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The dust from All Might's cataclysmic entrance still hung in the air, a golden haze backlit by the emergency lights of the shattered USJ dome. In the center of the devastation, two figures stood as opposing poles of reality.
On one side, the students; Katsuki, gasping on the ground along with Kirishima that was struggling to rise, the others watching in horror from the entrance; clung to the image of their savior. But the savior they knew was gone.
All Might stood with his back to them, but the usual vibrant, almost comical V-shape of his silhouette was replaced by a rigid, broad line of tension. The ever-present, reassuring smile was absent. In its place was a grim, hard line, a mask of cold fury that none of them had ever seen. His eyes were not the brilliant blue of a summer sky, but the chilling azure of a glacier, locked onto the monster he had just punched through a building.
Void slowly pushed himself up from the rubble of the central fountain, water and debris cascading from his massive frame. The arm All Might had struck hung at a grotesque, broken angle. There was a moment of profound silence, broken only by the drip of water and the ragged breaths of the students, and All might's previous question.
Then, a sickening, wet CRACK echoed through the plaza.
Void grabbed his own dislocated shoulder with his other hand and, with a brutal, practiced jerk, snapped it back into its socket. The sound made several students flinch. He rolled the shoulder, the muscles bulging and knitting back together with an audible, biological whirring sound of veins and muscle. His glowing green eyes never left All Might's the whole time.
'Healing? Is that his Quirk?' All Might's mind raced, a cold tactical analysis cutting through his rage.
'No, the reports never mentioned regeneration. An adaptation? A new facet? I can't go full power, not with the children so close. A widespread smash could bring the entire dome down on their heads.'
The standoff was broken not by the titans, but by the gnats. A handful of the remaining villain goons, emboldened by their numbers and intimidated by the Symbol of Peace's unnerving silence, saw an opportunity.
"He's distracted! Now's our chance!" one yelled, a man with extendable claws.
"Let's take down the Symbol of Peace!" another roared, charging.
They were a blur of motion, a coordinated rush of five villains, their Quirks flaring; claws, hardened skin, electrified fists.
All Might didn't even turn to look at them.
He vanished.
To the students of class 1 A, it was as if he teleported. One moment he was standing between them and Void. The next, there was a series of five concussive THWUMP sounds, so fast they blended into one continuous, brutal note.
The charging villains froze in their tracks, then collapsed simultaneously to the ground, unconscious before they hit the floor. All Might reappeared exactly where he had been standing, his posture unchanged, a small cloud of dust settling at his feet. He hadn't used a flashy Smash; it was pure, undiluted speed and precision, a level of controlled, brutal efficiency that was far more terrifying than any explosion.
His display of power served a dual purpose. In the same motion, his speed was used to gently but swiftly usher Bakugo and Kirishima back towards the entrance, where Sero and Shoji were still carrying Aizawa.
"Young Bakugo, Young Kirishima, with the others. Now," his voice was a low, unyielding command, devoid of its usual booming encouragement.
He then turned to the group, his gaze softening for a fraction of a second as it fell upon Aizawa's broken form. The sight was a fresh knife of guilt twisted in his gut. "Get him to safety. And… I am sorry. I should have been here." The apology was quiet, meant only for his unconscious friend.
"All Might, you can't just take them all on by yourself!" Bakugo yelled, his voice uncharacteristically strained, his own traumatic revelation warring with the tactical reality.
All Might didn't look back. He simply raised a hand, his fist clenched, and gave a single, sharp thumbs-up.
"Do not worry," he said, the words flat and heavy. "I will be fine."
His attention snapped back to the center of the plaza. Shigaraki Tomura was slowly clapping, a dry, rasping sound.
"Not bad. Not bad at all," the hand-covered villain mused. "Your speed is impressive, as expected of the Symbol of Peace. But let's see how you handle this."
Shigaraki pointed a trembling finger. "Void. Entertain him."
All Might's body tensed. He focused his power, the air around his fist distorting. "CAROLINA SMASH!" he roared, a spiraling, x crossed punch aimed directly at Shigaraki's center mass, intending to end the leader in one blow.
He never connected.
A green and black blur intercepted the attack faster than the eye could follow. Void stood before his young master, arms crossed, taking the full, devastating force of the Carolina Smash head-on. The impact was deafening, a shockwave that blew out the remaining windows in the plaza. But Void didn't fly back. He didn't even stagger. His feet dug two furrows in the concrete as he was pushed back a meter, but he absorbed the energy, the muscles in his arms and chest visibly vibrating, dispersing the force.
A low, sinister hum emanated from him. Shock Absorption.
"So violent, All Might," Shigaraki taunted from behind his living shield. "You call yourself a hero? That attack could have really hurt me."
"He is not incorrect," Void's monotone voice agreed, his glowing eyes narrowing. "A lethal force, directed with intent to kill. Is that the 'peace' you symbolize?"
All Might's fury reignited. "Do not speak to me of peace!" he bellowed, launching himself at Void.
"What do you know of it?! What is this madness for? Torturing children?! Killing a pro hero who dedicated her life to saving others?!"
What followed was a one-sided onslaught. All Might became a golden storm, his fists like meteors. He hammered Void with blow after blow; Texas Smashes, Oklahoma Smashes, devastating hooks and uppercuts. Each impact sent Void crashing through pillars, slamming into walls, cratering the ground.
But a dreadful, eerie calm settled over the fight. Void wasn't fighting back. He was taking it. Each time he was hit, his glowing green eyes remained fixed on All Might, analyzing, calculating. He was a living punching bag, studying the rhythm, the power output, the tells in the hero's fighting style. He was waiting, letting his enhanced Nomu biology perfectly acclimate to the new Quirks flooding his system, learning to optimize them against this specific, ultimate opponent.
Finally, All Might stood panting over a crater, Void lying at its center. "This ends now," All Might declared, his voice echoing. "I stand for justice! For a society where the innocent can live without fear! A symbol that represents hope, not the terror you espouse!"
From the crater, Void slowly rose. He wasn't even bruised.
"Hope?" Void's voice was a distorted mockery of amusement. "You speak of justice, yet you brutalize those who have been failed by it." He gestured to the unconscious goons All Might had dispatched just a few minutes earlier.
"You just crippled a man whose family was bankrupted by a hero's collateral damage. Another was driven to crime after a corrupt hero framed him. Their methods are villainous, so your violence is deemed 'justice'."
He then pointed a finger, not at anyone present, but making a vague, sweeping gesture towards the other zones in the massive simulation dome. "There is a man here, his face burned to a ruin, wronged by the Number Two Hero's brutal, unchecked rage. That same 'hero' once nearly killed a child in his early days, a boy trying to do good without a license, simply for the crime of being a vigilante (If you know, you know). Your society hunts those who do the right thing outside its narrow, sanctioned box. It is a system that uses power to decide who is right and who is wrong. A hypocritical, rotting facade."
His voice rose, echoing through the dome, ensuring every student heard his damning sermon. "And you, All Might… you are their glorious poster child. The shining lie upon which their corrupt peace is built."
The students listened, horrified and confused. The villain's words were insane, weren't they? But at the same time…they carried a chilling, logical weight.
"You claim to despise violence," All Might countered, his voice thundering with conviction, finding a flaw. "Yet you wield it more brutally than any here! You speak of the system's failures, but your solution is indiscriminate slaughter! You are not a revolutionary; you are a murderer, using a righteous cause to justify your own bloodlust! Months of killing heroes in the shadows, and you think all of a sudden you are the one to talk about right and wrong?!"
Void's head tilted. "How perceptive. So you are not all brute strength." He didn't deny the accusation, which made chill run down All Might's spine. He has dealt with all kinds of foes, and only a few were confident enough to be self aware…
…Those are the worse kind of villains.
"I, too will use violence." Void proclaimed. "A necessary, surgical violence. The kind your society is too afraid to wield to cut out its own rot."
Then, he began to change.
His body, already massive, shuddered and expanded. Muscles swelled, his frame stretching, tendons and bones groaning audibly. He grew from 250 cm to a monstrous 310 cm, now towering a full 60 centimeters over All Might. With a deliberate motion, he reached up and ripped away his now tattered black hoodie, letting it fall to the ground.
Beneath it, he wore a perverse mockery of a hero costume. The design was unmistakably based on All Might's own, but the colors were inverted: a dark green bodysuit, black accents, and bold, bloody crimson lines. A tattered green hood was draped over his head. It was the silhouette of the Symbol of Peace, twisted into something dark and menacing.
"You ask what I stand for, Symbol of Peace?" Void's voice boomed, no longer a hum but a deep, resonant earthquake of sound. "Meet the Symbol of Change."
All Might's blood ran cold, barely able to suppress it. Horror, deeper than any he'd felt tonight, gripped him. This wasn't just an attack; it was a desecration.
"You… you dare?" he whispered, his voice trembling with a rage so pure it was terrifying. "You have no idea what that symbol means! This charade ends NOW!"
With a roar that shook the very foundations of the USJ, All Might unleashed his full speed, a golden comet of pure wrath aimed at Void's heart. It was a punch meant to vaporize, to erase this blasphemy from the earth.
It never landed.
Void's hand shot up, faster than thought, and caught All Might's fist. The impact created a vacuum that sucked the air from the plaza. The shockwave that followed shattered every remaining pane of glass in the dome.
CRRRUNCH.
The sound of the impact echoed, but Void's hand didn't yield. He stood, immovable, All Might's fist held perfectly still in his grasp.
"It seems my strength is finally kicking in.." Void mused, his voice a low rumble.
He then leaned forward, his massive frame bending until his face, shrouded in the hood, was level with All Might's, his glowing green eyes boring into the hero's wide, disbelieving ones.
"That punch," Void whispered, the sound carrying clearly in the sudden silence. "You used approximately…I dare say 35-47% of your full power. Am I correct?"
All Might's eyes widened in sheer, unadulterated shock. How… how could he know?
"You will need to use 100 percent if you dream of standing a chance against me. Try again."
Panic, cold and sharp, lanced through the number 1 pro hero. He ripped his hand back and began to pummel Void in a frantic, desperate flurry. Left hook, right cross, liver shot, jawbreaker; blows that could level city blocks landed with the sound of thunder.
Void didn't block. He didn't dodge. He simply stood there, his hands remaining casually in the pockets of his costume trousers, letting the storm of blows wash over him. Each impact was absorbed, the energy dissipated harmlessly by his terrifying Shock Absorption quirk, his body barely rocking with the force. It was a display of absolute, contemptuous superiority.
He was letting All Might exhaust himself.
Finally, as if bored, Void moved. It was a casual, almost lazy motion. He brought his hand out of his pocket and delivered a backhanded swat.
It wasn't a punch. It was like a giant swatting a fly.
The force was unimaginable. All Might was launched across the plaza like a discarded toy, smashing through a support pillar and crashing into the far wall with a concussion that felt like it stopped his heart. He slumped to the ground, dust and rubble raining down on him.
All Might pushed himself up, but his body began screaming in protest. He tasted copper. A single trickle of blood dripped from the corner of his lip onto his sleeve. He stared at it, dumbfounded.
What? A bruise? Blood? From a backhand?
Across the plaza, Void cracked his neck, the sound like grinding stones. His green eyes glowed with predatory anticipation.
"Good," he said, his voice a promise of pain. "You can still stand."
He vanished.
Reappeared directly in front of the staggering All Might, his fist, now free from his pocket, cocked back, wreathed in the same red-and-black energy that had killed Thirteen.
"We are just barely getting started."
____________________
Landslide zone…
Shoto stood panting, his right side a sculpture of brittle, waning frost, while his left steaming from the uncontrolled burst of fire that had finally, finally erupted. Across from him, the scout breathed heavily, the black, acrid smoke of his "Soot" quirk curling from his lips like a dragon's breath. The left side of his face, a ruined landscape of burn scars, seemed to pulse with malevolent joy.
"Finally!" the scout rasped, his voice a distorted growl layered over his own. "A spark! Don't let it die now, boy! Embrace it! Embrace the shit your father poured into you!"
Shoto said nothing to that. His mind was a warzone, and the scout's words were artillery fire. He launched a jet of fire, a controlled, precise stream compared to his earlier outburst. The scout met it not with a dodge, but with an open mouth, inhaling the flames. The fire vanished into his maw, and the orange glow in his veins and single eye intensified. He exhaled a plume of black smoke that solidified into a jagged, burning shard of darkness and hurled it back.
Shoto threw up an ice wall. The dark-fire shard shattered through it, forcing him to dive sideways again. He was fighting a mirror that hit back harder.
From the sidelines, Rappa let out a loud, exasperated groan. He cracked his knuckles, the sound like gunshots, but made no move to join.
"This is boring," he muttered to the empty air. "All talk, no real brawl. Just two guys playing keep-away with fancy lights." He watched Shoto get forced back another step, his expression one of profound disappointment.
"Tch. I came here for a fight, not a therapy session." With a final, dismissive click of his tongue, the massive brawler turned and began lumbering down the unstable slope towards the zone's exit, leaving the two to their bitter dance.
Meanwhile, further down the cliff face, Momo hands, slick with sweat and blood from minor scrapes, found purchase on a jagged outcrop. The sounds of the battle above; the roar of fire, the shatter of ice, the madman's taunts; were a siren call of dread. She could no longer stay hidden. Her classmate was fighting for his life, and she was the only backup he had. Gritting her teeth against the ache in her muscles and the terrifying drain on her lipid reserves, she hauled herself over the final ledge.
And froze.
Standing directly in her path, having just reached the bottom himself, was Rappa. His hulking frame blocked the way forward. He saw her, and a wide, predatory grin split his face.
"Well, what do ya know," he chuckled, his voice a low rumble. "Guess today is my lucky day after all. A straggler." He saddled up his fists, the air around them seeming to vibrate with pent-up violence. "C'mon, kid! Show me what you got! Don't be like those two up there, all flash and no smash!"
Momo's heart hammered against her ribs. Fear was a cold stone in her gut, but it was instantly forged in the fires of her resolve. She couldn't run. She wouldn't. In a flash of light from her exposed back, a massive, round riot shield and a solid, cold-forged steel javelin formed in her hands.
Rappa's grin widened. "Oho! Now that's more like it!"
He didn't charge. He let her make the first move. Momo knew her strength was no match, so she used her head. She feinted with the javelin, and as Rappa swatted it aside with a contemptuous flick of his wrist, she used the opening to slam the edge of her shield into the side of his head with all her might.
CLANG!
The impact reverberated up her arms, numbing them. Rappa's head snapped to the side. For a heartbeat, there was silence. Then, slowly, he turned back to face her, his grin now a terrifying thing of pure, unadulterated glee.
"That's the spirit!" he bellowed, laughing. "A little sting! I like you, kid!"
Back on the ridge, the battle was turning. Shoto and the scout clashed in the center of the plateau, a maelstrom of fire and black ice. For a moment, their attacks seemed equal, a swirling vortex of opposing elements. But the scout's Quirk, fueled by Trigger and hatred, was superior. His black ice consumed the energy of Shoto's flames, growing larger, denser, colder. With a final, contemptuous shove, the scout overpowered him.
The mirrored glacier of darkness slammed into Shoto's waning attack and sent him flying. He hit the ground hard, tumbling end over end before skidding to a stop near the edge, gasping for air, his body a canvas of bruises and burns.
The scout strode forward, his footsteps crunching on the frost-bitten ground, his manic grin unwavering. "Get back up," he sang, his voice a twisted lullaby. "Or this might be the last time you do. It'd be a shame for Endeavor's legacy to end as a stain on the rocks."
Shoto pushed against the ground, his arms trembling violently.
'Dammit! What is wrong with me?! Why can't I beat him?!'
The scout's words echoed in his skull.
Embrace the shit your father poured into you.
A memory, unbidden and painful, surfaced just from that sentence. (Yay…memory lane, again)
Two years ago…
He was thirteen. The sterile, cold air of the Todoroki manor did little to soothe the fresh, throbbing bruise on his arm. He sat on a bench in the hallway, fumbling with a bandage, his face set in a grim mask. The door to the kitchen opened, and Fuyumi stepped out, her cheerful "I'm home!" dying on her lips as she saw him.
"Shoto? Are you okay?" she asked, her voice soft with concern. She moved to sit beside him. "Here, let me help. My quirk's good for cooling swellings."
"Don't," he snapped, pulling his arm away. The words were out before he could stop them, sharp and cold. "You're not her. Don't pretend."
The dual haired boy instantly regretted it. The hurt in her eyes was a physical blow. He looked away, his silence a silent, sullen apology.
Fuyumi, ever the peacemaker, simply sighed. "It's okay," she whispered, and gently took his arm. She worked quietly, her touch deft and sure, humming a soft, familiar tune. The coolness from her fingers seeped into the bruise, a small, genuine comfort.
"All done," she said brightly, trying to inject some normalcy. "Can't have my little brother walking around with a poorly wrapped bandage. It would ruin his good looks."
A ghost of a smile touched Shoto's lips. It was fleeting. "Thanks," he mumbled, the word awkward.
"What happened?"
"I let my guard down. In training. I... didn't use the left side." The frown returned, deeper this time.
Fuyumi's smile faded. They moved to the dinner table, the silence heavy. When Enji entered, the temperature in the room seemed to drop further. The Pro Hero didn't speak. He simply took his plate, gave Shoto a look of profound disapproval that made the boy flinch and stare rigidly at his own food, and left, presumably for the room that housed Touya's shrine.
Fuyumi tried to lighten the mood. "So, how was—"
"He's a hypocrite." Shoto muttered, his voice low and venomous, cutting her off. "Pretending to care about strength when his own ambition killed elder brother."
"Shoto, don't say that," Fuyumi pleaded, her voice trembling. "What happened to Touya was a terrible accident. Please, just... the fire isn't his Quirk, Shoto. It's yours. You can use it to heal, to protect. I... I just hope one day you can see it as your own, too."
"I will never use his fire," Shoto vowed, his voice ice cold. "Never."
Back in the present, the scout was standing over him. "What's the matter, legacy? All out of fight? Pathetic."
"Shut up."
The words were quiet, but they carried. Shoto's head lifted. His bicolored hair was matted with sweat and dust, shadowing his eyes. Then, a flicker. A wisp of steam. Then, an inferno.
Fire erupted from his left side, not as a wild explosion, but as a focused, white-hot plume of pure thermal energy. It didn't attack; it defended. The scout's black-ice encased fist, poised for a final strike, was instantly vaporized. The ice turned to water, then to steam, in the blink of an eye, leaving the villain's hand exposed and smoking.
The scout stared, his manic grin faltering into surprise.
Shoto rose, the fire wreathing his body like a mantle. "I," he stated, his voice trembling with a newfound, burning resolve, "am NOT Endeavor."
The scout's surprise melted away, replaced by a pure, unhinged ecstasy. His expression cycled from shock to rage and finally settled on a glee so intense it was terrifying. "FINALLY! I WILL KILL YOU WHERE YOU STAND, AGAINST ENDEAVOR!"
"HE. IS NOT. HERE!" Shoto roared back, unleashing a torrent of fire that forced the scout back.
The fight reignited, more violent than before. But the scout was still absorbing, still adapting. "You'll have to do better than that, boy!" he screamed, swallowing a fireball and exhaling a spear of condensed darkness that Shoto barely dodged.
Down below, Momo' fight was not faring well. For a few minutes, she had held her own with sheer ingenuity, creating barriers, nets, and caltrops. But Rappa's overwhelming power was too much. One punch severely dented her shield. Another destroyed the base of a taser-web she was trying to create. A third, glancing blow sent her spinning to the ground, her body screaming in protest.
Rappa didn't press the attack. He looked down at her, his grin still present but lacking its bloodlust. "Kid. Not bad. But that was a bit too quick." He sounded almost disappointed. He turned, pressing the comm.link in his ear. "Oi, warp-guy. Pick me up. This zone's a bust. The kids here are—"
He paused, his eyes widening slightly as a voice filtered through; Void's, calm and analytical…talking to All Might. A slow, eager grin spread across his face. "Well, what do you know... Hotshot's fighting the big hero himself."
He was about to speak again when he noticed Momo struggling back to her feet, her gaze fixed on the cliff top, determined to climb back to Shoto.
Rappa sighed, a sound of pure exasperation. "Kid, I'd advise you to stay put. Besides, that guy up there," he jabbed a thumb towards the ridge, "is crazy."
"I am going to help my classmate," Momo said, her voice firm despite her pain.
Rappa just shrugged. "Suit yourself." He was about to demand his warp again when a scream; raw, pained, and unmistakably young; echoed from the top of the ridge. It was Shoto's voice.
The sound gave even Rappa a moment's pause. Momo's face paled, and with a renewed burst of desperate energy, she began to climb.
"Ah, hell," Rappa muttered. Curiosity, or perhaps a shred of something resembling concern for a good fight going too far, got the better of him. "Fine. Let's see what that lunatic's done." To Momo's astonishment, he began climbing back up with her, his powerful limbs making the ascent look trivial.
What they found at the top was a nightmare.
The scout had played his final, dirtiest card. In a moment when Shoto's fire had waned, he'd pulled another Trigger vial and jammed it into his neck with a frantic, jerky motion. The effect was instantaneous and horrifying. His body swelled further, the orange glow in his veins becoming a blinding, violent radiance. His single eye was now a solid orb of incandescent orange, no pupil, no iris, just pure, drug-fueled madness. His shirt had been burnt away, and thick, choking black smoke poured from his pores.
He had gone completely AWOL.
He was on top of Shoto, who was pinned to the ground. The scout wasn't fighting anymore; he was torturing. He drove a knee into Shoto's ribs. A sickening CRACK echoed. Then another. He began stomping, a manic, gleeful rhythm, each impact accompanied by Shoto's choked screams of agony. Shoto tried to dislodge him, firing weak sputters of ice and fire against the scout's shins, but the villain just absorbed the energy and laughed, a high, piercing sound.
"Struggle! Struggle, you little bastard! Your father will be joining you soon! I'll make sure of it!"
"Hey!" Rappa's voice cut through the madness, uncharacteristically serious. "Kuroi! That's enough. You've made your point."
The scout; now identified as Kuroi; stopped his stomping and slowly turned his glowing orb of an eye towards Rappa. A snarl twisted his scarred face. "Back the fuck off, you Chisaki-worshipping lapdog! This ain't your business!"
Rappa's face darkened, offense replacing his casual demeanor. "Lapdog? I ain't takin' that shit from a Trigger-junkie who can't finish a fight clean." His eyes then fell on the empty, second Trigger vial on the ground. His voice dropped, losing its boisterous edge, becoming deadly calm.
"Kuroi. What the hell have you done?"
He took a step forward. "I said, ENOUGH."
Kuroi shrieked in outrage. "A friend of an Opp is an Opp! I'll kill you too!" His maddened gaze fell on Momo, who was rushing to Shoto's side. "Did you bring the girl here to die?! Fine! I'll have fun killing you ALL!"
He launched himself at Rappa, his movements a jerky, hyper-fast blur. Rappa met him, his fists a whirlwind. But Kuroi's enhanced "Soot" quirk was now overwhelming. He absorbed the kinetic energy of Rappa's punches, the black smoke around him growing denser, colder, more suffocating.
Momo reached Shoto, her heart breaking at the sight. His breath was ragged, his ribs clearly injured. But his eyes were still burning with defiance.
"He's over-exerting himself," Momo gasped, her analytical mind kicking into overdrive despite the terror. "The smoke... it's not just an emission, it's a byproduct. He's burning up from the inside. Whatever he used-it seems too much for his body to handle. He's a bomb waiting to blow."
Shoto coughed, wincing in pain. "It sounds like... you have a plan?"
Momo's eyes darted from the fighting villains to Shoto's condition, her mind racing through a thousand blueprints at once. She looked at Shoto, then at the raging, smoke-wreathed form of Kuroi. A dangerous, desperate plan formed.
"We don't beat his quirk," she whispered, her voice tight. "We break the user. We make him absorb more than he can handle. We make him overload."
"His body is the weak point. His quirk's output may be increased, but it's burning through his physical form. We need to give his system more than it can process. A massive, simultaneous, and contradictory energy input that his quirk can't reconcile fast enough. It will overload his system and leave him vulnerable."
Shoto's heterochromatic eyes widened, understanding flashing within them despite the agony flaring from his ribs. "Simultaneous… you mean…"
"Your quirk" Momo confirmed, her gaze deadly serious. "But not as separate attacks. A single, unified blast. If you can be able to merge them into one chaotic stream of energy, he won't be able to absorb and convert two opposing forces at once. It will short-circuit his quirk and leave him defenseless."
It was an insane plan. It required a level of control and power Shoto had never attempted, a blasphemous merging of the two sides of himself he'd kept segregated his entire life.
"I'll create the delivery system and the distraction," Momo said, her hands already glowing. From her back, a complex apparatus began to form; a large-bore, cannon-like device forged from a heat-resistant carbon-ceramic alloy. "I'll fire a concussive shell to disorient him. The moment he absorbs it, you hit him with everything you have, at the same time."
Across the plateau, the fight between Rappa and Kuroi, was reaching a fever pitch. Rappa's punches, each one capable of pulverizing steel, were being swallowed by the vortex of black smoke surrounding Kuroi. The scout was laughing, a continuous, unhinged shriek.
"USELESS! YOUR POWER IS MINE!" Kuroi roared, forming a massive, spinning scythe of black energy from Rappa's last punch.
"Tch! Annoying bastard!" Rappa grunted, skidding backward.
"NOW, YAOYOROZU!" Shoto yelled, pushing himself to his feet, his body screaming in protest.
Momo braced the cannon against her shoulder. With a deafening BOOM, she fired a dense, non-elemental concussive round directly at Kuroi's chest.
Distracted by Rappa, the scout turned too late. The shell struck him square in the sternum. Instinct and quirk addiction took over. His mouth gaped open, and he inhaled, sucking the kinetic energy of the blast into his body. The black smoke around him swelled violently.
"MORE! GIVE ME MORE!" he screamed, his single orange eye blazing.
This was the opening.
Shoto took a deep, shuddering breath. He closed his eyes. For a split second, he was back in the hallway with Fuyumi.
"The fire isn't his Quirk, Shoto. It's yours."
His eyes snapped open, filled with a final, resolute peace. He crossed his arms.
A sound unlike any ever heard in the USJ tore through the air; a screaming, tearing paradox of nature. From his right side, a glacial tsunami of absolute zero ice erupted. From his left, a concentrated spear of plasma-hot flame shot forth.
The two opposing forces traveled parallel before colliding just feet from Shoto's body, merging under the sheer, brutal force of his will into a single, spiraling beam of chaotic energy. It was a storm of white-hot fire and blue-white ice, a screaming torrent of thermal and cryonic power that shot across the plateau.
Kuroi's mad grin widened. "YES! A MEAL FIT FOR A KING!" He opened his arms wide and inhaled.
The beam of chaotic energy struck him and was sucked in.
For a second, he stood triumphant. Then, his body convulsed. The orange glow in his veins flickered erratically. The conflicting energies; the absolute cold and the star-core heat; raged inside him, unable to be converted. His "Soot" quirk short-circuited.
ZZZRAAAKT-BOOM!
A concussive blast of wasted energy erupted from his body, threw Rappa off his feet and forced Shoto and Momo to shield their faces. When they looked back, Kuroi was on his knees, vomiting a black, oily substance. The orange glow in his eye was dim, his body smoking, his enhanced musculature deflating. The double Trigger dosage had left him a drained, broken husk.
Shoto didn't hesitate. He slammed his palm on the ground. "It's over."
A glacier of ice erupted, encasing the weakened scout up to his neck in a prison of solid ice. His head lolled forward, but a weak, wet chuckle escaped his lips.
"Heh… hehehe…" he muttered, his voice a ragged whisper. "Go on then… freeze me…
Doesn't matter… I just pray… I pray Endeavour gets here… so that Void can kill them both… The Symbol of Peace… and the number two hero… Too bad the flaming bastard doesn't work at UA… the other heroes… will probably get here first…"
Shoto and Momo's blood ran cold. The casual mention of their death, the specific targeting of his father…
Shoto's head whipped towards Rappa, who was brushing dust off his shoulders. "You," Shoto demanded, his voice sharp with suspicion. "Why did you help us? What plan do you have exactly?"
Rappa looked at him, pure brute honesty in his expression. "Plan? I told you, kid. I came here lookin' for a good fight. That's it. I just tagged along 'cause I was bored. That guy," he jabbed a thumb at the frozen Kuroi, "was a lunatic. It ain't me you should be worried about."
The implication hit them like a physical blow. While the common goons were manageable, the real leaders; the hand-covered man, the mist villain, and the one if they remember was called Void; were on a completely different level. Even the one who seemed average-sized, Shigaraki, radiated a terrifying threat.
Before Shoto could demand more answers, Rappa was already turning, walking towards the edge of the plateau. "You're on your own now. My fun's over." A faint purple mist began to swirl at the Landslide Zone's exit.
"Best not to interfere with Hotshot's plans. I mean it for your own safety. Just stay here, let things settle down before you come out. It'll be better for your health."
And with that, he stepped into Kurogiri's warp gate and vanished.
The sudden silence was deafening. Shoto and Momo were left alone on the shattered plateau, the wind howling around them. Shoto turned his burning gaze back to the imprisoned scout.
"What is going on?" Momo demanded, her voice trembling. "What are you really here for?"
Kuroi lifted his head, a pathetic, broken thing, but his dim eye held a spark of manic triumph.
"Didn't you hear?" he rasped, a bloody smile stretching his scarred lips. "We're here to kill the Symbol of Peace."
The words hung in the frigid air, a simple, terrifying statement of fact that promised the nightmare in the central plaza was far from over. Now they victory just felt hollow.
_________________
The golden hero was on his knees; one massive hand pressed tightly against his side. A thin, ominous wisp of steam, not the proud plumes of his power, but the desperate leak of a failing engine, escaped from between his fingers. The searing, familiar agony of his old wound screamed with every ragged breath, a pain he had hoped never to feel again.
A shadow fell over him.
Void stood there, a monolith of silent, green-eyed menace. His chest rose and fell in a steady, unhurried rhythm, a stark contrast to All Might's labored gasps. The only sign of the conflict was the dark, glistening smear of crimson across the knuckles of his right fist…All Might's blood.
He didn't gloat. He didn't sneer. He simply looked down, his glowing green eyes flaring with an intensity that was both alien and utterly focused.
"Get back up."
The command was flat, devoid of malice or triumph. It was the tone of a scientist observing a failed experiment, demanding another trial. It was the sound of a predator that knew the hunt was already over, merely toying with its cornered prey.
The silence that followed was heavier than any blow. The students watching from the entrance felt their hopes, which had soared with All Might's arrival, shatter and turn to ice in their chests. The Symbol of Peace was bleeding. And the monster standing over him was just getting started.
Chapter 21-25 + Off screen Fight scene between Void and Aizawa already available on Patreon.com /Weeb Fanthom.