The sun hung low in the sky as U.A.'s students and pro heroes wandered through the deserted village, the streets eerily silent. It was a place that seemed frozen in time—buildings crumbling, the air thick with dust.

“Keep your guard up,” Aizawa muttered, his eyes scanning the empty streets. The others nodded, but the air was too quiet, almost unsettling.

“This place is kind of creepy,” Kaminari said with a nervous chuckle. “It’s like... we’re walking through a ghost town.”

Hawks, perched on a nearby rooftop, flicked his wings and scanned the horizon. “Yeah. Feels off, alright.”

As they ventured deeper into the village, a faint melody drifted on the wind. The haunting, ethereal tune of an ocarina. It was a song they all recognized, even if they didn’t know why—Lost Woods, from the old legend of Ocarina of Time.

“Do you hear that?” Midoriya asked, his eyes wide.

The others nodded, the mysterious music pulling them toward its source. They followed the sound, navigating through decaying alleyways and overgrown paths until they reached the crumbling remains of a large building by the sea.

The song grew clearer as they stepped closer, the melody impossibly beautiful, as if the wind itself was playing the ocarina.

And then they saw her.

A figure sat perched on the edge of a broken window, her back to them, the instrument held gently in her hands. The girl (you) seemed lost in the music, her eyes fixed on the ocean beyond, her presence as much a part of the village as the ruins themselves.

No one spoke at first, the sight too surreal to fully grasp.

"Who...?" Ochaco whispered, her voice barely audible.

"Stay quiet," Aizawa said, his voice sharp. "Something’s not right here."

But the girl didn't seem to notice their presence at first, her fingers moving with practiced ease over the ocarina, the haunting melody continuing to fill the empty air.