Chapter 5: Consequence
Izuku Midoriya slipped back into his apartment, body aching as though he'd been dragged through a grinder. The door shut behind him with a click that felt too loud, too final. Every nerve buzzed with the chaos he had just escaped, echoes of fire, steel, and falling stone hammering through his skull.
Never… never had an encounter with Pro-Heroes spiraled so violently. He didn't go to UA looking for blood. He didn't mean to topple a whole simulated city. He never intended to unleash his Psi-Web vibrations with such reckless force, tearing the earth apart beneath men and women who still thought they were fighting to protect the people.
"God…" He pressed a trembling hand over his face, the mask long gone but its weight still clinging to him. "Please… please tell me nobody died."
Endeavor would live—Izuku knew that much. The man was too stubborn, too unyielding to break. But the others? Ryukyu, Uwabami, the countless Pros and Sidekicks swallowed by rubble when the training grounds gave way? The memory of their panicked faces burned hotter than his wounds.
Guilt gnawed at him relentlessly, but also relief to have managed to escape. Looking at things objectively, the Heroes should've been able to capture him, like Hawks, but the Winged Hero wasn't taking him seriously enough, which gave him a much-needed opening. How strange.
Another thing plaguing his mind was his fight with Stain. One guy gave him more trouble than a whole platoon of Pros. He can't decide which fact was more embarrassing, and for whom exactly. And that poison gas he used during the fight. Normally, Izuku's accelerated healing prevents poison from behind a hazard, but it really did a number on Izuku. Yet another problem to figure out.
'And that sword that could cut my Psi-Webs,' Izuku tried to ponder further, but could not as hunger once again invaded his body.
His stomach twisted painfully, a reminder of the price for survival. To escape UA, he had burned through the last reserves of his speed vibration, running faster than a jet engine to escape the university. Every time he did that, his metabolism flared out of control. The faster he ran, the emptier he became. Now, he was a husk in desperate need of fuel.
He staggered toward the kitchen, forcing his voice steady. "Mom, I'm back."
Inko peeked around the corner, surprise lighting her tired eyes. "Izuku? I thought you'd be late—you said your project needed more time."
He dredged up a half-truth, a weak smile barely holding. "I wanted to be out all day, but I figured it out sooner than I expected. Had an epiphany, I guess."
Not a complete lie since he was prepared to stay in Hosu for the rest of the day in the hunt for Stain, and being teleported back to Musutafu was beyond his ability to prepare for any scenario.
She studied him the way only a mother could—searching, knowing—but chose relief over suspicion. "Well… I'm just glad you're home. Things are getting crazy out there."
Feigning ignorance, Izuku tilted his head. "Crazy how?"
"Well, I was watching the Sports Festival, which was… let's just say the new batch of first years are very energetic," Inko muttered, and by that, most of the time was spent watching Bakugo burn up the majority of the competition and leaving them with smokes and bruises. It was not pleasant to watch. "And when the final match kicked in, things went south."
"You don't say," Her son muttered, unamused by the reminder of what a day he's had.
"It's all over the news, and as previous crises have proven, it'll be all people will talk about all month," Inko said, pointing to their TV that shows today's disaster described by Anchorman, Daikaku Miyagi.
"Breaking news from the UA Sports Festival," Miyagi announced, tone grave yet tinged with disbelief. "The final match was interrupted in a shocking turn of events. The infamous vigilante known as Webjack, alongside the Turbo Hero: Ingenium, stormed the arena. What followed was a campus-wide manhunt, spearheaded by the nation's top Pro-Heroes—a pursuit that ended in catastrophic failure."
Izuku froze, his eyes glued to the screen and awaiting the horror about to be shown to the rest of the world.
"During the chase," Miyagi continued. "Webjack triggered a localized earthquake across UA's Ground Beta. The destruction was immense. Several Heroes were injured. Miraculously, no fatalities have yet been confirmed."
Then the footage rolled.
Izuku's blood ran cold.
There he was, masked and desperate, slipping into Ground Beta as Endeavor cornered him in a storm of fire. The clash exploded across the screen—Psi-Webs glowing green, vibrating against the inferno of Hellflame. Then came the chaos: shockwaves tearing apart buildings, webs straining across rooftops before snapping, the false city buckling and toppling in clouds of concrete dust.
Clips followed, raw and unflinching. Ryukyu cradling a broken wing. Uwabami was half-conscious, blood seeping from beneath her head wrap. Endeavor, one of the prides of the nation, was dragged unconscious from a mound of rubble, barely clinging to life.
Izuku staggered backward. His breath hitched. He'd done this. He'd really done this.
But another thought crept in, sharp and insidious: How did they get this footage?
UA would never release recordings this humiliating, not after such a breach. That meant someone else—someone with power—was recording, waiting, hungry for this exact outcome. His whole disaster had been staged for broadcast.
The broadcast didn't stop. It only snowballed.
News anchor Daikaku Miyagi's voice carried the steady cadence of a man who knew the nation was hanging on every word. Clips from every angle—stadium cameras, spectator phones, drone coverage—flooded the screen.
And the verdict was damning.
"Public response has been swift and divided," Miyagi said gravely. "Many citizens are calling for Webjack's immediate arrest, branding him a menace who endangers both civilians and the heroes sworn to protect them. However…"He paused, as if reluctant to admit it. "… There are also voices of support. For months, Webjack's vigilante activities have saved lives across Musutafu and beyond. In the wake of today's devastation, many argue that the Pro-Heroes themselves have proven less reliable than the very outlaw they seek to capture."
Izuku shifted uncomfortably. His hands clenched in his lap. Hearing the word support in the same breath as the ruin he had caused made bile rise in his throat. Was it luck? Or hypocrisy? He couldn't decide.
The broadcast cut to man-on-the-street interviews.
A woman with a stroller, voice trembling: "That vigilante—Webjack—he pulled my husband out of a fire last winter. I don't care what the law says. He's more of a hero than half the people wearing capes."
Then a middle-aged salaryman, veins standing out on his temple: "He's reckless. Dangerous. How many buildings fell today? My nephew studies at UA—if he'd been crushed, would you still call that heroism?"
The screen fractured into more voices. Some condemned, some praised, but all charged with raw emotion.
Miyagi returned, the image behind him replaced by footage of UA's battered stadium. "Public trust in the Pro-Hero system is wavering. Many ask why so many top-ranked Heroes abandoned the students and spectators to pursue a single vigilante. Others criticize those who remained behind—particularly All Might—for inaction, arguing they failed to stop the League of Villains' interference."
"Wait—what?" Izuku murmured aloud, frowning.
The report clarified:
"It was the villain Kurogiri who warped Webjack and the injured Ingenium into the stadium. Yet some citizens question why the Heroes present—All Might among them—focused on containment rather than capture. Their decision, many argue, tacitly allowed the vigilante to escape."
Inko gasped quietly, covering her mouth. "They're blaming All Might now?"
The footage shifted again, this time to Miyagi seated with two commentators: a stern-faced lawyer and a retired Pro-Hero with graying hair.
"This brings us to a controversial point," Miyagi said. "The Reclamation Initiative."
Izuku's ears pricked. He'd heard rumors of it before.
The lawyer adjusted her glasses. "The Initiative is a process where a proven vigilante can receive pardon for unsanctioned heroics and be granted a provisional license. Other nations employ it successfully. The idea is that someone already risking their life for the public good should be guided, not discarded."
The retired Hero shook his head firmly. "Not in Japan. We've never approved such a case. Vigilantes undermine the Hero system itself. If Webjack is pardoned, it tells every unlicensed wannabe they can play hero and be rewarded for it."
Miyagi nodded solemnly. "Indeed, the Public Safety Hero Commission released a statement earlier today, denouncing even the suggestion of pardon after today's catastrophe. They argue that allowing Webjack to continue—even under license—would further destabilize public faith."
Izuku felt heat rising in his chest, not anger, not quite. Something more tangled. Relief that the possibility existed. Resentment that it was already being shut down. And shame—shame that part of him wondered if taking the Initiative might… make things easier.
The commentators kept debating, voices rising. Supporters called Webjack proof that the system needed reform. Opponents insisted he was a threat to be stamped out before copycats rose. The screen filled with scrolling comments from viewers: "Pardon him!" clashed with "Lock him up forever!" in real time.
Finally, Miyagi closed the segment, his tone grave. "Whatever the verdict, one truth cannot be denied: today marks a turning point. Hero Society as we know it is under scrutiny, and Webjack stands at the heart of that storm."
"Now all of a sudden the world isn't making sense anymore," Inko nearly gasped once it was mentioned. Being a common citizen, she never put too much thought into the happenings of Heroes, blindly trusting that they know what they are doing, so screw-ups like this are a bigger deal for those like her.
"Oh, things have been spiraling towards this for some time. I just thought that things could have been better managed than this," Izuku uttered with hopelessness.
'The League. They brought me to the stadium to further worsen the public's distrust of the heroes in favor of me,' He realized, with thoughts darker than that crawling into his mind. 'The attack on the USJ was just the start. Even if that footage hadn't been leaked, the fact alone that Villains broke into a school meant to train future heroes would have been enough to put cracks in the public's faith, and whoever the League's leader is, it's not the hand guy, but someone vastly intelligent who knows how to turn failures into boons for future benefit.'
His darker thoughts took hold, and they reminded him of another situation. Stain was still in Hosu.
'Oh no…'
On impulse, without thinking clearly, he grabbed the remote for the TV and changed channels quickly to the one broadcasting news from other cities in Japan, one that cannot be ignored by the whole country. He finds what he expected, bearing witness to a massacre.
Footage shows how more than one street has been laid in ruins, fires burning out of control, and there are many deceased, only Pro-Heroes with no citizens among them, thankfully.
A reporter is shown reporting the disaster.
"We interrupt our regular programming to bring you a developing and tragic situation in Hosu City. The Pro-Heroes of Hosu, once known for their unwavering dedication, have been met with a devastating attack!" The fear in her eyes was apparent; she could not behave professionally in this situation, especially as she was reporting live from a helicopter.
Footage shows chaos in Hosu City, with Nomu wreaking havoc. Some of it was recorded from the phones of citizens, while the rest was shown from the view of helicopters.
"The Creature responsible for this madness is confirmed to be the same one who was involved in the USJ Incident at UA University that has returned and begun laying waste to Hosu, primarily attacking the Heroes while ignoring bystanders. The situation is dire, with reports indicating that nearly all of Hosu's hero force has fallen."
Cut to interviews with witnesses and survivors. All are horrified.
"That thing! It was like watching All Might in action, but villainous with a desire for Carnage!"
"This is a nightmare! The heroes fought as hard as they could, but that monster… It's unstoppable."
"I never thought I'd see the day when our heroes would be overwhelmed like this."
'What have I done?' Izuku thought in horror, unable to ignore the fact that this all happened because the League was trying to get to him.
"This… can't be happening," Tensei said weakly, looking like he was in a trance.
He was taken to UA's main building, within the Teachers' Lounge, as he and the majority of the Staff were watching the recent news on how a significant portion of Hosu has been ravaged.
There, the Nomu was caught on camera continuing his rampage, tearing buildings to the ground before becoming engulfed in a black mist and disappearing.
"The Hero Public Safety Commission has yet to release an official statement on the situation. Questions about the origin and purpose of this devastating attack remain unanswered. As the city grapples with this tragedy, we can't help but wonder about the implications for Hero Society as a whole. The loss of so many heroes in a single incident raises questions about the strength and resilience of our hero system."
"That damn thing again," Aizawa growled, recalling his close call with death because of the Nomu, and seeing it again made him ache with rage. All of them were on edge.
'That monster,' Toshinori, in his deflated form, lay there frozen with negative emotions, also clutching the wound on his stomach that he hides from the world. 'That was meant to fight and kill me in the USJ. If so, then… only I could've stopped it.'
From the moment he heard word that Stain was going to be in Hosu, he knew he had to go and capture the Hero Killer himself, but he promised his new colleagues that after he failed to arrive in time in the USJ, he would prioritize the well-being of the students, hence why he stayed to safeguard the Sports Festival. And now…
'All those people. Those noble heroes… I could have saved them.'
"My colleagues… my Sidekicks… I have to go," Tensei uttered in an almost frantic rush to leave, but was stopped by Aizawa and Kan, who blocked his path and held him by his shoulders.
"Don't be irrational. It's too late for anyone here to help them," Shota cautioned.
"I can't just sit here and do nothing! My sidekicks are fighting for their lives, while I'm miles away from them when they need me," Tensei argued.
"Come to your senses, man. All you'll accomplish is make your younger brother worry for your wellbeing even more, and based on what Nemuri said, he didn't take the info about your fight with Stain very well," Kan reminded, and at the mention of Tenya, the Turbo Hero's nerves lessen somewhat, enough that the two teachers stopped applying pressure to his shoulders.
"Tensei, you should know that everyone here understands what you're going through," Nemuri said more gently as she stepped forward to Tensei. "The situation is awful, yes, but we can't go around all frantic while losing hope. You'll just make everyone else more scared."
Tensei relented, giving out a sigh of defeat, his mind clear enough to acknowledge that there's nothing he could do for Hosu. "I need to clear my head."
"Good, we can all use some fresh air," Nemuri said, offering to take Tensei outside to relax and most likely take him to talk some more with Tenya. They can already tell things will get a hell of a lot harder for the Turbo Hero, so he will need his family's support.
"Good thing he left now, because there's more to this sorry tale and he definitely shouldn't be seeing this right now," Snipe said as the helicopter reporting the disaster caught something, a black mist that All Might, Eraserhead, and Thirteen recognized as Kurogiri as he, Nomu and Tomura appear next to a water tank, with Tomura standing on top of it.
"That punk again," Aizawa cursed.
The helicopter got closer, which is ridiculously stupid given the danger of being attacked by Nomu, but luckily, Tomura wanted to get their attention and had something to say.
The Apprentice to the Symbol of Evil wasn't given all the details of the plans with Webjack and Stain, other than having the Nomu go on a rampage on Hosu, and he and Kurogiri were to oversee the carnage, ending things with Tomura giving a speech to the news.
He recalls Master's words, "This is a very important task you need to succeed in, Tomura. You must begin gathering the villainous elite to help you with your goals. After all, every strong commander needs strong people to help him do the job, and no one will ignore a True Villain inside a warzone."
Once the news helicopters were there, Tomura began his speech, "Good afternoon, Japan, I'm Tomura Shigaraki. Leader of the League of Villains."
News stations from all around the country cut their regular broadcast to get an exclusive on what the villain was going to say, and so did radio stations. The villain continued to speak, "And I AM HERE… to give you a message." All eyes were plastered on him as higher-ups in all authorities were trying to cut the broadcast off.
Tomura then opened his arms and said, "Today, we saw how heroes are ineffective as they couldn't stop the attack on Hosu. The damages that this city suffered will take ages to recover from, and many people were injured and nearly all your Heroes dead. But worse, some heroes caused more good than bad by reckless acts, favoring to rescue people while the cameras were on them, and escaping from the scene altogether. This is the tip of the iceberg of this false hero society that has been controlling lives for all these years."
Tomura smiled as some reporters were using their phones to film him, "This society has placed a mold for us to work forward as if everything that they do is right, and everything that we do is wrong. This society has placed on us standards that we are forced to live up to unless we want to be thrown aside, and they succeeded in doing so. Tell me how many people have been kicked out of their families due to their quirk that didn't fit the mold? Tell me, how many times have heroes kicked away hopeful hero applicants just because their Quirk wasn't flashy or strong? How many times have heroes looked with disgust at people with Heteromorphic Quirks or villainous quirks? How many times have people with a seemingly "villainous" quirk been kicked to the curb due to being mistaken for a villain? And what about the Quirkless, who didn't ask to be born different but were still kicked down like a disease, and not for being people like you and me? We must put an end to this." Shigaraki clenched his fist, raising it.
The man then carried on, "That's what Stain was working against. Instead of heeding Stain's warnings, they chose to hunt him down like a dog. That's why I want to announce that we," He looked directly at the news reporters, "Us, the League of Villains, will work with Stain to fix this broken world. We will make a better future for everyone, so everyone who shares Stain's ideology, please join us so we can work as one to destroy this hero society."
"Young Master. The guest of honor is here," Kurogiri said with haste, but quiet enough that only Tomura could hear him, looking to their left to see the Hero Killer at a distance, crouching on the edge of another building, a rageful glare on his bloodied face while holding two daggers fresh with blood.
"And there he is! And it looks like he caught a few fakes trying to run away from their duties," Tomura sneered as all attention from the news turned to the Hero Killer, and as Tomura said, it was clear that he had just gotten back from claiming the lives of more Pros in Hosu.
Stain didn't stick around for long, choosing to exit the scene and return to the shadows.
"I don't think he appreciates our claim of being his allies against Hero Society," Kurogiri bemused.
"Who cares," Tomura sneered, jumping out of the water tank, and now speaking in a low voice so that no one else hears him. "He's just a means to an end. If he decides to join us, hurray! If not, we'll toss him aside like the martyr he is. As "heroically" as possible to gain more sympathizers. Now it's time to go home."
"Of course," Kurogiri said as he warped himself, Tomura, and the Nomu back to their hideout.
"I call bullshit on all he's spewed," Hizashi snorted after listening to what Tomura said, and turned off the TV once the news continued going crazy because of the latest information.
"It doesn't matter what the actual truth is; there are far too many who will take that troubled young man's words as the definitive truth," Nezu sighed, feeling his vitality leave him from all the stress they are going through.
"Toshinori, you said that it's likely that the League wanted Webjack to fight Stain, right?" Ectoplasm asked Yagi about a theory he brought up earlier.
"Yeah. I can't think of any other possibility as to why Kurogiri would be there and warp Webjack into the stadium. Of course, it doesn't make any sense why they would go through all the trouble when they can just send that monster to go on a rampage and ignore Stain altogether," Toshinori tried to speculate.
"We might've gotten some answers if you had gone to grab the kid yourself," Aizawa mused.
"I couldn't. You saw the state most of Class 1-A was in when they saw Kurogiri's Quirk in the arena, especially Young Ashido and Young Koda," Toshinori frowned, unable to get the image of Mina and Koji being so traumatized by what Kurogiri did to them. Fumikage put on a strong face, but it's obvious that he's also shaken.
"I would prefer not to pass judgment on the matter, and at the moment all we have are speculations, and only one of them is concrete," Nezu suggested that his faculty focus on another matter.
"And that would be?" Kan asked.
"The tip the Police received about Stain's whereabouts. Detective Tsukauchi informed me an hour ago about how he followed a lead, confirming that the leak is someone with ties to the Underworld. A petty criminal, but it is odd that any evildoer would want a man wanted for murdering Heroes to be captured," Nezu explained.
"Maybe the leak is a relative of one of the dead heroes and cared enough to want revenge," Hizashi pointed out.
"Naomasa considered that, but he is more confident that he was hired to set up a bait for a special prey,"
"And it all comes back to the Web-Slinger. The League wanted the kid to fight Stain, but until we figure out why we're at a dead end," Thirteen groaned.
"Maybe not," Nemuri said as she returned from escorting Tensei outside and left him with his brother, Tenya, while she came back here as quickly as possible and heard some of what was being discussed.
"Before Mirko went dominatrix on the festival arena, I noticed Webjack had already sustained injuries before he showed up, among them was one on his right shoulder, and it looked like a large needle was forcefully shoved in," She informed. "Tensei mentioned that before he engaged Stain, he was already fighting Jackie, so does that lunatic use any weapon similar to a needle or a dart?"
"None, as far as I know, but one thing that I was sure of before Ingenium confirmed it for me was that Stain's Quirk is Vampiric, so it would make sense for him to try and get blood samples of his intended victims before hunting them down. Of course, blood samples of every Pro that was collected for medical purposes are kept under tight security in every hospital, which I doubt he would be bold enough to try and steal and risk blowing the element of surprise," Nezu added. "You thinking it was someone from the League that did that?"
"We have to believe it if we want clarity," Toshinori said.
"So the League did all that, laid Hosu in ruins, and killed dozens of Heroes just to get a sip of some Vigilante's blood? That doesn't make any sense," Cementoss said, not getting the picture.
"Or perhaps it does. Aizawa?" Nezu said, turning to the most stubborn member of the faculty.
It only took a split second for the Erasure Hero to realize what the Dean wanted him to say and was quick to reply.
"The USJ was the first time I interacted with Webjack, but it wasn't the only time I've seen him up close. During the fourth month since his debut, I was patrolling Musutafu at night, and while searching the street from a rooftop for criminal activity, I saw him, "wall strolling," you could say, on the building on the other side of the street, texting someone on a phone for a bit before he put it away in that utility belt he keeps hidden under his costume. He then noticed me and waved a hand in recognition, as though he knew who I was before swinging away,"
"And you didn't try to catch him?" Kan questioned.
"Of course, I tried, I used my Quirk on him the millisecond I saw him, and we were close enough that it should've worked and started falling from the building and into the streets below, but nothing happened. I tried getting in closer by swinging myself to the other side of the street, but Erasure wasn't working," Aizawa said, still feeling sore about the whole thing. "When he swung away, I followed after him, but I lost him after he jumped into an alleyway, and now I'm sure it's because of his camouflage."
"So he has a Heteromorphic Quirk. Lots of animal-based powers are of the heteromorphic variety," Thirteen noted.
"Not lots. All of them. Every Spider-related power in recorded history has exhibited animalistic traits that are impossible to hide with a costume like the one he uses, like extra limbs. If he had extra eyes, it would explain why he always saw an attack coming from behind, but why have only two eye lenses placed on the mask? And those webs of his are psionic in nature, on that we can all agree on, but even Heteromorphic Quirks can be subjugated by my Erasure; it all depends on how deep their mutation is, and if I am correct in believing that Webjack looks completely normal behind the costume, then his Quirk shouldn't be immune to mine unless…"
"His powers aren't based on a Quirk," Nezu concluded, giving everyone pause.
"Are you… You're serious right now, Nezu?" Hizashi asked with scrutiny.
"I know it sounds irrational, but my counterargument to that would be that even after over a hundred years, we still haven't figured out the exact reason why Quirks came to be. Either because of a governmental experiment, wizardry, aliens, or the will of God. If we can't pinpoint the origin of the supernatural that became part of our natural lives, what's to stop other unnatural evolutions from occurring in the world?" The Wise Dean stated.
"That's a fair argument, and there are plenty of people who still hold on to the belief that Quirks are mythical in nature, and there have been rare cases of Quirks not functioning the way they're supposed to when considering the exact type it should be," Toshinori nodded. "Though, I still don't see how Webjack is this new breed of Metahuman."
"Me neither, but I think we can all agree that our dear Web-Slinger is a fine specimen in more ways than just being worthy of being called a Hero for having a fine combination of brain, brawn, and compassion. His powers remain undetermined, that I would consider it an enigma as perplexing as yours, Toshinori," Nezu continued. "I do not believe that he has more than one Quirk, and whatever Support Gears he may be using, they're not suited for combat. His strength is one of quality with a few external perks brought by his keen mind."
"Regardless, this League of Villains sees him as someone worth keeping around. It matters not that he intends to hunt them down," Aizawa said. "He's an unwilling pawn in their game, so I'm sure he feels the same way as Iida."
"Unwilling or willing, he got played real good. The backlash we're getting is on a whole other level," Snipe sighed, receiving a lot of text concerning the public's outcry. "The floodgates have completely opened, and the only silver lining, if it can even be called that, is that UA is getting less of it this time."
"I knew having Mirko and the rest to guard the Festival was going to bite at us real hard," Aizawa hissed.
"Hey, Nezu made a good argument and was right about Webjack going to Hosu," Cementoss defended the Dean's choice.
"Again, that doesn't matter. What does matter is that we need to handle the negative impact quickly because it's not just the public but even our students are being affected by this," Aizawa shrugged.
Both Eraserhead and Vlad King overheard most of the conversation between their respective classes and grew concerned when they started doubting their time in UA because of the fear of being overshadowed by Webjack in their future careers as Pro-Heroes.
A situation they saw coming, but had hoped that the students would have more resilience on the matter, but how could they not give in to doubt after witnessing so many Pros fail spectacularly against one boy?
"How certain are we that putting the kid through the Reclamation Initiative is going to solve everything? Just because the Commission hasn't made a move yet doesn't mean they won't, and it's going to be bloody," Aizawa warned.
"I know, and the reason why they've been seemingly quiet is that they are preoccupied with searching for the runaway from Tartarus," Nezu explained.
"She's still at large?" Kan asked, surprised by this revelation.
"I'm surprised as well, but then again, why are we? This is her we're talking about,"
"True enough, it's understandable why the President would want to keep her lips shut, but for all we know, she's fled the country," Snipe suggested.
"No, she's still in Japan. It would be unbecoming of her to leave things unsettled," Nezu said with a somber tone.
"How certain are you that she wants to kill anyone?" Toshinori asked apprehensively.
"I'm not sure what she's planning, but what I do know is that she is a woman of purpose and not the type to wander around aimlessly. She has something in mind and is waiting for the chance to move forward. The only thing I can be certain of is that she needs help, and for now, she's alone,"
"Poor her, but for the sake of staying on track, what are we going to do about the outcry, and have we found out anything about that unknown helicopter that was recording everything?" Aizawa demanded.
"Only that the one who did the recording works for the League, but they disappeared with no way to track them. Likely because of Kurogiri," Thirteen lamented.
"We at least have confirmation that this was all their doing. Now we just need a better plan to catch them before they cause more harm," Toshinori said with more resolve to settle this disaster.
"That was a fine speech, Tomura," All For One from the monitor in their bar spoke, praising his apprentice's performance.
"It could've been better, but I got a little overexcited," Tomura said sheepishly.
"And yet the results are exactly as I predicted. Our acolytes in the Police Force and Media have assured me that panic and chaos are rising unimpeded. We'll be getting new comrades by the dozens in the coming weeks," All For One grinned in triumph. "The only one whom I haven't heard anything from yet is Giran. He is most of what I am counting on to ensure that we receive the right men for your new Vanguard."
"The more players for my New Game Plus, the better, but what about Stain and Jackie? We need to do something about that loser, lurking around in alleyways like a rat who could eventually tell everyone that he's not our pawn, and you still haven't told me the whole point of luring the bug into Hosu," Tomura questioned.
"Oh, I'm sure Mr. Akaguro will see the benefit in keeping this charade for a while longer, and as for the Vigilante, merely another twist of the knife to test his worth. The Doctor has only just begun conducting his new tests, so I don't have any answers yet. What I can tell you is that if my new curiosity turns out to be true, we may have another reason to keep the boy alive and swinging freely."
"How wonderful," Tomura said sarcastically. "Still, nothing that can ruin my day, except we still haven't gotten to talking with the Hero Killer."
"No innocent bystander was caught in the rampage, so he might not be beyond reasoning," Kurogiri replied.
"Right, you are. Today was a victory, and as such, we need to lie low for a while. That said, you two must start packing. Kamino may no longer be an optimal place to stay safe. The Police may be overshadowed by the Heroes, but that doesn't mean we should underestimate them. One more stunt and they'll be right on our trail."
"I'll begin preparations at once," Kurogiri complied. "Our next hideout in Kuraudo City should be the hardest to detect for now."
"I wanna move to Hando next. The latest game I've been wanting to buy is easier to come by there," Tomura objected childishly as always.
"Go wherever you wish, as long as you remember to keep your head down, Tomura. All Might and his cronies are mad at us this time, so don't start catching fire so soon," All For One teased.
"Oh, I don't intend to get burned so soon, but I will start some fireworks of my own when I get the chance, and it'll rain with ashes when I'm done," Tomura gave a sickening grin in response.
Today just might have been the best day so far. He got to send his Nomu out on a rampage that claimed the lives of so many Heroes and got to see some more be made fools of themselves for failing to catch Webjack. He may hate the arachnid vigilante, but he can't deny that he's pretty cool when he's in action, and it's even cooler when his potential is pointed at the Heroes.
All the same, when the time finally arrives, he will kill the bastard and everyone he loves.
Shoto Todoroki sat in a chair that felt too cheap for the moment, hands folded like a man trying to fold himself away from the world. The fluorescent lights of Musutafu Central Hospital hummed overhead, sterile and indifferent. Beside him, Fuyumi's fingers trembled against her mug; she hadn't moved since they'd sat down, gaze fixed on the far wall where a flatscreen replayed the disaster at Ground Beta on an endless loop.
He told himself not to watch, and yet the footage had a way of seeding itself into every corner of his head: Concrete splitting like old wood, simulated streets buckling, Pro-Heroes swallowed by clouds of dust. And the image that lodged like a splinter—Endeavor, clawed from the rubble, hauled out on a makeshift gurney as sirens wailed and Webjack's green-lit webs streaked the air.
Shoto did not believe he was supposed to feel anything simple. When the clips had first hit the feeds, something cold and small had slid into his chest—an emotion he never named aloud. Satisfaction? Relief? A grim, private calculation that the world might tilt toward normalcy if their father were finally removed from its axis. He had rehearsed that relief in private, like a student practicing a forbidden quirk, telling himself it was rational, even fair. After years of fire and bruises and a childhood written in orders and flames, the thought of peace without Endeavor's presence had become part of him.
But when the rumble in his gut swelled at the idea that his father might actually be gone, Shoto found he couldn't call it triumph. The feeling was more complicated—hollow at the center, as if whatever satisfaction he'd expected was paper-thin when turned to light. He had imagined a quiet settling, not the loud, public calamity that would stain the world with other people's grief. Even now, sitting there, he could not summon the joy he'd promised himself.
"What are you thinking?" Fuyumi's voice was that soft, careful thing she used when talking to a child. Her eyes were rimmed red, but she'd forced them open, like a lantern kept lit against the dark. She wanted the family to be held together, to latch onto any thread of reconciliation. She wanted to believe that this could be the fresh start they'd been taught to dream about in quieter years.
Shoto felt no anger at her hope. He felt a fierce, almost parental urge to protect it from himself.
"Everything… I guess," He said, and the words were all he allowed.
A doctor approached, white coat moving like a small island through the river of hospital staff. They straightened automatically, because that was what people did in the presence of an authority who held the day's verdict. The doctor's face was practiced into neutrality, the kind of armor that kept families on the other side of bad news from keeling over in public.
"He's stable," The Doctor said. "Consciousness is returnable. We've got him sedated, and Recovery Girl is on her way to assist with immediate treatment."
Fuyumi let out a sound halfway between a sob and a laugh, and Shoto felt the chair beneath him tremble as if empathy had become a physical thing. Relief flooded her face like the sun through a window. She reached for his hand first, fingers clinging like ivy. For a moment, Shoto allowed himself to mimic her relief—because the sight of her relief looked almost like a heal in motion.
Natsuo's text—short, cold—sat on the phone in Shoto's pocket like a coal. He'd said he wouldn't be coming, that he didn't want to see their father even on his deathbed. His response was unsurprising, but it did set something in Fuyumi's throat, and she'd swallowed it; family fractures were not healed by performances of virtue. Shoto understood Natsuo's distance. He felt the same. He's only here for Fuyumi.
"Will he… be okay?" Fuyumi asked, turning to Shoto. Her voice was paper-thin with the weight of wanting truth without wanting the wounds to open.
"He's strong," Shoto said. That was both a fact and a lie. Endeavor's body had been built by years of exertion and tempering. The man had survived storms that would strip paint from the sky. But strength did not grant immunity. Strength did not inoculate from irony or from the cunning designs of someone who had sought to dismantle the Symbol of Peace by any means.
"Recovery Girl will help," The Doctor added, trying to soothe. "We'll do everything we can. He'll be closely guarded; his condition merits it."
Close-guardedness in that wing of the hospital was not a courtesy. It was a fortress. That section—set aside for Pro-Heroes—was ringed by private security, and tonight it would feel like Fortified Ground. Three of Endeavor's more loyal sidekicks stood watch outside his room like living torches, faces sculpted in grinding resolve. Villains sometimes tried to stage assassination attempts in hospitals; the prospect of taking down a top-ten hero while he lay vulnerable had once been the stuff of legend for the bold and the foolish. Now, those legends would be barred at every entrance.
Inside the room, Endeavor should have been sleeping. The sedatives were doing their best to drag his flames into quiet, to tether his Quirk from flaring; Recovery Girl's treatment protocol leaned on that very control. But being awake didn't come naturally to him tonight. The man was wide-eyed and burning with an anger that no pharmaceutical could smother. He lay with bandages and monitors, but it was his mind that refused to be still.
His humiliation—Endeavor's greatest fear—was a live coal in his chest. For years, his rage had focused on All Might, that impossible golden standard who had denied him the top spot. That wound had bruised him behind closed doors. But now there was a new axis for his fury: Webjack, the green-lit outlaw who had made a mockery of him twice. The Vigilante had not merely bested him in combat; he had been flung into the public record, etching the failure into every feed and conversation across the country.
"You'll regret this," Endeavor muttered, so low it was almost a prayer and almost a threat. His voice was a rough rasp even under sedation. The sidekicks outside stiffened; the word was a live thing. "When I get back—when I can move—the webs will burn. I will burn the very name until no corner of Japan will know peace without the smell of flame."
Night didn't care about headlines. It fell the same on Musutafu whether the city was praising a vigilante or tearing him down. Rain came hard and quick, drumstick rain that stung the face and washed the concrete clean of yesterday's dust. For Izuku, that storm felt less like weather and more like permission—permission to disappear into the cold and work until the sky cleared.
He hadn't slept. He hadn't even tried. The news loop had been merciless: Ground Beta in ruin, heroes injured, Webjack painted as both menace and miracle depending on the channel. But the anger that should have been aimed at his own hands—his guilt for the quake that swallowed pro-heroes and dragged the public into panic—turned razor-sharp and pointed elsewhere.
The League of Villains had baited him, used him like a hammer against the façades of a broken system. He would not let that be the last word.
When Inko finally turned in and the apartment grew quiet, Izuku dressed in the same thrifted jacket he always used between identities and slipped into the night. The Spider Sanctuary waited the way a lab waits for a surgeon: cold lights, the smell of ozone and oil, mountains of scavenged components stacked like islands. Junk meant for the landfill had become his arsenal. Old support braces, busted servos, and a smashed Smartglass lens that still flickered like it remembered cinema—all of it laid out with a teacher's precision.
Outside, the storm moved on. Inside, Izuku became a force of concentration. He worked with the surgeon's calm of someone who'd practiced the same motion until muscle memory predated thought. Circuit paths were traced with the same careful script he'd used for past schematics.
Screws were tightened in the spaces between his knuckles, solder flowed like melted promise. The heart of the night's obsession grew beneath his hands: a small black cylinder, no longer than a penlight, matte and absurdly ordinary for something that felt like a loaded answer.
Next to it lay his prize: a miniaturized graphene supercapacitor the size of a thumb—a piece of theft and ingenuity that made him smile despite the exhaustion. He'd "confiscated" it from a villain with a taste for high-end hardware; the man had bragged too loudly about a device he called "pocket lightning."
Izuku had a talent for listening where others didn't, and he'd walked away with the core.
The supercapacitor's surface held an ugly beauty: a microscopic lattice like a city map, capable of bleeding energy into hungry things. Miniaturizing it, armoring it, making that lattice mean more than a single flash of power had taken him nights of calculations and hands raw from solder.
The trick wasn't just the capacitor itself. The trick was making something that needed serious juice fit into a costume built for agility and stealth. He'd spent days redesigning his suit's lining: micro-pockets sewn with Geno-Fiber mesh—thread made from a crude extraction of his own DNA and scavenged polymer—that could cradle a credit-card-sized storage plate.
The plate would act as a reservoir and a bus, delivering the capacitor's release in controlled pulses. When you're the kind of person who builds an entire tactical cloak out of dumpster finds, the fine line between genius and madness is really just the difference between getting the math right and getting crushed under a prototype's failure.
He charged the cylinder by hand, the capacitors humming like an insect caught in a jar. LEDs traced a slow heartbeat along its length as it drank the stolen energy. The device's surface was warm in his palm; it felt promising and dangerous, like a match in a dry theater.
He should have tested it. He should have been methodical. He should have run the numbers, set mock scenarios, taken a dummy target, and tuned the output until the device purred instead of screamed.
But he couldn't test it on himself. Not in the way he wanted.
"I don't have a Quirk," He muttered, and the words sat in the shop like a confession he'd half-expected to make before.
The city's heroocracy had a vocabulary that measured people by whether something sparkled in their genes. Even now, with psionic webs and vibrating speed at his command, he still felt like an outsider enough to call himself Quirkless when it suited the truth.
That limitation tugged at a dozen new problems. How would the device react to biological feedback? What if the psionic field interfered? What if the Geno-Fiber he'd woven into the suit caused a resonance that fried the circuit? He ran simulations in his head, fingers drumming rhythms against the bench top: worst-case scenarios, mitigation strategies, escape vectors. The calculus was beautiful—and terrifying.
He had resources, yes. He had the sanctuary, the tools, the grudging genius that had kept him alive against monsters and Heroes alike. What he didn't have was a controlled test subject. He needed an external variable: someone reliable, trustworthy, and unafraid of being sucked into his orbit. That narrowed the field in a way his thrumming brain hated—there weren't that many people he trusted with a potential bomb in a cylinder.
Outside, rain smacked the corrugated roof like someone impatiently drumming their fingers. Inside, the cylinder blinked as if approving. Izuku breathed out, the storm's air gone into his lungs and replaced with a steadier resolve.
"I need to lay low, so to speak," He told the empty room. The truth was practical: he needed allies, and he needed them stealthily. He could try to keep everything to himself and die on the island of his own brilliance, or he could recruit a human stabilizer—someone whose presence could substitute for the missing Quirk in a test protocol: a pair of hands to hold the variables steady, a calm voice when something went wrong.
He slid the black cylinder back into the palm of his hand and felt the small hum of stored purpose. Whatever it was, it wouldn't be the miracle-solver he'd imagined. This was a lever, not a revelation. A way to shift a few degrees.
He let his breath fog for a second in the Sanctuary's cold. Then, with the quiet ridiculousness of a man half-exhausted and half-certain, he whispered, not to the room but to himself: "I need help. And I know just the right gal to get me out of this mess."
Outside, the rain softened and then eased into a hush, as if the city itself paused to listen.
After the disastrous ending to the Sports Festival, the students were given a two-day break from the University to rest and clear their heads from everything that had happened, but because of the increasing doubts, many of the Heroes in Training could hardly relax. At least by themselves.
"Alright! At last, we can begin the first annual A and B Get-Together!" Mina cheered as she entered the Kiyashi Ward Shopping Mall, filled with many stores that sell items that are designed for different body types and Quirks.
Accompanying her are most of 1-A and several members of 1-B. With the uncertainty that weighed down on all of them, they found comfort in sticking together, and as such, Mina, along with Setsuna Tokage, came up with the idea that before they returned to UA, they would join together and hang out as a way to keep themselves relaxed and joyful. They didn't pick the Mall to shop for anything in particular, only that it was considered the best and perfect spot to start this union of future heroes.
Not everyone could join, like Katsuki, who refused to attend anything that would distract him from his efforts to become the #1 Hero, though they could all tell that his main focus is trying to calm himself and not blow a tantrum over the humiliation he endured. Mineta was banned from joining when he was told about it because he wouldn't stop fantasizing about how attractive the girls of 1-B are, try as he did to cry and beg to join. Koji is still too shy and nervous to be around others, so a no-go with him as well.
"This is definitely the best place for a union of men," Kirishima declared.
"I know! I'm so excited!" Tetsutetsu, a student with an identical Quirk and mindset to Kirishima, boasted.
"Why did I let you idiots talk me into this?" Togaru growled, already regretting tagging along. Beside him, Shihai Kuroiro is of a similar mind.
"I'm more surprised that you agree to tag along, Todoroki," Momo commented to Shoto beside her.
"Well, you asked me right in front of my sister, who can sometimes be successful with her persuasion," Shoto mused, initially disinterested in this get-together, but Fuyumi was determined to make sure her brother never missed out on a chance to forge strong bonds.
"I'm excited to have fun with everybody!" Pony Tsunotori uttered; her trouble with the same language as her classmates was evident due to being a foreign exchange student.
"First order of business is a good old fast food," Mina declared. "Who's paying?"
"Of course, the stuck-up members of 1-A would think to make us of the superior class waste our money," Neito Monoma hissed, the one who was, or more accurately, the only one who was against this idea because of his one-sided rivalry between his class and 1-A. "What else could I have ex—"
Monoma is silenced with a neck chop by an annoyed Kendo, knocking him out cold.
"You never learn," She sighed.
"Is that a constant with him?" Denki asked.
"Yes, but he's nicer than he seems. I insist on ignoring his hot air. He admires Vlad King and adopted his one-sided rivalry with your teacher,"
"I feel sorry for your teacher for having to put up with ours for as long as he has," Kyoka mused.
"Control yourselves! I know we all agree to this wondrous occasion for the sake of strengthening our comradery but that does not excuse us from being a bother to everyone else in this Mall," Tenya raised his voice to bring order to his fellow students, never mind the fact that he is the one causing a disturbance to everyone else in the Mall, especially with his habit of chopping the air.
"Glad and not glad to see you're feeling like yourself again, Iida," Mina bemused before turning her attention to the union's guest of honor, who is one of the two semi-finalists, Ochaco Uraraka, looking like the outsider of the group by how nervous she seems to be and has been since she was invited.
"Hey, what's with the sour face? This is a celebration for us all for doing so amazingly," The Acid Girl insisted, walking onto Ochaco and wrapping an arm around her shoulders.
"I know, but this still feels rather odd since I'm the only one from 1-C that was invited," Ochaco muttered.
"We also invited your boyfriend, but he clearly has zero social skills."
"MIDORIYA'S NOT MY—Oh wait… Shinso's not my boyfriend," Ochaco began to get more flustered and panicky, but was quick to compose herself and unknowingly clarified things with Hitoshi better than she could've intended if she had spoken rationally.
"Oh, so there is someone else at play here, eh?" Mina teased, amused by Ochaco putting herself in an even worse sinkhole.