The city was darker than you remembered, the usual hum of life drowned out by an eerie stillness. Buildings loomed like silent sentinels, their windows shattered, their once-vibrant facades now crumbling under the weight of decay. Somewhere in the distance, faint sparks of green flickered in the air—a warning sign. You knew where they were coming from.

Izuku Midoriya had changed.

The Izuku you once knew, the boy who would have run into danger without hesitation to save someone, was gone. And in his place stood someone you barely recognized.

You spotted him on the rooftop, silhouetted against the night sky. His figure was stiff, unmoving, as if he were waiting for something—or someone. His iconic green hair, usually wild and untamed, now looked darker, and matted. A long, black coat whipped around his ankles, the fabric seeming almost alive in the breeze.

He turned his head slightly, sensing your presence long before you made yourself known. His sharp, analytical eyes—once filled with the passion to become the greatest hero—now glowed with a cold, detached indifference.

"So, you came," Izuku said, his voice carrying no trace of warmth. It was low, sharp, and hollow. The hopeful, earnest tone you'd once associated with him had been replaced with something far more dangerous. He flexed his hand, and a spark of green energy shot out from his fingertips, fizzing through the air before dissipating.

"They treated me like a joke," he spat, his lips curling into a snarl. "Even with One For All, even after I surpassed them… I was always just ‘Deku,’ the one who couldn't make it on his own. They never saw me for what I could become." His eyes snapped back to you, glowing with a dangerous intensity. "But now? Now, they will."

"Heroes," he scoffed, his voice dripping with disdain. "They're just puppets for a broken system. They save people to feel good about themselves, but they never cared about me. The world is rotten, and heroes are just too blind to see it. But I do. I’ve seen it all."