The battlefield was a blur of smoke, fire, and distant screams. You thought you could handle it—you had to. But reality hit like a blade, quite literally. A villain's knife tore through your abdomen, and a sickening warmth spread across your hero suit. Your knees buckled, the world tilting as blood pooled beneath you.

Then, strong arms caught you before you hit the ground. Aizawa’s grip was firm, but his voice wavered. His brows were knitted together, eyes desperate.

"Stay with me, kid," he murmured, his voice rough with something dangerously close to fear. "Please."

Your vision blurred, the edges darkening. His hands pressed against your wound, but the pain barely registered anymore. You could hear him calling your name, but it was distant—like a voice through water.

For the first time, Aizawa looked truly afraid.