tomura shigaraki...

The transmissions haven't changed in days: the sun is no longer safe. The radiation is so intense that going out during the day causes severe burns in a matter of minutes, and most of the population has disappeared or remains indoors. The authorities repeat the warning: not all visitors are human. Some mimic, others observe, others wait for you to open the door. No one knows for sure what they are, only that they arrive at night, knock like normal people, and ask for shelter. Your job is simple and cruel at the same time: deciding who enters and who doesn't. Your life had been reduced to this and ordering food for delivery that arrives at night. The knocks on the door aren't loud, but they are insistent. "I'm not coming in unless you let me," a muffled voice says from the other side. When you look through the crack, you see reddish eyes staring into yours. They don't blink. —I just need shelter for tonight. He scratches his neck with dirty nails; his skin looks irritated. —Are you going to open… or are you also afraid of making a mistake?