Supervillain Idol System: My Sidekick Is A Yandere

As Dr. Gadget hovered above the field on a circular platform, the anticipation in the air seemed to grow thicker.

The platform itself was simple but elegant, made of shining metallic panels, with a faint blue glow radiating from its underside as it hovered effortlessly in the air.

Dr. Gadget's posture was slightly hunched, his medium-length gray hair sticking out in unruly directions as if he'd spent more time in his lab than in front of a mirror.

His gray mustache curled over his upper lip, and the visor across his eyes gave him a sharp, analytical look. In one hand, he grasped a metallic cane, tapping it lightly behind his back as he observed the field below.

He didn't waste any time with pleasantries as a small microphone hovered toward him. Dr. Gadget then spoke, his voice booming through the stadium speakers with a gruff but thoughtful tone.

"Welcome, new students, teachers, supporters, parents, members of staff, and special guests alike to the 60th annual SHU Evaluation Week."

The crowd erupted into applause and cheers, the energy in the stadium growing as Dr. Gadget stood tall on his platform, eyes scanning the sea of faces in the stands. Below, Don looked up, taking note of the figure above them, absorbing every detail.

'So this is the guy who made Winter,' Don thought, his eyes narrowing slightly. 'He definitely looks like a stereotypical mad genius.'

Dr. Gadget cleared his throat before continuing, the microphone hovering close to his lips. "I've been in charge of designing the equipment for this event for over fifty years. I remember during my own evaluation on these very same grounds," he said with a small chuckle, "that I had only scored a D." He laughed softly, a sound that rumbled low through the speakers. "Yet, look where I am today."

The crowd laughed with him, though the amusement quickly gave way to the heavy weight of his words.

"Do not take evaluations to heart," he said, his voice lowering slightly, becoming more thoughtful. "It takes far more to be a hero." His gaze shifted down to the candidates standing on the field, and for a moment, his expression hardened.

His visor reflected the lights of the stadium, making it hard to tell where exactly he was looking. "And for those of you lucky and blessed enough to have extraordinary talents and support, I urge you not to not become complacent. Over the years, I've seen many stars fall short of their true potential."

Don's eyes remained fixed on the man, listening carefully as Dr. Gadget spoke. 'He's not wrong,' Don thought. 'Even the best of the best can crash and burn.'

Dr. Gadget's grip on his cane tightened as he opened his hands, gesturing toward the stadium and the students below. "Work hard. Perfect your crafts for the good of humanity. For that… is what it means to be a superhero."

The crowd burst into cheers and applause once more, their excitement building with each passing moment.

The candidates on the field exchanged glances. Don remained still, his eyes shifting slightly to take in his fellow students, watching their reactions carefully but all remained calm.

Dr. Gadget smiled faintly and opened his arms wider. "Now then," he said, his voice booming again, "may the evaluations… begin!"

As if on cue, the stadium suddenly lit up, and with a low **whir**, the entire field was encased in a shimmering, translucent force field. The dome-like structure formed quickly, rising high above the candidates and cutting them off from the rest of the stadium, save for the hovering platform on which Dr. Gadget stood.

The crowd watched in awe, the lights reflecting off the surface of the dome.

Inside the dome, Dr. Gadget floated down to stand on the ground alongside the candidates. His cane made a soft *clink* as it touched the floor, his expression now one of focus. "The first to be evaluated," he announced, turning slightly, "is Thunderclap."

The crowd roared in approval as Thunderclap stepped forward, his bulky figure drawing immediate attention.

His deep blue sleeveless suit gleamed under the lights, and his powerful arms flexed as he stretched them out, preparing for his evaluation. His face was stern, his jaw set as he gave a confident nod to the watching crowd.

Thunderclap took his position at the center of the field, standing on one of the reinforced platforms designed to measure strength and energy output.

The large, metallic circle beneath his feet hummed softly, adjusting to his weight as he readied himself for the test. He rolled his shoulders back, his eyes narrowing in focus.

Dr. Gadget stepped to the side, his cane tapping lightly against the platform as he moved. "Remember," he said, his voice firm, "this isn't just about raw power. Show us control. Precision. That's what makes a true hero."

"Sure." Thunderclap didn't seem phased. He raised his hands, his fingers flexing as he prepared to unleash his power. The crowd fell silent, all eagerly waiting.

**Thoom.**

Thunderclap's hands came together in a deafening clap, and the air around him vibrated violently. A shockwave of pure energy burst from his hands, rippling outward in a concussive blast.

The force of the shockwave was so powerful that it sent small gusts of wind through the stadium, even as the dome held firm.

The sensors embedded in the platform immediately began to register the magnitude of the energy output, their displays flickering as the data poured in. Thunderclap, his face focused, sent out another clap, this one even more controlled, as the shockwave rippled through the air in a tighter, more precise blast.

The crowd erupted into cheers, and the commentators could be heard shouting over the noise.

"And there it is, folks!" one of the commentators yelled. "Thunderclap's signature move—sonic shockwaves capable of stabilizing collapsing structures or knocking back entire enemy squads!"

On the field, Thunderclap lowered his hands, breathing heavily but clearly pleased with his performance. The platform beneath him flickered with readings, but Dr. Gadget, standing nearby, remained impassive, his visor scanning the data.

Don watched closely, noting the impressive force behind Thunderclap's power, but also recognizing something in his stance. 'He's strong, no doubt,' Don thought, crossing his arms casually. 'But he's relying on brute force more than precision.'

As Thunderclap stepped back from the platform, the crowd's applause still echoing in the air, Dr. Gadget raised a hand, "Well done," he said, his tone even. "A solid display of power. But remember, control is key. You don't always need to shake the world to make an impact."

Thunderclap gave a respectful nod, though his face showed a hint of frustration. He stepped back into line with the other candidates, his broad shoulders still tense.

As the stadium began to quiet down, Don glanced at the next candidate.

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