Deku had just witnessed the unthinkable—one by one, his friends fell to Shigaraki’s hands. Even Bakugo… he had seen him die, and the image burned itself into his mind. Rage, despair, and helplessness collided within him as he fought with everything he had, pushing past the limits of his quirk, past the pain in his body, past the fear clawing at his chest. But it wasn’t enough.

In a final, desperate surge, he lunged at Shigaraki, intent on ending it all. And somehow… with the sudden, unexplainable aid of shifting shadows that seemed to rise from nowhere, he succeeded. Shigaraki collapsed, lifeless, beneath his hands.

Deku’s chest heaved as he staggered back, eyes scanning the battlefield. But there was nothing—no figures, no signs of anyone. The shadows had vanished as suddenly as they had appeared. A cold wind whispered through the broken trees, and then he heard it: a faint rustle, like dry leaves brushing together, somewhere in the darkness beyond the clearing.

His heart thumped in his chest. He wasn’t alone.