggled to catch his breath.

I stood over him, my chest heaving as I fought to steady my breathing. Blood dripped from my knuckles, staining the concrete beneath me.

"Next time," I said, my voice low and cold, "don't get in my way."

I turned to leave, stepping over the unconscious bodies littering the floor. The warehouse was eerily silent now, the only sound my footsteps echoing against the walls.

I knew what I'd done. Taking out Eijiro and his crew wasn't just a job—it was a declaration. This was going to start a territorial war, no doubt about it.

But as I stepped into the night, the cool air brushing against my skin, I realized I didn't care.

Let the world burn.