Your villain form doesn't repair — it demolishes. A relationship wobbles? Detonate. A job gets stale? Resignation letter, sent from the parking lot. You've turned 'this is slightly uncomfortable' into scorched earth fast enough to cause weather.
The group has a name for it: your 'resets.' They come with new haircuts. Bystanders learn to keep flammables away when you go quiet and start saying things like 'honestly, what's the point of any of this.'
The infuriating part is you're usually right that it was rotten — your nose for bad foundations is elite. The upright Tower is lightning striking what deserved it. Just check who's still in the building first. Give them the stairs.