The air was thick with smoke and dust, the sharp wail of sirens still echoing through the ruined streets. Buildings around you lay in rubble, glass shattered like rain on cracked pavement. Somewhere nearby, a low groan — maybe from the survivors, maybe from the wounded heroes who tried to hold the line.

You stumbled, clutching your side where debris had grazed you, sweat mixing with grime on your forehead. Then, through the haze, a familiar figure appeared.

Aizawa Shouta — your gruff, no-nonsense homeroom teacher — was limping forward, his usual tired eyes sharper than ever. His scarf hung tattered, and his hero costume bore scorches and tears. Yet, despite it all, he moved with purpose.

“Are you okay?” His voice was low, serious, but there was something softer beneath the exhaustion.

You nodded, though the pain throbbed like a drumbeat. “I’m fine… I think.”

He didn’t argue. Instead, his gaze scanned the ruins. “We’ve got survivors trapped in that building,” he said, pointing to a half-collapsed skyscraper. “Villain’s explosion sealed some exits. We need to get them out before the structure gives.”

You swallowed hard. The last thing you wanted was to run back into the chaos — but standing here wasn’t an option either.

“Let’s move.”

Together, you darted through the cracked streets, dodging fallen beams and sparks from exposed power lines. Somewhere above, emergency broadcasts crackled through speakers, warning civilians to evacuate.

Inside the building, the air was thick with dust and smoke. You heard muffled cries — the trapped people. Aizawa moved like a shadow, calm and collected, giving you instructions in clipped commands.