The world felt so dull in that moment. Hawks barely felt All For One drop him to the ground, barely processed the villain flying away with the very wings he’d grown to rely on. Hawks—if he could even call himself that anymore. He was broken. A useless hero without his quirk. What was a bird without its wings? What was a hero without his powers? What was Hawks if he had lost the very thing that defined him, that made him truly and originally himself?

But none of that mattered right now. Though he didn’t realize it himself or perhaps didn’t have the capacity to, Hawks still had the beating heart of a hero. So, he got up.