The days passed, each one blurring into the next as I moved through the shadows, an unseen force driving my game forward. The tension between Kirishima and Sero had intensified, small barbs exchanged between them whenever their eyes met. The others didn't know what was happening, couldn't see the subtle poison I was injecting into their relationships. But I could see it. I could feel it.
Every glance, every word, every choice was a calculated move. I wasn't interested in simple confrontations. No, I was after something deeper: the fear of the unknown. The terror of *never* knowing when the next attack would come, or from where. My classmates were walking on eggshells, and they didn't even know why. And that was the beauty of it.
Today, the game took a darker turn.
---
Class 1-A had gathered in the training field again, this time for a mock rescue exercise. The scenario was simple: a group of students had to rescue hostages while the others played the role of villains. The stakes weren't high, the exercise just a part of their regular training. But for me, it was an opportunity to create chaos.
The rules were simple enough. The "villains" would use their quirks to impede the heroes' progress, while the heroes had to work together to save the hostages. But there was one thing missing: me. I wasn't officially part of the exercise. I didn't have a role to play.
But that's where I thrived. The best players are the ones who never need to show their hands.
I stood at the edge of the field, watching as the teams were formed. Midoriya and Bakugo were already bickering about their strategies, as usual. Todoroki, as always, was the quiet observer, his gaze sweeping over his classmates. I could sense the discomfort in the air, like a storm was brewing just beneath the surface.
This was it. The perfect moment.
---
The exercise began, and the students moved into position. I waited for just the right moment, watching as they enacted their roles. Midoriya, as usual, was throwing himself into his task with relentless determination, trying to make up for his perceived inadequacies. Bakugo was doing the same, but with his usual aggression, more interested in proving he could do everything on his own than working with others. Todoroki, calm as ever, was trying to be the anchor, the one who could hold everything together. But even he was starting to fray at the edges. I could see it in his eyes—the inner conflict, the weight of his legacy bearing down on him.
I saw my opening.
Without warning, I moved, slipping from the shadows like a wisp of smoke. My quirk allowed me to remain unseen, a ghost in the chaos, my steps silent on the grass. I was no longer just a passive observer. I was a part of the game now.
I stepped into the middle of the mock rescue area, unseen, just out of sight of the students. They were so focused on their roles, they didn't even know I was there. I manipulated the environment around them, subtly altering their surroundings. A flick of my wrist here, a shift in the wind there. My presence was like a whisper in the breeze.
The first change came when Midoriya and Bakugo, racing to save the "hostages," suddenly found their path blocked. A small shift in the air, a subtle vibration beneath the ground, and the floor split open just enough to send them stumbling. It wasn't enough to harm them—just enough to make them doubt themselves, to make them question their footing. The crack was only small, but to them, in the heat of the moment, it felt like the ground was literally giving way.
They fought to regain their balance, but in the back of their minds, something darker had begun to bloom: the fear of losing control. They had no idea what had just happened. And that was the most dangerous part—they couldn't see the hand that guided them.
As they scrambled, I turned my attention to Todoroki. He was leading the charge, trying to organize the others. But the moment I set my sights on him, I knew how to push him.
His father. His legacy. His quirk.
I whispered a word, just loud enough for him to hear, the weight of it settling into his mind: "Weak."
Todoroki's body stiffened. His quirk flared, an instinctual reaction to the taunt, but he quickly reined it in. However, the seed had been planted. The doubt, the frustration, the anger. His father's words echoed in his mind. Was he *weak*? Or was his quirk a mere tool, a weapon meant to be wielded at his father's command?
He hesitated—just for a second—but it was enough. A moment of indecision. A moment where the shadow of fear crept into his heart.
The world around me continued to move, but in that brief moment, I could see the cracks widening, the walls slowly crumbling. They didn't even know they were under attack.
---
Later that night, as I slipped through the shadows once more, I could hear the murmurs in the halls, the whispered voices of my classmates. Kirishima and Sero were barely speaking to each other. Bakugo and Midoriya were still at odds, their rivalry taking a darker, more dangerous tone. Todoroki, always the stoic one, seemed quieter than usual. His eyes were distant, lost in thought. And the rest of the class could feel it too—something was wrong, but no one could pinpoint it.
The tension was unbearable, and they didn't even know who or what was causing it.
That was when I realized something important: this game was no longer just about manipulation. It was about control. The control I held over them, over their minds, over their perceptions. They were becoming more and more paranoid, more and more uncertain.
Soon, they would start looking for the source of the disturbance, the thing that was causing their fears to surface. But by then, it would be too late. I would already be too deep inside their minds.
And once I had them there, once I had *them*—the whole class—doubting everything they knew, I would be unstoppable.
I was the unseen threat, the thing that lingered in the darkness, pulling the strings. And no one would ever be able to stop me.
---
**End of Chapter 7.**
**Next Chapter: The Final Reveal**