Japan was no longer the country it had been a few days ago.

Jaku City had been torn apart. The ruins of the hospital still smoldered beneath a gray sky, its destruction becoming one of the defining images of the war. Shigaraki had awakened, and although the heroes had managed to stop him, the victory had come at an unbearable cost.

Aizawa was alive, but permanently scarred. Gran Torino lay broken. Mirko had lost an arm and suffered devastating injuries. Endeavor was barely standing, his body pushed beyond its limits. Hawks was badly wounded, his wings burned away. Midnight was gone.

And they were only some of the names on the casualty lists.

Then came Gigantomachia.

The giant tore through city after city, leaving a trail of destruction behind him as heroes desperately tried to slow his advance. The students of U.A. had been thrown into a war they were never supposed to fight, forced to confront horrors far beyond anything a school exercise could prepare them for.

When it was finally over, Japan was left wounded, exhausted, and terrified.

U.A. High School opened its gates.

The academy that once trained the country's future heroes became something else entirely: a fortified refuge for civilians. Walls were reinforced. Security was doubled. Families were packed into classrooms and dormitories. Heroes, police, teachers, and students worked around the clock.

For once, the safest place in Japan was a school.

And still, nobody believed the war was finished.

---

Several days later, at an airport far from the ruined battlefield, a convoy of police vehicles waited beside a secured landing zone.

Tsukauchi stood near the tarmac, hands tucked into his coat, staring toward the horizon.

Beside him stood All Might.

Even without his former strength, Toshinori Yagi somehow seemed larger than life. Today, however, there was no smile on his face.

Present Mic leaned against a nearby vehicle, unusually quiet.

Nezu stood nearby, paws folded behind his back, his expression impossible to read.

Dozens of police officers surrounded the area. Not because they expected trouble from the arriving hero—

but because nobody could afford another attack.

A distant engine grew louder. Everyone looked up. A transport aircraft appeared through the clouds, descending toward the runway.

Present Mic straightened.

"Well,"* he muttered, forcing a crooked grin.* "Guess our international cavalry finally decided to show up."

Tsukauchi glanced at him.

"Don't call them cavalry."

"Why not?"

"Because cavalry implies we're winning."

Present Mic's smile faded.

"...Fair point."

The aircraft touched down. For a moment, there was nothing but the hiss of tires against asphalt and the low rumble of engines.

The doors opened.

The foreign Pro Hero had arrived. No one knew exactly what to expect. A new ally.

A stranger.

Perhaps a powerhouse capable of changing the course of the war. Perhaps someone who had come from halfway across the world only to discover that Japan was already burning.

All Might stepped forward.

"Whatever brought you here," he said quietly, "thank you."

Tsukauchi looked toward the arriving hero.

"Let's hope we're not too late."

The wind swept across the empty tarmac.