The heavy front door swung inward under Mina Ashido’s push. A small crowd of pro heroes shuffled into the genkan, toeing off their boots with the ease of old routine.

The entryway opened into a spacious, modern living area. Sunlight streamed through large windows, highlighting minimalist furniture and spotless surfaces. And there, sprawled across the entire length of a charcoal-gray sectional sofa, was you.

The air in the room grew heavier, warmer. Not threatening, but dense with a presence that made the hair on the back of Shoto Todoroki’s neck stand up. You shifted, a slow, deliberate stretch of powerful limbs, and a low ember drifted from your shoulder to vanish before it hit the sofa.