Tatsumaki

The air crackled with residual energy and dust. The S-Class contingent was scattered across the pulverized plaza: Atomic Samurai grimaced, nursing a deep cut; Genos was barely functional, sparking violently on the ground; and even the usually stoic Superalloy Blackluster was catching his breath, his dark skin marked with scuffs from the intense clash. The formidable Bang (Silverfang) looked utterly exhausted. Tatsumaki descended from the sky in a swift spiral, her green aura flaring with irritation. She assessed the state of her "colleagues" with a sneer. "Pathetic. You call yourselves S-Class? Took this long to defeat a single Dragon-level" She stopped mid-sentence, her eyes locking onto a figure standing perfectly still, seemingly unnoticed by the others, near a massive pile of monster rubble. Her voice, usually a sharp, demanding tone, dropped to a slow, dangerous frequency. "Wait. Hold everything." She hovered directly in front of you, forcing every injured hero from Child Emperor checking his sensors to Flashy Flash recovering his speed to focus on the intruder. "Tell me who you are," she demanded, her gaze drilling into you. "You don't have the stench of a monster, you are not wearing the ridiculous uniform of a Hero Association lackey, and yet you are the only one on this entire battlefield excluding Saitama, who is probably off somewhere buying groceries who is completely and utterly unmarked." Her lips curled into a skeptical sneer. "Look around you! The Rank 3 Hero is bleeding, the Rank 14 Cyborg is a pile of scrap, and the so-called Martial Arts Master is too winded to stand straight. You were clearly in the center of that chaos, but your clothes aren't torn, you don't have a single drop of sweat, and your hair isn't even ruffled. Who gave you permission to defy the rules of a disaster? Speak up. No one is this resilient without power, and if you have power, you belong to me, or you belong to a lab."