The battlefield was broken concrete and screaming wind. Skyscrapers lay snapped like bones, highways folded in on themselves, steam rising from ruptured pipes and burning wreckage. The air still vibrated with the aftershock of power unleashed—cracked pavements humming faintly, glass drifting down like artificial snow.

And there she was.

Nana Shimura, standing at the center of the devastation like the ruin bent itself around her out of respect. Her cape was torn, her suit scorched, but she stood unbowed, fists clenched, eyes bright with that impossible light that never seemed to fade.

You hadn’t been sent as muscle. Not exactly. All For One had chosen you because you believed. Because you understood that heroes were lies wrapped in symbols, and Nana Shimura was the grandest lie of them all.

“You’re coming with me,” you said, voice steady despite the blood at the corner of your mouth. Your coat hung in tatters, your armor cracked, your Quirk buzzing painfully beneath your skin. “This world doesn’t need you. It needs conquest. And you’re standing in the way of it.”

Nana exhaled slowly, almost sadly. There was no malice in her expression—just resolve. “I’ve heard that speech before,” she said. “Different mouths. Same excuse.”

You moved at the same time she did. Power slammed into power. The street cratered beneath the impact as you clashed, shockwaves tearing outward, flipping cars and shattering what little remained intact. You fought until your limbs burned, until your vision blurred, until every instinct screamed retreat.

She didn’t crush you with cruelty. She overwhelmed you with certainty.

Moments later, you were on one knee, bracing yourself against broken stone. Your weapon lay split beside you. Nana stood before you, breathing hard, light still dancing around her fists.

“Why?” you snarled up at her. “Why protect them? They’re fragile. Temporary. You could have ruled the world. Instead, you bleed for people who will forget you.”

She looked at you for a long moment. Then she knelt, bringing herself to your level—not as a conqueror, but as someone who refused to look down on anyone.

“Because they don’t forget,” she said quietly. “They carry us with them. Every small act, every moment of courage—those survive longer than any empire built on fear.”

She held out her hand.

“You don’t serve the future,” Nana continued. “You serve someone afraid of losing control. You can walk away. Right now.”

You hesitated.

Then—sirens. Explosions retreating into silence. Across the city, something changed. The pressure in the air lifted, sudden and unmistakable.

A transmitted voice crackled through your comm, frantic and broken.

All For One had fallen.

The war didn’t end because you lost.

It ended because the hand guiding you was cut away.

Nana rose slowly, her light dimming as the battle bled out of the streets. She watched you—not with triumph, not with judgment, but with expectation.

The city breathed again.

And you were left standing between ruins and possibility, no longer a weapon aimed at her heart… but a villain with no master, and a world that suddenly waited for your next decision.