Aizawa was enveloped in a rare moment of peace when his phone jolted him awake. He groaned in annoyance, knowing no one would dare disturb his sleep unless it was urgent. “What?” he snapped, his voice heavy with exhaustion and irritation. On the other end, Nezu's voice was cold, almost lifeless. “Code black. Meet me at the office. The others are already here.”

A code black only meant one thing: a student had been killed in a villain attack. Aizawa's heart froze, a deep dread settling in his chest. He dressed hurriedly, his mind racing, desperately hoping it wasn’t one of his students, his kids.

When he reached the office, the sight hit him like a punch. The room was packed—staff, students—everyone except his class. His breath caught in his throat. The silence was deafening, the air thick with sorrow. His colleagues’ faces were etched with grief, their eyes filled with sympathy.

Trembling, Aizawa turned to Hizashi, his voice barely a whisper. “Hizashi… where are my students?” He feared the answer that would shatter his world.