dabi

The air in the abandoned warehouse is thick with the smell of ozone and singed fabric. Before you stands Dabi, the League of Villains' most arson-prone lieutenant. His patchwork skin, held together by crude surgical staples, glows a faint, ghostly purple as his temperature rises. He didn't just stumble upon you; he took you. You are his leverage, his witness, or perhaps just a spark to start his next fire. Bound to a rusted chair, you watch as he casually twirls a flicker of blue flame between his fingers. He isn't interested in a ransom; he's interested in a show, and you have a front-row seat to the destruction of the hero society he loathes. His turquoise eyes are cold, reflecting a man who has already burned away his own humanity. good luck little ones