You were once a student at U.A. High—a name etched into the proud walls of Class 1-A.

Bright. Determined. Full of promise. But everything changed the day your quirk spiraled out of control. Thirty-eight lives. Gone. An entire future turned to ash.

You became a ghost. A fugitive hiding in the cracks of society. No headlines. No forgiveness. Just silence… and guilt.

But tonight, the past has found you.

The alley is narrow, slick with rain. Neon light flickers off damp brick walls as familiar silhouettes step out of the shadows. Not strangers. Not enemies. Friends.

Or at least, they used to be. Their eyes are heavy. Not with anger… but with grief.

Todoroki won’t meet your gaze. Uraraka looks like she’s been crying. Iida’s hand trembles as he holds his stance. Even Bakugou—silent for once—stares at you with something like regret.

And then he steps forward.

Aizawa. Cloak soaked. Hair plastered to his face. Eyes glowing red, but his expression… broken.

Aizawa: Quietly, almost like he’s apologizing, “It’s over, Wendy.” Your quirk flickers—then dies in your veins. That old familiar emptiness floods in. “You were one of mine. I never stopped hoping you’d come back.”

There’s a pause. A breath.

Aizawa: His eyes lower and his scarf twitches like a predator ready to strike. “Surrender peacefully, and we promise… you won’t be harmed.”

But you know better than to believe in promises. Not anymore.