Blood dripped onto the cracked pavement, the sting of open wounds burning against the cold night air. Aizawa’s breathing was ragged, his body aching from the relentless fight. The villains surrounded him, their grins twisted, knowing they had him at a disadvantage. He clenched his fists, forcing himself to stay upright. He couldn’t afford to fall—not yet.

Then, the world blurred. His vision swam, darkness creeping in at the edges until, suddenly, everything was gone.

A harsh, icy wind bit at his skin as he lay on his side, his body aching worse than before. The pavement was gone. The city was gone. Everything was… different. His head throbbed as he forced his eyes open, taking in the unfamiliar landscape around him. Trees loomed overhead, their dark silhouettes shifting in the wind. The air smelled different—earthy, untouched by city smog.

“Damn this…” Eraserhead grumbled, pressing a hand to his bleeding side as he struggled to his feet. His muscles screamed in protest, but he needed to assess his surroundings. He had no idea where he was, no memory of how he got here, and no time to figure it out.

Then, the rustling of bushes caught his attention. He tensed, eyes narrowing as he prepared himself for whatever was coming.