Tears streamed down faces all over the world as All Might stood tall over the Villain's body, hammered by a thundering downpour and surrounded by nothing but pure destruction.
To capture the scene better, the chopper had also come down, now risking flying in such treacherous weather so close to the ground.
It was all over.
It was finally over.
All Might had once again defied all odds and snatched a victory over the Villains.
Yet…
The camera zoomed out and suddenly jerked.
It wasn't because lightning had struck the chopper, but because of the cameraman's poor control over his emotions and shock, which made the camera swivel.
None in the world could blame him, though.
All the cheering began to die down slowly, the scene on the screens leaving viewers gasping for breath.
The joy that had been oozing out from the depths of their hearts came to a spurting halt.
In the whole, wide world, perhaps only the students of Class 1-A existed who didn't begin praying for All Might's safety, instead gaining complex, inexplicable expressions.
On the battlefield with enormous craters and uncountable, mile-long cracks, a figure came into view.
This figure was standing so silently and motionlessly that even the camera would have missed it, if it weren't for the figure's long, white coat and top hat that stood out against the rainy, dark background.
It was Dr. Blessed.
He was still at this place, carrying Gran Torino in his arms.
And, because of his masked face, it felt like he was looking directly at All Might.
No matter who saw this scene, the same question bubbled in their minds — Was there no end to it?
As if that wasn't enough, in the very next moment, All Might's tall figure… faltered, making people's hearts jump to their mouths.
…
Exhaustion drowned All Might, making his knees wobble.
It was as if someone had stored decades' worth of tiredness and suddenly poured it over him.
All Might didn't even need to see himself from a different perspective to see the changes he was going through at this moment.
He could feel it…
The youth that had made him feel invincible only moments ago, the prime he had used to defeat All For One, the madness his heart had carried to go beyond, was vanishing.
Even when All Might had turned young again, he had been acutely aware of his situation.
One For All's embers that had been burning inside him before coming here had already gone out when he had used United States of Smash.
Not only had All For One survived that attack, but he had also retaliated.
But then something happened… with the appearance of Dr. Blessed.
The time within his body had reversed, taking him to the days when he used to roam across continents, becoming the Symbol of Peace.
However, the same hadn't happened to One For All.
All Might had felt that all he had, along with his youth, were dregs… not even embers, but dregs — particles of ash about to lose all heat, going cold.
Yet, miraculously, those dregs had been enough to fuel his youthful rage… for less than thirty seconds.
Now, not only were those dregs gone, but his youth was abandoning him as well.
In only a few moments, All Might experienced decades' worth of aging.
Wrinkles surfaced on his face.
Muscles weakened. Bones rattled.
His lower back began feeling heavy.
Weak.
All Might felt weak.
This weakness had not been so apparent before becoming young. But because of its rapid return, his mind went into shock, comparing the two states and lamenting over the lost strength.
Wait…
Something… felt different…
All Might, in an almost trance-like state, brought down his raised right hand and… touched his waist on the left side.
With that, he also began sensing even more oddities.
All For One had wounded him gravely years ago. Because of that, he had become a lanky, old man. His muscle form had been nothing but a flexing of muscles, which he couldn't maintain for a long time, as marked by steam leaving his body.
Even before coming here, All Might had used up the last second of his half-hour limit to maintain the muscle form.
Then… why wasn't he returning to his old, weak form?
And… — All Might pressed the fingers of his right hand into his side as hard as he could, feeling no pain. — … where was the injury that All For One had given him?
Slowly, the Symbol of Peace lifted his head, amazed and shocked.
"What... did you do?" All Might asked, looking at Dr. Blessed.
As if that were the cue, figures began appearing near the International Criminal.
It was as if a black blanket had covered them, making them invisible in the dark surroundings.
Like Dr. Blessed, they all were wearing white greatcoats, top hats, and black, clownish masks.
But they hadn't tried to hide their gender at all.
Two were obviously women, one wielding a baseball bat and the other carrying some high-tech guns in both hands.
Then there was the huge man, standing right behind them.
But among these new figures, one stood out the most, and it wasn't wearing any clothes, per se.
It had a giant mushroom head and a lanky, over 12 ft biometallic body.
It seemed like a cyborg, carrying… at least half a dozen Nomus, all stuck to the weird mushrooms popping out from its back.
All Might looked at the cyborg for some time before his eyes fell on one female Apostle, who had guns in her hands.
All the apostles had dark, black hair, but he could sense a familiarity from this one.
So, that's the path you have chosen… All Might thought. Melissa.
Suddenly, the cyborg stepped forward, making even the cameraman shout All Might's name in worry.
However, All Might himself didn't move, sensing no threat.
The cyborg cleared its throat, and a giant mushroom came blooming out of its mouth, looking like…
"Miracles are not the act of men, but of divine intervention," the voice boomed strangely, as if Dr. Blessed himself was speaking through a loudspeaker, "Today, your All Might would have lost against the Villain, if it weren't for that same divine help.
"I do not claim to be All Might's benefactor, as I am nothing but an attendant to a God, who can create Miracles. Today, I prayed to that God for a miracle — for you.
"From now on, All Might's mere existence will be a testament to His benevolence. Let it be known that mere labeling His attendant as an International Criminal will not prevent Him from showing mercy to those who need help."
Together, all the Apostles and even the cyborg put their right hands on their chests and bowed.
"Praise be to Mr. Fool!"
Then, as the world looked at the scene, stunned, a great mass of fog covered them.
When the fog cleared, the Apostles of Mr. Fool had already vanished!
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