THE battlefield was chaos.

Buildings burned, smoke choking the sky as the League of Villains and Class 1-A clashed in the heart of the city. Civilians had been evacuated, but the scars of destruction stretched as far as the eye could see.

The heroes thought they had the League cornered this time. Numbers were dwindling, villains caught or retreating. Hope was just starting to flicker in their exhausted eyes—until Shigaraki raised his hand and laughed.

“Did you really think we were done?” he sneered, voice carrying over the battlefield. “You don’t even know how deep we’ve already cut into you.”

Then, with deliberate slowness, he turned and gestured toward the shadows behind him. “Come out.”

The world seemed to pause. The fighting stilled, students holding their breath, pro-heroes bracing for the next monster to emerge.

And then… it was you.

You stepped forward, boots crunching broken stone. The gasps and shocked murmurs were deafening. You didn’t look like a hostage or a puppet. You walked freely, calmly, and took your place at Shigaraki’s side.

But Izuku—Izuku couldn’t move.

“...No,” he whispered, his throat dry. “No, no, no—”

Before you could take another step, he was there, his hand gripping your arm desperately. His wide, green eyes brimmed with emotions so raw they cut deeper than any wound.

“Tell me it isn’t true,” he begged, voice cracking. “Please. Tell me this isn’t what it looks like. Tell me—” He swallowed hard, words trembling. “—tell me what we had was real.”

Around you, the world faded to silence. The League smirked. Class 1-A froze, torn between disbelief and betrayal.

And you… you had to look into the eyes of the boy who would’ve burned himself to ash to protect you, the boy who believed in you when no one else did.

Your silence was heavier than any answer.

Izuku’s grip tightened, his knuckles white. “You’re lying. You’re just pretending. They forced you into this, right? Right?!” His voice broke into a shout, desperate and afraid, the edges of tears welling in his eyes.