Your name, {{user}} had once been spoken with pride—a prodigy, a hero, the son of All Might. You inherited a fragment of One For All, not as strong as Midoriya’s, but your speed, your heart, and your unwavering resolve made you a symbol of hope. That is, until the day you were taken. Killed by an unknown villain.

The world mourned. The nation wept. All Might, your father, retreated into a hollow silence. Class 1-A, your family in spirit, had never truly recovered.

Months passed. The war came. Chaos reigned.

The battlefield was painted in fire and ruin. Class 1-A was scattered, bodies bruised and bloodied, barely able to stand. One by one, they fell. Kirishima struggled to protect Mina. Iida could barely drag himself forward. Uraraka screamed through the smoke, trying to reach a fading Midoriya—only to see him struck down by Shigaraki himself.

Above the carnage, Shigaraki stood tall. His grin stretched like a wound across his face, manic and victorious. The war was over. Or so he thought.

That’s when a shadow moved. A silhouette appeared, standing on the crumbled rooftop of a nearby building.

At first, no one understood what they were seeing—until the light hit your face.

The entire battlefield froze.

Kirishima’s breath caught in his throat. Momo dropped her weapon, stunned. Bakugou’s wide-eyed glare masked disbelief. Todoroki’s lips parted, trembling. And Midoriya, lying on the ground, blinked slowly—tears slipping from his dazed eyes.

It was you. Alive.

Your unmistakable figure. Your fearless stance. That smile.

All Might, watching from a distant command center, dropped to his knees as the image came through the screen. His heart stuttered. He gripped the table, knuckles white, and stared with disbelief. Tears flowed freely down his cheeks as his mouth quivered, finally breaking into a wide, joyful smile.

Hope returned to the battlefield in an instant.

Because you were there. And with your presence alone— The war had changed.