All at once, Akemi Sanada felt the world around her shrink. An overwhelming sense of claustrophobia had her ineffectively shoving at the teal barrier that tugged her into a dimension of nothingness. Trapped in a world of her own, she watched the world move at a breakneck pace before darkness flooded over her. As a child with a healing quirk, she had experienced little discomfort in life. Unlike heroes who had to be cutthroat with one another, medical personnel were hired in droves, as to keep up with the supply of broken bodies thanks to heroes and villains alike. For far too long she sat enveloped in the shroud of blackness. Thanks to her small size, every sound became an incomprehensible catastrophe of noise in her ears. By the time she was freed from her prison, she had shoved her hands over her ears.

"She needs to bleed more," a feminine voice declared.

Akemi turned to face the speaker, her waist-length,cobalt blue hair swaying as she tried to keep up. Just as she began to focus on one face, someone else commented.

"I didn't take you for a pervert, Compress," a black haired young man sneered.

"This is the one Giran said to acquire," Compress defended.

"So, girl, what can you do?" The last voice was nothing more than a lazy drawl. The speaker seemed to have already made up his mind up about her and spoke as if her end loomed about the corner.

The others fell silent. Slowly, Akemi earnestly investigated the six figures in the room. The first man looked as if he was missing fifty percent of the skin on his body. She noticed the blood-obsessed blonde next, who looked like a normal high school girl with crazy eyes and a persistent scowl. Then there was the man whose pocket she'd come out of - Compress. He wore a bolero tie with a suit vest and dress slacks. Beside him was a reptilian looking man; complete with green, scaly skin and a snout. Last of all was a fellow in a full body, mostly black suit. While she had looked around, the League's gray haired leader stepped toward Akemi and grabbed her by the back of the head.

"I asked you a question," he whispered threateningly. For the scant moment that Akemi could meet his eyes, she saw madness and loathing settled deep into the darkest corners of his soul. She squirmed, trying to put distance between the madman and herself, only for the pressure to disappear. His free hand gripped her forearm tightly. "Ahh!" Akemi shouted, writhing with the unexpected pain. Her host cackled and released his hold. "If she can't heal it, you can burn her, Dabi."

"Whatever."

Akemi dropped to her knees and placed her palm over her injury, wincing as she noticed her flaking, deteriorated skin and the exposed muscle beneath it. While she healed herself, the grey haired man crouched down and watched the process. Almost the instant her flesh had returned, he reached out and stuck his hand over her mouth. "You'll be an excellent stress reliever," he giggled - a child with a new toy. "Welcome to the League of Villains."

Converts oxygen into cells. If she is in a place with no oxygen, there can be no new cells made. Generated cells have to anchor off existing cells.

Tomura Shigaraki had more than enough stress on his plate with All For One incarcerated. He was expected to rise to the occasion of leadership without any backing beyond the five lugs who had followed him, Giran, and a potential recruit who Dabi claimed may pan out. All of his thoughts were pushed aside as he zeroed in on their captive. If what Giran's said file was accurate, nobody would miss the self-absorbed, narcissistic student. "You're selfish," he sneered, drawing his face beside the girl's as he pinched his fingers. He cupped carefully over her ruined features to muffle her screams. "Nobody likes you."

He couldn't help but feel satisfied when he saw tears roll down to her exposed cheeks. Shigaraki pushed himself away, content with the trial. Without giving her any command, she fumbled to her ruined face and began to reconstruct her features. Anyone else may have thought her beautiful, but Shigaraki hated the perfection of her unblemished canvas. Back when he was younger and the scars were fresh, seeping wounds, Shigaraki recalled how repulsed he'd been every time he looked in a mirror. Even in his villain getup, he made sure to place his father's hand over his face. If his memory served, his father had been a decent looking, so he showed that single remaining part to the world - as opposed to having his hideous mug slapped over wanted posters.

It only took a minute before she had regained perfection. "Now let's see how you handle internal injuries," Shigaraki said as he drew his leg back and kicked her in the stomach. He didn't care that Compress had made it a point to look away, or that Spinner had his jaw set. Though Shigaraki wanted to do so much more, he knew it was important to keep his few followers appeased. They had to be in it together - a single entity. Or they would meet their end. There was a satisfying thud as his shoe slammed against her gut.

Slowly, she reached to the point of impact and replicated the healing. He watched tense breathing become no more than a slower, steadier gulp of breath. At last, there was a toy he couldn't break. Shigaraki as giddy as a child on Christmas morning. "You have one night to rebuild Compress's arm. Don't disappoint me."

I apologize to anyone who is reading my other works, but I got inspiration for a fairly dark story. I promise I will finish Alien Fever and A True Hero. As for triggers, this is the one and only trigger warning I'm gonna give. This is not a happy story. The only thing I CAN promise, is that there will be no flaying - because that is my one personal limit. Otherwise, everything else is fair game. Feel free to leave suggestions and criticisms in the reviews. Future chapters will likely be doubled in length from the prologue.