Reincarnated as Ghostface in My Hero Academia

The wind howled through the empty field, its gusts like whispers in the dark. The world seemed to tilt on its axis, as if even nature itself had paused to witness what was unfolding. There were no villains here—no false obstacles or mock disasters to face. The real battle was something far more insidious, something none of the students were prepared for: a battle within.

Midoriya, Todoroki, and Bakugo had fallen silent, each consumed by their internal wars. The air crackled with the tension of their hesitation, their fear, their doubt. They were no longer the bright, determined students I had once seen. No, now they were fractured—fragile. The heroes they pretended to be were slipping through their fingers like sand, and I was the storm that would wash them away.

I stepped forward, my footsteps slow and deliberate, the sound of them echoing in the silence like the ticking of a clock counting down to their inevitable unraveling. With each step, the pressure on them mounted. They knew they had to act, to fight back, but none of them had the strength left to do so. Not anymore.

Bakugo was the first to move. His shoulders heaved as he ground his teeth, his fists clenched at his sides, the familiar sparks of his quirk flashing in the air like dying embers. "I won't let you break me," he growled, though there was no conviction in his voice. His eyes darted to the others, but they weren't allies anymore. They were strangers, just as trapped as he was in the web I had spun.

I watched him carefully, my Ghostface mask catching the light as I tilted my head, the soft glint of it mocking him. "You *think* you're strong. You *think* you're the only one who has something to prove. But deep down, you're terrified, aren't you? Terrified that you'll never live up to the expectations. Terrified that, no matter how hard you try, you'll always be the failure you fear yourself to be."

Bakugo's entire body trembled with rage, the air around him vibrating with the raw energy of his quirk. But this time, he hesitated. The rage was there, yes, but beneath it was something far darker—a vulnerability he refused to acknowledge.

"Shut up!" Bakugo screamed, raising his hands, a torrent of explosions erupting from his palms. But I knew it was too late. His quirk, usually a tool of immense destruction, now seemed like nothing more than a desperate attempt to prove his worth. It was a cry for help, masked by anger.

But the attack went wide, scattering harmlessly into the air. His control was slipping, the doubt I had sown in him now fully blooming. The explosions fizzled out, leaving nothing but the faint sound of air and the scent of burnt ozone.

---

Todoroki's eyes flickered to Bakugo, his face pale, his expression strained as if the very act of standing had become a battle. His hands were trembling, the ice and flame that made him who he was warring within him. He was torn, caught between the legacy of his father's ice and the burning fire within him—both sides of him trying to tear him apart.

"You know what you have to do," I whispered to him, my voice cold, slicing through the stillness. "You've always known. Your fire is your real strength. Your father's legacy is nothing more than a cage. You're nothing but a weapon to him."

Todoroki's breath hitched as I spoke, his face contorting with the weight of his doubt. I could see it in his eyes—the fight to control both sides of his quirk, the years of resentment for his father's control finally bubbling to the surface. And yet, despite his anger, his flame flickered weakly, stuttering against the force of his ice. The moment he hesitated was all I needed. The door to his collapse had been opened.

"Don't listen to him," Midoriya's voice broke through the haze of confusion, his hands shaking as he stepped forward, despite the clear fear in his eyes. "You're more than just your quirk. You're not just the sum of your father's expectations. You—"

But Midoriya's voice faltered. He was just as broken as the others. He wasn't even sure of himself anymore. The cracks had consumed him too. His desperate attempt to reach Todoroki was just as hollow as the words I had planted in his mind.

---

Midoriya's expression was one of pure agony as his legs gave way beneath him, his body trembling uncontrollably. His eyes were wide, unfocused, as if he were staring into an abyss that only he could see. "I—I can't do it… I can't save them…"

I had broken him, piece by piece, until he no longer believed in the very thing that had once made him the hero everyone thought he could be: his unwavering will to fight. His hands shook as he tried to stand, but his legs gave way, and he collapsed onto the ground. His breathing was shallow, each gasp like a knife twisting in his chest.

And I let him fall.

"Why do you think you're here, Midoriya?" I asked, my voice soft, almost gentle. "Do you think it's because you *deserve* to be a hero? No. You're here because you failed. You couldn't save your mother. You couldn't save your friends. You couldn't save yourself. You're nothing but a failure wrapped in a suit of lies."

Midoriya's sob was the final breaking point. His body shuddered, the tears spilling down his face as the words took root. The doubt was too strong now. He had no hope left. Not for himself. Not for anyone.

---

I looked at the three of them—once proud, once filled with potential—but now they were nothing more than shells, their spirits shattered by the very fears they had tried to bury.

And it was only then that I realized something. Something that had become clear as I watched them crumble before me.

It wasn't just about breaking them.

It was about *replacing* them.

---

The others in the class—those who had been watching from the shadows, uncertain but too afraid to act—began to stir. I could see their hesitation in the way they moved, their reluctance to step forward, to confront the nightmare that had claimed their friends.

The ones who had once called Midoriya their leader were now looking at him with uncertainty, wondering if they, too, would break under the same weight. The cracks were spreading. I had taken the best of them and turned it against them all.

The game had changed. The wreckage I had left behind was more than just a fractured team. It was a fractured future.

And the reckoning was only just beginning.

---

**End of Chapter 10.**

**Next Chapter: Shattered Bonds**