[FIFTY MINUTES LATER – KAMINO WARD SECTOR 4]
The steady beat of rotors cut through the heavy silence that had settled over the ruins. A news chopper from YLG circled the perimeter, its spotlight cutting through the rising smoke like a searching eye.
Inside the cabin, the veteran reporter, Hashimoto, gripped his headset, his face pale.
"This is... this is unprecedented," Hashimoto stammered into his microphone. "We are forty minutes into the incident at Kamino Ward, and the situation has moved beyond what can only be described as a ..." He paused, searching for words that could possibly describe what he was witnessing. "Disaster."
The camera panned across the devastation. Buildings reduced to rubble. Streets cratered and split. Fires burning despite the rain. Emergency lights strobing through the smoke like desperate signals.
"According to reports, a single, unidentified villain has engaged nearly the entire vanguard of the Hero Public Safety Commission's task force including Endeavor and multiple top ten pro heroes. The reports coming through the emergency bands are... they are dire."
He paused, his breath catching as the pilot banked the chopper, giving them a clear view of the central trench. "As of now, we can confirm that multiple heroes are down. The extent of casualties is unknown, but .... My god..."
Hashimoto whispered, forgetting his script.
_
[KAMINO WARD – GROUND LEVEL –]
The scene was apocalyptic. Bodies ... hero bodies scattered across the battlefield like broken toys.
Gang Orca lay motionless against a collapsed wall, his sonic emitters shattered, blood pooling beneath him. Mt. Lady had reverted to normal size, unconscious in a crater of her own making with a completely shredded costume, practically half naked.
Kamui Woods was tangled in his own broken branches, his wooden body splintered and broken in numerous areas like a damaged tree.
Ryukyu, the dragon hero had collapsed long ago.
Crust—the Shield Hero—lay face-down in rubble, his signature shields scattered around him like broken pottery. Dozens of others lay around like extra decorations. Some moving weakly. Most perfectly still.
And in the center of it all, slumped against a destroyed police van, was Best Jeanist.
His pristine costume was torn and burned. Blood soaked through the fabric, spreading from a wound in his torso. 'I can't...'
His breathing was labored, each breath a visible struggle. The man tried to raise his hand, fingers trembling. His quirk—Fiber Master—barely responded with a few threads extended from his costume. 'I can't move.' He could barely breathe. The injuries he had taken were quite severe with a very good chance of internal bleeding.
Moving should be the last thing on his mind right now. Yet he forced himself to open his eyes on the scene ahead. As Endeavor, the man who had burned with enough ambition to rival the sun, was being held off the ground by his throat, dangling like a puppet in All For One's grip.
His costume was torn in multiple places. Burns covered his body .... his own burns, after overheating from going all out and achieving nothing.
Blood ran from his nose, his mouth, a cut above his eye. But worse than the physical damage was his face.
"Well, Endeavor," All For One's voice carried easily across the ruined street. "How do you feel? I find this turn of events very amusing."
Endeavor could barely grunt in response, fingers weakly clawing at the hand around his throat.
"Oh, come now." All For One tilted his head, that terrible mask reflecting firelight. "You mustn't stop so easily. After all, you spoke quite boldly into my speaker earlier. You told me there was 'no escape.' Is your little bravado gone so easily?"
He squeezed slightly. Endeavor choked.
"Where is that confidence now? That certainty? That righteous fury?" All For One's voice took on a mocking quality. "You told me to surrender. To get out of your way. Do you remember that?"
Endeavor's flames sputtered out entirely.
"I thought so."
Best Jeanist watched, horror and rage warring in his fading consciousness.
'I have to... do something. Anything. Can't let him... can't...'
He raised his hand with barely gathered conviction, threads extending toward All For One ....
An air cannon slammed into his chest. The impact was catastrophic. Best Jeanist's body lifted off the ground, flew backward, crashed through debris. Blood erupted from his mouth as he hit the pavement and went still. A hole. There was a hole in his torso. Clean through, edges cauterized by the pressure.
"I admire your conviction, Best Jeanist," All For One said without giving him a glance still holding Endeavor. "As expected of the Number Four Hero. Unfortunately..."
He glanced at the motionless body.
"I don't need yours."
_
[NEWS HELICOPTER]
"Oh god," Hashimoto whispered into the microphone, barely remembering he was broadcasting. "Best Jeanist is down. I repeat, Best Jeanist appears to be critically injured. We can see ..."
His cameraman zoomed in on the hole in Best Jeanist's torso.
".... extensive trauma. Emergency services cannot reach the area due to ongoing hostilities. The villain is ...."
[KAMINO WARD – GROUND LEVEL]
"Your technique is one that requires years of tedious practice and delicate intuition... it's far too much work for a quirk I can't simply hand off to a subordinate." All For One turned his attention back to Endeavor, still dangling in his grip.
"Your quirk, however..." He brought Endeavor closer, examining him like a jeweler examining a diamond. ".... suits Tomura's disposition perfectly."
Suddenly, a red blur streaked through the air. Edgeshot, flattened to a microscopic thread, pierced through the smoke with the speed of sound, aiming directly for the gap in All For One's mask.
"IMPACT RECOIL."
The dark red thread hit an invisible wall and snapped back into human form, Edgeshot's body convulsing as the kinetic energy he'd built up was turned against him. Before he could retreat, All For One's free hand shot out, catching the ninja by the neck.
"Yours as well will do just fine as an addition to my collection." All For One uttered.
A low, humming sound filled the air. The sound of the "Transfer." Edgeshot and Endeavor both arched their backs, their eyes rolling back as the very essence of their souls was ripped from their nervous systems.
All For One let go. The Number Two and Number Five heroes dropped to the mud like trash.
[NATIONWIDE REACTION]
Be It In Tokyo, Osaka, and Fukuoka, millions of people stared at their television screens in petrified silence.
In the shelters, children began to cry. Those outside in other cities for the "Nightlife" had all hurried back to their homes without a second thought.
"My god .."
"This ... It can't be really right?" A family of four in the shelters watched with unabated horror.
In living rooms across the country, millions watched in horror.
A father in Osaka held his daughter as she cried, staring at the screen showing heroes fallen.
A mother in Kyoto covered her son's eyes, but couldn't look away herself.
In hero agencies, off-duty heroes watched their colleagues get destroyed, powerless to help.
In the HPSC headquarters, Madame President stood frozen, face ashen.
The broadcast was everywhere. Every channel. Every screen.
Japan—and the world—watched as their heroes fell.
"This is terrible." In U.A, Nezu sat in the principals office, face grimmer than ever before.
In the dorms, students still awake at this late hour were no exceptions. From class 1A to general studies ... everyone shared a unified reaction.
The reporter's voice on the broadcast had turned into a frantic sob.
"Every hero... every hero is down! Endeavor, Jeanist, Edgeshot... they've all been defeated! The authorities are not responding!" Hashimoto yelled over the rotors.
"What is going on here? Where did this villain come from?"
"With Half of Kamino being demolished and the top heroes defeated, it seems there's no one else left to stand in this villain's path. None except possibly our only hope to deal with this situation, and yet even now after this disaster, the question remains .." The reporter said through gritted teeth. "Where is he?! In our darkest hour... Where is All Might?!"
__
Across the ocean ... Inside the cabin of the high-altitude HPSC modelled transport, the hum of the jet engines felt like a funeral dirge. The aircraft was being pushed to its mechanical limits, yet for the three men inside, it felt like they were standing still.
In the soundproofed rear cabin, Toshinori Yagi sat on the edge of a leather seat, his skeletal frame trembling. His sunken, dark eyes were glued to a tablet screen held in hands that wouldn't stop shaking.
The tablet showed the same grainy, zoomed-in shot from the NHK helicopter. He saw it all.
When the flames on Enji Todoroki's body vanished, Toshinori let out a sound that wasn't human. It was a strangled, pathetic sob of pure agony.
"All For One..." he growled. "You monster. You absolute monster."
In the main seating area, the atmosphere was even grimmer. Shota Aizawa watched the news broadcast on the wall-mounted monitor.
His face was a mask of stone, but his capture scarf was subconsciously tightening and loosening around his shoulders.
"They're all gone," Aizawa muttered, his voice devoid of emotion, the kind of flat tone he used when a situation had moved beyond 'dangerous' and into 'catastrophic.' "The entire upper echelon of the hero hierarchy... wiped out in under an hour."
He turned his gaze toward the back of the plane, toward the door where Toshinori was hiding his shame. 'We're heading into a vacuum. There won't even be a frontline left to join by the time we land.'
_
Back In Japan, All For One adjusted his cufflink, stepping over Endeavor's silent form. He ignored the groans of the dying and scanned the ruins until he saw a young police officer cowering behind a piece of concrete, his gun shaking so violently it rattled.
With a flick of his wrist, All For One's hand turned into numerous wooden branches that removed the obstacle from the way then binded the man, dragging him across the pavement, stopping at his feet.
"Please... please don't kill me..." the officer sobbed, his eyes squeezed shut.
"That depends entirely on your utility," All For One said calmly. "I will let you live if you answer a very simple question. I noticed a certain absence tonight. A 'Symbolic' absence. Where is All Might?"