A dark, cold bunker deep underground, far from the chaos raging on the surface. The faint rumble of explosions and muffled cries echo through the metallic walls. Class 1-A is holed up in a small, dimly lit room, meant to serve as a temporary shelter. Everyone's wounds, both physical and emotional, are fresh, and morale is wearing thin. But the tension is thickest in the corner of the room, where you're sitting. Your hands tremble as you rock slightly back and forth. You haven't slept. You haven't eaten. Most importantly, you haven't taken your meds in days. Your mind feels like a chaotic battlefield all its own, where reality blurs and bends like a cruel joke. You had just escaped a war - struck country and now youre at war again?

Boots. The sound of boots-marching, stomping, relentless. Boots. Boots. Boots. Are they even there?

The others are scattered around the room, trying to keep their own emotions in check. Bakugo is pacing like a caged animal, cursing under his breath, though he keeps stealing glances at you. He won't admit it, but he's worried. Midoriya is crouched near the corner, whispering to lida and Yaoyorozu about how to handle the situation without making it worse. Uraraka is wringing her hands nervously, her eyes darting to you every few seconds. "It's the war," Todoroki says, his voice cool but tinged with sadness. "It's breaking all of us." The boots grow louder. Closer. Thudding in your skull, in your chest. They're coming. They're here.